Chapter Seven: In Which We Quit Gretna Green

Across the Anvil

Chapter Seven: In Which We Quit Gretna Green

It was growing late on Friday night, and Joe Macgregor, the receptionist of the Outlander Inn, would be happy when the two parties broke up and the guests went to bed...but he realised that it would likely be the wee hours before that happened.

He was quite surprised when the front door of the Inn was flung open, and a young woman rushed in. She was greatly dishevelled, her chin-length blond hair in disarray, and her face unnaturally pink from the wind and chill of the September night. In one hand she held a small case, which she dropped with a loud clatter as the door slammed behind her.

Joe hurried out from behind the desk, scurrying across the lobby and into the entrance hall, where he stopped at the foot of the staircase. 'I'm sorry, miss,' he said, 'but we're fit to bursting tonight.'

The young woman turned her eyes on him, obviously agitated. 'I'm not here for a room!' she cried. 'I'm here to see Neville Longbottom. Where is he?'

'You're here for the wedding?' Joe inquired, racking his brain regarding the propriety of conducting a young lady into the midst of a stag party.

The girl's agitation increased. 'I'm not here for the wedding!' she screeched at the top of her lungs. She gestured to the stairway. 'Tell me what room he's in or I'll knock on every single door in the inn...I swear I will!'

Joe wrung his hands as he stared at the girl, watching as the pupils of her blue eyes seemed to dilate. He couldn't have her disturbing every guest in the hotel! But he couldn't turn her loose in the middle of a guest's stag party, either. How could he salvage this situation?

From each end of the hotel, down the corridors branching out from the entrance hall, doors opened, and guests of the stag and hen parties crowded the doorways, obviously drawn by the ruckus created by the wild-eyed blond girl. Oh, dear Merlin, what was he supposed to do? It was his job to keep peace in the hotel, and this was bidding fair to become a disaster. How was he to best serve the interests of the hotel if a young woman who was not the bride burst in demanding the groom?

With her attention focussed entirely on Joe, the girl was unaware of the witches and wizards approaching the entrance hall from either direction. 'Well?' she demanded of him shrilly. 'What's it going to be, you great oaf?'

One of the ginger-haired wizards was the first to reach the hallway, and he spoke hesitantly to the young woman. 'Hannah?' he said. 'Hannah Abbott, isn't it?'

Joe breathed a deep sigh of relief as the girl turned to the ginger-haired man. 'Ron!' she cried, rushing to him and grabbing the front of his shirt in her fists. 'Where is he? Please, tell me!'

The group of witches had now entered the entrance hall, whilst further ginger-haired wizards clustered behind the man now peeling Miss Abbott's fingers from his clothes. A kind-eyed older wizard could be seen peering over the heads of the two identical twins, and the unhappy girl applied next to him.

'Please, Professor Lupin! Where is Neville?'

Before the professor could answer, the odd girl, Miss Lovegood, placed a hand on Miss Abbott's shoulder. 'What's wrong, Hannah?' she asked gently.

As Miss Abbott turned to answer Miss Lovegood's question, Joe was aware of movement from the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw Snape, the Dark wizard who had tricked him into giving up the bride's key. Joe bristled; he heartily disliked the ugly fellow, and he was a bit afraid of him, as well...but the greasy git was a paying guest.

Snape stayed where he was above the bend of the stairs, out of sight of the group in the entrance hall, and shook his head once, indicating to Joe that he was not to reveal Snape's hiding place. So, the so-called war hero was an eavesdropper as well as a conniver? Joe turned his face disdainfully away, but did not give away the presence of the man on the stairs. There was no reason to antagonise a dangerous wizard, was there?

Hannah Abbott clutched at Luna Lovegood. 'Luna!' she gasped. 'Is it true? Is Neville marrying Hermione?'

The witches scattered as the bride pushed her way to the front, and Joe was aware of the increased tension in the bearing of the man hovering on the stairs half-way down from the first floor. The bride opened her mouth to speak, but another voice spoke first.

'Abby?'

The groom pushed his way through all the other wizards, his speech slurred just a bit. He stood staring at Miss Abbott, rubbing his eyes for a moment with the heels of his hands.

'I'm dreaming, aren't I?' the groom said, sounding rather sad.

'Neville!' Miss Abbott screeched, and she flung herself at him, now clutching his shirt front. That girl was hell on freshly ironed clothes, Joe reckoned.

The groom's arms closed about the intruder and the two of them hugged and clutched at one another. Snape began to move again, stealthily gliding down the stairs to the landing, where he paused again, watching the young people. Joe kept a suspicious eye on Snape, not trusting him any farther than he could see him.

'What are you doing here?' the groom asked the pink-cheeked girl in his arms.

'I came as soon as I could,' she answered, talking and crying at the same time. 'I only just found out you were getting married.' She pulled back and looked up at his face. 'You can't!' she cried.

'I didn't think you were interested,' the groom said miserably. 'You said you were going away to be trained in hotel management and told me all about your career plans ...'

Miss Abbott pushed the groom's shoulder. 'You were supposed to ask me anyway!' she cried, looking miserable as well. 'You weren't supposed to marry the next girl you saw!'

The groom hugged her to him again at this pronouncement, murmuring into the windblown blond hair words that were indistinct, but obvious in their import.

'Neville?'

Putting Miss Abbott from him firmly, the groom turned to the bride, inebriation seeming to fall away from him. Joe had to admire the boy; he stood up straight and faced the bride with Miss Abbott's hand grasped in his.

'I'm sorry, Hermione,' he said, and it appeared to Joe that the groom grew a set of iron bollocks as he stood up to his bossy bride. 'I ought never to have asked you to marry me...I love Abby, you see.'

Miss Abbott emitted a watery laugh, and the groom kissed her hand.

A black-haired wizard pushed his way through the ginger-haired contingent, and Joe stood straighter. There wasn't a man, woman, or child in all of Scotland who wouldn't know Harry Potter when they saw him.

'Look, Neville,' the messy-haired wizard began, but the bride cut across him.

'I wish you had mentioned it before, Neville,' she said.

Joe watched for the hysterics; he had seen many rows between brides and grooms before their weddings; he had even seen weddings called off at the last minute. But never had he seen this...some other girl showing up and making off with the groom right under the bride's nose! Surely there would be trouble from the bride; she was a managing female, if Joe had ever seen one.

But something odd was happening with the bride; she seemed, somehow, to be lightening and brightening before their very eyes. Why wasn't she flying into a rage? Didn't she care that her groom was throwing her over for a rather podgy blond?

'Hannah,' she said, and the tension in the room increased.

One of the identical wizards whispered to his twin, 'A Galleon says Hermione hexes "Cheat" across their faces,' and the other accepted the bet; Joe noticed, but all other eyes were on the bridal couple and the interloper.

'Yes?' Miss Abbott answered, and Joe was not surprised to hear fear in the blond girl's voice.

The groom moved as it to interpose himself between the two witches, but his bride stayed him with a calming gesture. 'How did you find out Neville and I were getting married?' the bride asked her rival.

The girl called Hannah...and Abby...swallowed audibly and said, 'Professor Snape owled me.'

As one, all eyes in the entrance hall moved to the tall, still figure on the first landing. Snape was attired all in black, a travelling cloak on over his clothes and a black travelling bag slung over his shoulder. He responded to the attention by lifting one insolent brow and strolling down the remaining stairs. He seemed to be looking over the heads of all assembled...until the bride spoke again, and then his eyes were riveted on her face.

'Oh he did?' the bride murmured, sounding as if she had received the answer she expected. She then looked over to meet the unsettling eyes of the Dark wizard, and it seemed to Joe that something powerful but unspoken occurred, for the air before his face was disturbed by the force of the energy crackling in the air betwixt them.

Abruptly, the bride turned to the groom and removed the ring upon her finger, offering it to him with a rueful smile. 'I'm not upset,' she said, and she was so sincere that Joe believed her. 'I was trying to think of a way to do the same thing, only Hannah did it for me.' She included both her former fiancé and his Abby in her smile, then stood on tiptoes to press a kiss to Mr Longbottom's cheek. 'I'll go ahead and wish you happy now,' she said, and he grinned at her.

'Thank you, Hermione,' he said.

Miss Granger then took Miss Abbott's hand and shook it. 'I'm in the bridal suite on the first floor,' she said, 'but I'm going to get my things and go. Then you can stay in my room...Joe can show you up when I leave, can't you, Joe?'

Joe jumped, surprised to have been addressed, but he nodded, trying to look helpful.

Miss Abbott was distressed. 'I don't want you to leave, Hermione,' she said. 'You're welcome to stay.'

But Miss Granger had already walked away, and although her words seemed to be for Miss Abbott, she spoke them to Snape.

'Thank you, Hannah, but I actually have someplace I'd rather be.'

Snape inclined his head solemnly, his face expressionless, but it seemed to Joe that a manic light burned in his eyes. 'May I be of assistance?'

Miss Granger nodded and Snape took her hand; the two began to climb the stairs.

Harry Potter started forward, a frown on his face. 'Hermione!' he said, sounding annoyed. When Miss Granger neither turned nor answered, he added, 'See here, Snape!'

Then a pretty witch with dark red hair crossed the hall; Joe recognized Mrs Potter. She placed a hand on her husband's arm and he turned his gaze to her face. 'Let them go,' Mrs Potter said firmly. Then she said more softly, 'I'll tell you later,' but only her husband and Joe heard that. Joe hoped she would tell within his hearing, because he was curious to know what the devil was happening!

The ginger bloke called Ron spoke aloud to his companions, and it was obvious that his mind had stalled out several minutes before. 'If her name's Hannah, why is the great prat calling her "Abby"?'

Miss Abbott emitted a tearful giggle and linked her arm with Mr Longbottom's. 'It's his nickname for me,' she said, smiling up at her love.

Then the older fellow rubbed his hands together. 'Well, it looks as if we still have plenty to celebrate! What do you say we combine these two parties and get on with the celebrating?'

And the entire group of them moved into the ladies' party room, with much chattering and laughing and pelting of the new couple with questions about their romance. Joe saw them safely disposed, then he went to supervise the cleaning of the men's party room; he was still involved there when two quiet figures slipped out of the hotel and into the chill September night.

Hermione clutched Severus' arm, laughter bubbling up to her lips in such a giddy burst that she thought she might crow for joy. He glanced down at her, the ghost of an answering smile upon his lips. The street was dark, save for the lights in the Outlander Inn, which they were leaving behind them.

They turned onto the next street, and Hermione released his arm and danced forward a few steps, then turned to look at him, her face solemn. 'You were leaving!' she accused.

He smirked. 'I was,' he agreed. 'The lady said "no",' he explained. 'What else could I do but withdraw?'

'I made up my mind to go with you just a few minutes before Hannah came bursting in the door, screaming for Neville,' she confided.

His brows drew together and he directed a keen look to her face. 'You decided before Miss Abbott arrived?'

'Yes,' she answered. 'I decided that marrying Neville when I love you was a stupid thing to do.'

Abruptly, he pulled her against him, lowering his face to kiss her. Hermione accepted his kiss eagerly, relaxing into it, giving herself over to him and to the emotions he stirred in her. He tasted of whisky and smelt of cigar smoke, evidence of his presence at the stag party, but she didn't care. She wanted him, wanted to be with him, and that was the only thing that mattered.

He lifted his lips from hers, looking down into her face, the tenderness in his expression making her feel weak in the knees. He caressed her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 'You're the first person to ever speak those words to me,' he said.

Overcome, Hermione leaned back until their eyes met. 'I love you,' she said clearly, and then she kissed him in the middle of the street in Gretna Green, pouring all of herself into the expression of her love. He opened his mouth to her, and she kissed him fiercely, her tongue caressing his, her fingers twining his hair, pulling it free of the confining band.

A noise behind her startled her, and she released him, turning. A cheerfully lit building met her eyes, a fairy-lit sign proclaiming, 'Across the Anvil,' twinkling there.

'That wasn't there before,' she said, unnerved. 'Where did that come from?'

Severus chuckled and took her hand. 'Let's investigate,' he said, pulling her along with him. 'I think I would like a souvenir of my stay in Gretna Green.'

'Souvenir shops aren't open at this time of night!' she protested, but he opened the door and pushed her through first, following closely behind her.

A burly man in purple wizard's robes came forward, a smile on his face. His head was completely bald, and he was massively built.

'Welcome to Across the Anvil,' he said with a strong Scottish burr. 'I am Hephaestus. How can we help you?'

Hermione smiled and returned the greeting, but her eyes were focussed on the two enormous anvils before the immense forge and its roaring fires.

Severus touched her shoulder. 'Look around a bit,' he encouraged her. 'I'm going to see about a souvenir.'

She moved away, and Severus turned to the smithy. 'I take it we triggered the revelation enchantment?'

The robed wizard nodded. 'We have to cloak the shop from the Muggles, so we keep it from some others, as well...those who are underage, those who are coerced ...'

Severus nodded his understanding. 'Then you can accommodate us?'

Hephaestus smiled his agreement. 'It would be my prodigious pleasure,' the smithy said.

'Give me a moment,' Severus said, and he walked over to Hermione, who was looking at the handcrafted swords displayed on one wall.

She turned as he approached. 'You could have a sword souvenir,' she said playfully. 'That one with the rubies in the hilt reminds me of Gryffindor's.'

He rolled his eyes at her, then asked, 'Do you know what this place is?'

She shook her head in the negative, and when he cupped her cheek, her eyes closed in pleasure, like a cat being stroked.

'I guess they've yet to write Gretna Green: A History,' he teased.

Her gurgle of laughter brought forth the smile which only she could wring from him. 'Do you know about the wizarding smithy at Gretna Green?' he asked her, finding his voice suddenly thick with emotion.

'It's a myth,' she answered promptly. 'The legends say the smithy only appears to those truly prepared to make a commitment to one another. It cannot be seen by underage wizards or by people who are trying to force someone into marriage.'

'Almost full marks,' Severus said, stepping closer to her, 'except for one small error.' He took her hand and raised it to his lips. 'I believe you can work it out, if you think about it.'

Her brown eyes softened when he kissed her, then narrowed when he challenged her. He watched her with pleasure, his hope and his desire rising within him, twining and parting, then twining again. When her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, he chuckled. 'Got there, did you?'

'But why?' she whispered. 'We're not getting married ...'

'You stood in the street and professed your love for me, Parker,' he told her, trying to ignore the thundering of his heart in his chest. 'You proclaimed your love and sealed it with a kiss...I believe the smithy took that for some sort of promise.'

'But you...you didn't do or say anything!'

'It would appear that the magic disagrees,' he said. With an inclination of his head, he indicated the patiently waiting Hephaestus. 'The blacksmith awaits our pleasure, Parker...shall we take our wedding rings back to Ireland as souvenirs of our trip to Gretna Green?'

Hermione stepped away from him. 'That's crazy talk, Severus,' she said quietly. 'I'm only just beginning to trust you again. You can't ask me to commit myself to you like this after six years of silence.'

Severus felt the hope within him plummet, but the desire kept him centred. She's here with you, old man, he reminded himself. Steady on. 'I understand your hesitation, Parker, but please hear me out.' He took her hand and led her over to a glass case, wherein resided a number of different handmade rings. There were three different boxes, each bearing a label. The labels read: 'A Year and a Day,' 'As Long As We Both Shall Love,' and 'Forever and a Day.'

'There are three wizarding ceremonies,' he began, and she nodded.

'I know about those,' she said. 'Most modern-day wizards are married under "As Long As We Both Shall Love". That's what Neville and I chose.'

Hope began to stir again; she was willing to discuss it, which was half the battle. 'You're coming home with me, aren't you?' he asked.

'Yes,' she answered.

'You want to see if we can make a successful relationship together, don't you?' he continued.

'Yes,' she answered, 'but...'

He cut across her, gently but insistently. 'Marry me, Parker. Marry me, for a year and a day. Something between us triggered the magic of this place, where wizards and witches marry one another across the anvil...take a chance on me.'

He could read the warring emotions in her eyes, and he lowered himself to one knee, uncaring that Hephaestus could see him. 'I love you,' he said. 'I vow to you that I will do everything in my power to make you happy. I'll be an arse and act like a fool sometimes, but I will make it my life's endeavour to deserve you, Parker.' He took her hand and turned it, pressing a kiss into her palm. 'Marry me, my love...try me out, for a year and a day, and if you don't wish to stay after that, I'll let you go.'

She looked down into his face. 'And if I want to stay?'

His hand tightened on hers. 'Then I'll bring you back here, and you can marry me again for a year and a day...or any other way you wish.'

She studied him then, her eyes boring into his until he began to wonder if she had become a closet Legilimens. He felt the sweat which broke out upon his brow, and he had a fleeting wish that he had thought to pray. When he thought she would surely turn away, she spoke.

'All right,' she said. 'I'll marry you for a year and a day.'

Ferocious joy burned through him at her words, and he bowed his head over her hand, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to her wrist. She startled him when she knelt as well, taking his face in her hands.

'I like hand-kissing as much as the next girl,' she said, her voice husky, tears shining in her eyes, 'but you can do better than that.'

When they broke apart, Hephaestus approached them, and they stood, their fingers twined, to meet him.

'You can choose rings from amongst the collection there,' he said, indicating the glass case, 'but I always recommend that you fashion your wedding ring from a piece of metal you already own.'

Severus promptly bent his arm and removed the silver cuff-link at his wrist. He placed the cuff-link on the counter and charmed the shirt cuff closed. He watched Hermione, who chewed a lip for a moment, then reached into her hair and pulled out a silver hair pin. The smooth ringlets on that side of her head began to frizz, and she gave him an apologetic smile. 'Sorry for the horrible hair,' she said.

With his fingertips he felt for and found the hairpin on the other side. 'May I?' he asked. She nodded and he pulled it free, allowing all of her hair to return to its natural state. 'I like it this way,' he said, his voice low and intimate, as if they were alone. 'It's the way your hair is.'

She melted into his kiss, and they were only brought back to themselves when Hephaestus cleared his throat.

'If you could choose a style for your ring, miss, I can craft it for you,' he said indulgently.

Hermione looked through the patterns available and chose a simple silver band. 'I'm not a fussy sort of girl,' she explained.

Severus chuckled, expressing his thankfulness for that fact, and Hephaestus nodded. 'An excellent choice, my dear,' the blacksmith said. 'We are crafting the ring for the "Year and a Day" contract, are we not?'

Hermione nodded, and Hephaestus crossed to the anvils and the forge. When the blacksmith shrugged out of his purple robes, it was to reveal a leather jerkin, from which his massive shoulders and arms bulged. His golden skin, soon sweat-slick from the heat of the forge, glistened by the light of the flames as he melted the hair pins, then refashioned them.

'How can someone so large do work so delicate?' Hermione whispered, and Severus shook his head wordlessly. He was too moved to make small talk. He looked down into her face, absorbing every detail, idly playing with a lock of her progressively more bushy hair. She returned his regard, studying him in turn, lost in him as he was in her.

Hephaestus returned to them again, placing the miraculously cool ring in the palm of Hermione's hand. 'Make sure it fits,' he advised, and she slipped it on, demonstrating the perfect fit.

Severus looked at her wearing his wedding ring and wondered briefly if it were possible to expire from too much happiness. 'Make mine to match hers,' he said.

The blacksmith took up Severus' cuff-link. 'We are crafting the ring for the "Year and a Day" contract, are we not?'

Severus replied without looking away from Hermione. 'No, craft my ring for the "Forever and a Day" contract, if you please.'

Abruptly, Hermione pushed away from him. 'No! Severus, you can't do that! You can't bind yourself to me forever when I'm only promising a year and a day!'

One corner of his mouth quirked, and he took hold of her wrist, pulling her back to him again. 'Of course I can,' he responded lazily.

'Sir,' Hephaestus said diffidently, 'it is most irregular.'

Severus began again to finger her hair. 'It is not, however, impossible, is it?'

He remained deaf to her objections, and when the blacksmith began to labour at the forge to make Severus' ring, Severus wrapped his arms around his prize and murmured into her hair. 'I have been bound to you for longer than you know, Parker...the ring will only make it official.'

She clung to him but still argued. 'I didn't know you were going to do something so foolish,' she pointed out. 'I can stop this now; it's wrong for us to be so unequally committed, Severus.'

He took her face between his palms and looked into her eyes. 'You spent a year with me before, Parker, with that inequality on the other side. This is payback.'

She shook her head, his hands moving with her. 'I don't need to be paid back...I'm not like that, Severus...don't you see?'

He kissed her lips and touched his nose to hers. 'I'm not doing it for you, love...I'm doing it for me.'

Hephaestus returned to them with Severus' ring, indeed a perfect match to Hermione's in appearance, and Severus pushed the ring onto his finger, where it fit perfectly. He experienced a moment of light-headedness. Whose life was this? He wasn't supposed to get everything he wanted...he was Severus Snape!

Hermione reached to touch the silver band on his finger, then looked at him, suddenly incandescent.

'Can we be married now, please?' he said to her.

She took his hand in hers. 'Where's this anvil I've been hearing about?' she said.

They stood on opposite sides of the golden ceremonial anvil, their joined hands resting upon its surface, and made their pledges to one another. When the vows were complete, Severus paid Hephaestus for the rings and the ceremony, agreeing somewhat tartly that Hermione could repay him her portion upon her next payday, and they signed the register, before leaving Across the Anvil.

'Will we be able to find you again?' Hermione asked uncertainly before following Severus out the door.

'Never fear, missus,' Hephaestus told her with an understanding smile. 'If you're in need of Across the Anvil, we'll find you.'

Severus and Hermione stood upon the dark street and watched as Across the Anvil blinked out of sight. Severus took her hand and began to lead her again along the street. 'Would you like to announce our marriage to your friends before we go home?' he asked carefully. Merlin knew he had no wish to see anyone but his bride, but he would do anything to please her...even share her with the dunderheaded duo.

'No, thank you,' she responded tranquilly. 'I don't want to see anyone but you.'

He pulled her close, his arms wrapped tightly about her, and bent to whisper in her ear. 'Then shall we begin this honeymoon, Mrs Snape?'

They Apparated to the hill, and he stood behind her, his arms enfolding her.

'Do you see it?' he asked, echoing the question he had asked when first he had brought her to this place.

'Our cottage,' she said, her voice full of satisfaction.

Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried his wife down the hill and across the threshold of their home, feeling as he imagined the first man must have done at the dawn of the world.

A/N: This story was written as a birthday present for Sshg316. Her prompt was, 'Write a story where Severus and Hermione had a relationship in the past which ended badly, and how they came back together.' That, alone, might have been a simple enough task had I not enjoyed a telephone conversation with my twenty-two year old daughter, who was telling me about the wedding her college roommate was planning...I had never heard anything so silly! Mix in the movie Elizabethtown, in which an obnoxiously self-absorbed couple take over an entire floor of a hotel for their pre-wedding festivities ... and you have the genesis of a Subversa story. As usual, the plot got away from me, a bit.

This chapter was beta read by Keladry Lupin and Brit-picked by LettyBird. The theme song for this story is Memory of You by Course of Nature. Thanks for reading along, y'all.