Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Severus eyed the door. As usual, Lucius was fashionably late, even by the sluggish clock on the mantelpiece. Reluctant to step inside the hovel that was Spinner's End, most likely.

It was the day after the Muggle civil ceremony. The idea was that the three of them would meet to discuss the wizarding wedding. It made sense to get the damn thing organised before the Ministry could breathe down their necks any more than it already was.

Finally there was a sharp knock at the door, as if a certain someone had rapped his poncy snake-headed cane against it.

Tempting as it was to jerk the door open after a pause so that Lucius fell inside, Severus tugged it open immediately.

Lucius swept inside, utterly ignoring Severus. He walked straight over to where Hermione sat in her now-favoured chair next to the fireplace.

Jaw tightening, Severus resolutely turned away to close the door. This time, he would not watch Lucius's jealousy-inducing courtly behaviour around his Hermione. He glanced down at the plain platinum ring encircling his finger. His wife, even.

He blinked as he registered a hoot behind him. He had to bite back a laugh at the sight that greeted him when he turned.

A small owl was clinging to Lucius's forearm, talons piercing his robe. As Severus watched, Lucius shook his arm. The owl merely hooted in response ... and proceeded to do its business, the mess of course deposited on the shredded fabric.

"Would you care to remove this abominable creature from me?" Lucius snarled, clearly itching to draw his wand.

Hermione lowered her hand from her mouth, her body shaking as she struggled not to laugh, much as Severus was.

"Pig, come here!" The owl instantly let go and fluttered over to Hermione.

Lucius only growled all the more at the ease with which Hermione brought the owl under control. He drew his wand from his cane, balefully eyeing the owl, but only Scourgified his sleeve and repaired the torn fabric. Sitting down, he was the epitome of hurt dignity.

Severus rolled his eyes and took his own seat, closer to Hermione.

She had removed a letter from the owl's leg, folded up so small that even Severus's keen eyes had missed it at first.

"I owled Ginny yesterday morning, to ask her to be my bridesmaid in the wizarding ceremony. I think she'd kill me if I didn't," Hermione explained as she unfolded the letter. Her eyes moved as she scanned the missive; then she winced. "Sounds like she's going to kill me anyway, leaving it until now to get in touch with her. But she definitely will be my bridesmaid..." she trailed off, frowning slightly as she read further.

Hermione covered her mouth again, but not to mask laughter, her eyes wide and ... horrified?

Utterly ignoring Lucius's presence, Severus leaned forward to put his hand on her shoulder. She didn't react, even when he squeezed gently.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

"I think I might know," Lucius said quietly, from his chair across the room. Almost hesitantly, if a Malfoy could be anything other than completely certain. "I recall a rumour that there had been a death in the Weasley family due to the plague. The mother."

"It's true. Molly's dead." Hermione finally looked up. "We might not have always seen eye to eye, but I'll miss her. And the Weasleys... how awful! First Fred, now Molly." She bit her lip, but was unable to restrain herself from howling: "Will it never end?"

The letter crumpled under her fingers. "I sent a letter to Luna Lovegood too, asking the same thing of her as I did of Ginny." She inhaled a shuddering breath. "According to Ginny, there will be no reply, unless Luna's father can bring himself to answer."

"Miss Lovegood is dead, too?" Severus closed his eyes. "I did not know. Nor of Molly's death. Other than the deaths at Hogwarts, I have not been kept informed of exactly who died. Only of the numbers involved."

Hermione twisted around to face him head on. "Deaths at Hogwarts?"

"It was a pandemic, Hermione," he gently reminded her. "The population of witches has been decimated worldwide, even at Hogwarts. The so-called safest place in wizarding Britain was no safeguard against the plague."

"Who died at Hogwarts?" she demanded.

"Students and staff, and literally at Hogwarts in some cases, as St. Mungo's was overflowing."

"Who?"

Severus sighed. This was not a conversation that he really wished to have ... but she did deserve to know. "Professors McGonagall..."

"No!" Hermione's protest sounded as if she'd been winded.

"Please do not interrupt. This is not easy for me, either. They were my colleagues, even if not always on the best of terms with me."

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Professors Vector, Trelawney and Sinistra; and Madam Pomfrey."

A strangled sob escaped her. As Severus recalled, she had been one of Vector's favourite students, but her reaction could equally well be down to the mention of the no-nonsense matron. Hermione had spent quite some time in the hospital wing, after all, largely down to her misadventures with Potter.

"I – I should have asked. I should have realised what it meant when you told me how many had died back when I first woke up." Hermione's voice wobbled. She ignored the tears trickling down her cheeks, and made no effort to wipe them away. It was as if she did not even realise that she was crying, or did not care.

Severus shifted. Tears had made him uncomfortable long before he earned the mentally-scarring moniker of 'Snivellus'. But he kept one hand on her shoulder as he reached inside his pocket for his handkerchief, thankfully clean.

Just as he held the scrap of fabric in front of her, Lucius also reached across with his own offering. A tremulous laugh escaped Hermione, her voice equally shaky when she thanked them. She took both, blowing her nose with Lucius's finely embroidered and monogrammed specimen, and using Severus's to wipe away her tearstains.

"Keep it," Lucius muttered. He flinched almost imperceptibly when Hermione offered to hand his handkerchief back to him.

Severus also refused his. "I have a spare." One that was not damp, either, but there was no need to state that; it would make him sound like a squeamish schoolboy.

"I suppose I might need to use them again. Who else died? How many students?"

Lucius cleared his throat before Severus could do more than wince at Hermione's question. "At the risk of sounding like an unfeeling bastard, I came here to discuss our impending marriage."

Severus felt Hermione tense under his hand. "Unfeeling, yes, but ..." She sighed and relaxed. "You're right. We need to get this organised."

* * *

"The Ministry has requested that we have a public wedding. Apparently a marriage involving war heroes will be good for the morale of wizarding Britain."

"How convenient for you, Lucius. That's exactly what you wanted, isn't it?" Severus sneered. "Good publicity for the Malfoy name."

Lucius merely sipped his tea, eyeing the liquid as if he wished it was something stronger. The way this discussion was going, Severus had to admit that his friend might well be in luck, despite the relatively early hour.

"Much as I'd prefer a private ceremony, this might get the Ministry and the press off our backs. And us in their good books," Hermione mused.

"Convenient for your protest against the law. And one must suffer for one's causes," Lucius sniffed. "And speaking of suffering, you'll be pleased to hear that the curse breaking team has almost finished work on purifying Malfoy Manor. Considering how long it has taken Gringott's finest, I suppose it was high time that the place had a spring clean."

Severus rolled his eyes at Lucius's long suffering tone. "I fail to see why you are grumbling about 'suffering' curse breakers in your home. It can only do your precious social standing in the current climate good to be seen to rid your home of the lingering Darkness from your unfortunate affiliation during the war."

Lucius opened his mouth, clearly affronted. Before he could say a word, Hermione dug her fingers into Severus's forearm, painfully catching his attention. Ignoring her during a previous argument with Lucius had been a mistake if it meant that she would make sure she had his attention this way. 'Ouch! Has she never heard of the expression of catching more flies with honey than with vinegar?'

"Don't start bickering. We need to get our nuptials sorted before the Ministry sorts them for us. Do you really want to risk whatever horrors they come up with, either of you?"

Severus exchanged a wary look with Lucius, visions of far worse than Helen's recipe reading passing through his mind. Ring bearing unicorns were romantic, but hardly practical; their skittish nature around non-virgins could reveal rather too much about the bride, if they didn't bolt away from the assembled throng of guests. That and the mess. But unicorn manure was a valuable potions ingredient. Maybe it would be worthwhile ... He glanced sidelong at Hermione. Then again, perhaps it wouldn't be ... tactful. Best not.

"No? Then let's get on." To Severus's relief, Hermione relaxed her talon-like grip on his arm.

* * *

'Do not hex the photographer. He may be paparazzo masquerading as the official photographer, but hexing him would be more trouble than it's worth.' Hermione did her best to ignore the blinding flashes from the camera wielded by the over-enthusiastic photographer. Besides, to hex him or the infernal camera would require extracting her wand, and she couldn't manage that without exposing rather more leg than was considered decent.

Her father gave the photographer a warning glare, as did Ginny to judge by the way the unfortunate wizard stepped back. To Hermione's relief, the barrage of flashes finally stopped.

Before Hermione could do more than step towards the still-closed double doors of the Ministry's largest hall, there was a muffled slap from behind her. Hermione and her dad twisted around, almost expecting to see the photographer clutching his cheek, with a vengeful Ginny loomed over him.

Instead the photographer looked just as perplexed as her father; as puzzled as Hermione felt. But the sound of the slap was easily explained by Ginny's hand on her own forehead. She looked stricken.

"I can't believe I almost forgot! Your dress, Hermione."

Hermione frowned, completely mystified by what Ginny could mean. During the planning of the wedding, the only thing specified about her dress was that it had to be wizarding made. Lucius had been most insistent. Perhaps she should have asked why at the time.

"Did you think that the way Fleur's dress looked was down to her being a part-Veela?" Ginny rolled her eyes. "The fabric is enchanted before the ceremony. This is cutting it a little fine, especially as this idiot..." she nodded at the photographer, ignoring his indignant squawk, "was snapping away before you were ready.

"Now, if you blokes don't mind looking away while I retrieve my wand, I can get the bride sorted out."

Her dad let go of Hermione in order to firmly turn the photographer away. Hermione stepped in front of Ginny so that if the wizard was as dodgy as he appeared to be and tried peeking, he wouldn't see anything.

Ginny lowered the skirt of her silver dress, wand in hand. "Now, close your eyes and... Oh. Bugger. The spell is only as bright as the strength of your feelings for the groom. Grooms in this case. It's going to make it a little obvious that this isn't a love match."

Ah. A potential problem, then. Although in the week since her marriage to Severus, it had become clear to Hermione that she felt more than just friendship for him. But love at this stage in their fledgling relationship?

"Just cast the spell, Ginny. If it's the usual thing, it will look even stranger if the bride doesn't glow at all." She closed her eyes, wishing that Ginny didn't look so dubious.

"Alright. Keep your eyes closed and think – no, focus on your feelings, not thoughts – about your soon-to-be husbands. Don't think about anything else, or this 'glow' will be even dimmer."

'The way Severus and Lucius's faces lit up when they talked, even when they argued ... Severus holding her in his arms ... The strange flutter in her chest she'd had to suppress the last time Lucius had kissed her hand ... The feel of Severus's mouth, the caress of his tongue, his body against hers ... And the way Severus respected himself and her enough not to rush into a physical relationship before they were ready ...'

Hermione felt the skin beneath the fabric of her dress tingle as if a Cooling Charm had been cast on it.

"Hermione ..." Ginny's voice sounded strange.

Once she had opened her eyes, Hermione could see why. While not as bright a glow as Fleur's wedding dress had been, her own dress still cast a respectable shine. It was also strong enough to have the same sort of beautifying effects on those the light fell on: it made her father look years younger, the photographer almost respectable, and Ginny breathtakingly pretty.

"Since when did you have feelings for Snape and Malfoy? I heard that you were friends with Snape, but surely you must've forgotten about that what with the side effect of the cure?" Ginny shook herself. "Never mind. We're already late."

The doors swung open at their approach, revealing a room the size of a cathedral, complete with vaulted ceilings far above. Hermione had no time to wonder at the size, as she instantly felt the weight of the eyes on her as soon as she had stepped inside.

The hall was packed with people, at least two thirds wizards. Few of them looked familiar to Hermione, although there was admittedly not much time to tell, and her eyes were drawn down the marble-floored aisle to where Severus and Lucius stood in front of the officiator: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic.

Walking down the aisle on her father's arm seemed to take forever ... and somehow no time at all, the loss of her sense of time magnified by the eerie silence, broken only by the occasional stifled gasp and the faint music emitted by silver balloons floating overhead.

Severus was staring unblinkingly at her, transfixed. Although somewhat similar to his reaction in the Muggle ceremony, it utterly eclipsed it.

Lucius seemed shaken by the sight of her. His eyes dropped to his bare left hand. Hermione noted the way his hand seemed to convulsively tighten into a fist, then relax as he looked up again, his face once again a cool mask. Interesting ....

It was bizarre, watching their appearance change as she neared. Severus became progressively handsome, while Lucius looked almost too pretty to be allowed. Perhaps it was a good thing that the beautifying effects were not as strong as with Fleur's dress, otherwise Hermione's bridegrooms would have been unrecognisable.

Her father squeezed Hermione's arm before he handed her over to the bridegrooms, each taking one hand and standing either side of her, although Lucius had to nudge Severus into action.

To Hermione's embarrassment, Lucius also had to nudge her a few minutes later when it was time for their vows. 'Damn,' she thought, blushing, 'I'm just as bad as Severus, and for the same reason!' Dragging her eyes away from Severus, she muttered an apology to Kingsley. She blushed harder when he winked at her.

"Do you, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, take Hermione Jean Granger to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." Lucius seemed to hesitate slightly, but his voice was confident and even when he spoke.

"Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take Lucius Abraxas Malfoy to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do." At least this time there was no stumbling over archaic middle names. Kingsley was the only one who had to worry about that, and so far every word had come smoothly from his mouth.

"Do you, Severus Tobias Snape, take Hermione Jean Granger to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," Severus said. Hermione noticed that he was being careful not to look at her, which explained why he sounded more like his usual gruff self.

"Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take Severus Tobias Snape to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Are you sure that you two don't want to exchange vows?" Kingsley asked, his voice pitched for their ears only. His eyes flicked mischievously between Severus and Lucius. The matching poisonous glares they gave him only made him chuckle. Hermione had to bite down on her lip to avoid laughing. "Alright, if you're sure ... Now you may exchange rings."

Hermione was already wearing Severus's ring, as he was wearing hers, so Severus could keep hold of her right hand while Lucius slid his ring onto her finger.

Once Severus had released her hand, Hermione took the remaining ring from Kingsley's hands. After Lucius's earlier reaction, she was unsurprised to see a melancholy look flicker across his face as she placed the ring on his finger.

"Just signing your marriage certificate remains." Kingsley held out a long, thin black quill. The point on it looked sharp enough to make it count as an offensive weapon. There was no ink well or ink pot on the desk behind him ... a horrible suspicion began to dawn in Hermione's mind. As she watched Lucius sign, she had to stifle a gasp when his signature briefly appeared, cut into the back of his hand before it healed seconds later.

She stood, frozen in a horrified daze. This was effectively two marriages, so she'd have to sign twice. In her own blood. Her eyes seemed to be the only part of her still capable of moving, fixed on Severus as he took the quill from Lucius. Watching as his name was incised on the back of his hand. Almost feeling the sting as it did so ....

'This is nothing compared to Harry's detention. Come on, you've had worse. Move!'

Very reluctantly, she forced herself to step over to the desk and take the quill from Severus's hand. Her hand shook; how was she meant to sign her name?

A warm hand laid over her shaky one, gently stilling it.

"I will kiss it better later. In private." Severus's lips tickled her ear as they moved, his nose brushing her hair where it was bundled up on top of her head as tidily as Ginny could manage.

That brought back her courage, although it also dusted her cheeks with colour.

She signed her name, her teeth gritted at the sharp sting accompanying every stroke of the pen. Damn her parents for giving her such a long name! At least the resulting cut healed fast, although slower after the second time she signed. It also looked and felt rather sore. 'Severus had better make good on his promise.'

Kingsley took the quill back, examined the document, then signed his own name. He motioned for them to join hands again.

"I declare you bonded for life." He drew his wand and raised it as high as he could reach over their heads. A shower of silver sparks rained down. They felt like melting snowflakes wherever they landed on Hermione's skin.

"You may kiss the bride."

Without hesitating, despite all the eyes on them, Severus reached over to lay his free hand on her jaw. He gently turned her head to his and bent down to claim her lips.

After a while, Lucius cleared his throat. Severus released her. He hid his reluctance fairly well, but Hermione could tell that he wasn't happy. Something to do with the set of his jaw, or was it the look in his eyes?

Distracted by her ponderings on Severus, the only warning she had of Lucius's kiss was when he tilted her head up. His lips were drier than Severus's, and he did not linger quite as long, although to give him credit, he also didn't just peck her on the lips and jerk back as if he was repulsed by her.

Their audience seemed to get over their shock at seeing their darling war heroine in the arms of two former Death Eaters; war hero though Severus was, he was hardly popular. An uneven smattering of applause broke out, the clamour bolstered by the addition of doves and silver bells from the popped music-emitting balloons above.

* * *

"Mind if I cut in, Uncle? I'd like to dance with my step-mother."

Draco managed to keep his smirk internal as Severus gave him a dark look.

"I'm not your uncle," Severus snapped. To Draco's surprise, he turned to Granger. "Do you mind?"

She shrugged, regarding Draco with some bafflement. Hardly surprising, really, as she probably knew nothing of his estrangement from his father, and his new stand on blood purity.

"Return her to me in one piece," Severus ordered as he handed Granger over, and moved to stand over by the bar. Provided Severus stayed there, Draco thought it would be easy enough to do as he 'asked'.

"Don't worry, I don't bite," Draco said, in an attempt to get her to loosen up. Granger held herself far too stiffly in his arms, despite his stance at a respectful distance.

"I guess not. You left that to your lackeys."

Draco winced at her icy tone. For a moment, he thought she meant his use of Crabbe and Goyle's muscle during their school days, then, with an awful sinking feeling in his stomach, realised that she meant that disastrous time in the room full of hidden things at Hogwarts, the night the Dark Lord fell. Crabbe had tried to kill her ... No wonder she remembered that. From what Draco had heard, none of the plague patients had memories of the year since the victory of the Light over the Dark.

"Yes, um ... Sorry about that. I had no control over them at that point, what with the family reputation in the gutter. I told them not to kill, really!"

Granger's gaze felt as if it could see into his soul. Much like Severus's could, Draco realised. He shuddered to think what she'd pick up from his father.

"I believe you," she stated. "If you had a taste for killing, Severus wouldn't have had to kill Dumbledore."

Draco winced all the more at the reminder of that.

"Sorry, Malfoy," Granger muttered. "We're really starting this step-relationship thing off on the wrong foot."

"Shall we start over again, then?" He stopped dancing and stepped back. "Please, call me Draco."

He bent from the waist in his best courtly bow, took her hand and kissed the air above it.

"Er ..." Granger seemed lost for words. "Right. Draco. Erm, you may call me Hermione."

"Hermione," he repeated, testing out the unfamiliar syllables on his tongue. He made a mental note not to call her Granger again, even in the privacy of his mind. He straightened up. "Allow me to escort you back to your husband."

Draco was puzzled to see that Severus was no longer at the bar. The serving wizard behind it pointed him in the direction of the men's lavatories.

"We might as well wait outside it. I had my fill of champagne earlier." A single glass, as far as Draco had been able to tell. It seemed that Gra...Hermione wanted to stay sober on her wedding day.

"I was talking to your parents over dinner," Draco said, attempting to find a topic of conversation that would prove his improved character to her.

"I noticed. Did they offer to give you a dental check-up?"

"No." Draco blinked, nonplussed. "They complimented me on the condition of my teeth, though. Is that usual for Muggles?"

"For them, it is. They're dentists: Muggle tooth doctors."

Draco blinked again. Perhaps he should have taken Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, although his parents would have disowned him if he had.

"Healers for the mouth. I keep forgetting that there's no such thing as doctors in the wizarding world."

They were now loitering outside the toilets. Severus could appear at any moment, but as Hermione seemed to be in an understanding mood, Draco though he would try his luck.

"I promised my father that I'd attend this wedding, but making an effort to reconcile with him is not the only reason I came today."

"Oh?" Good. He'd piqued her interest. She was regarding him with much the same expression on her face as when they'd been given Arithmancy homework at Hogwarts.

"Like every wizard out there, I need to get married."

Hermione blinked. At his expectant look, she seemed to realise that he wanted suggestions from her. "What about Pansy Parkinson?"

"She's dead," he said flatly. He still felt a sharp pang of loss. Pansy had been his friend long before they ever started at Hogwarts.

"Daphne Greengrass?"

"I was betrothed to her little sister, Astoria, who's also dead, by the way – Daphne's just got married to Theo Nott. He happens to be bisexual, or maybe homosexual, I'm not sure which. Anyway, the point is that he fancies me. I'm decidedly not gay, Granger!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, either to remind him to use her first name, or to imply that she thought he protested too much. To Draco's relief, she let it slide.

"Millicent Bulstrode?"

"Are you kidding? She's getting married to Goyle. Good for him, he's about the only wizard who won't be crushed by her.

"The point is, Hermione, that I don't want to marry a pure-blood. Or a Slytherin. I want a fresh start."

"Let me get this straight." Hermione massaged the bridge of her nose, almost as if Draco's problem was giving her a headache. "You want my help to find you a bride."

"Yes. I mean, yes please. Cutting myself off from my family unfortunately didn't do much to help my reputation. If you endorsed me, I'm sure witches would see me in a new light."

She didn't look convinced.

"Please. Think of it as performing your step-motherly duties."

"I'll think about it." She sighed, and slumped back against the door to the men's loos.

Draco was about to try pleading his case again when Hermione twisted around, pressing one ear to the door. She pressed a finger to her lips. Curious, Draco pressed his own ear to the door, a head above where Hermione could reach. Muffled voices reached his ears. Extracting his wand, he tapped the door with the tip, a muttered spell making noise pass through the door as if it was not there.

"...don't like you. I don't trust you. But compared to Malfoy, you're my best friend." The voice made Draco feel as if his hackles were rising. Weasley, going by the whiny tone.

"Take care of her, okay?" Ah. So Weasley was presumably talking about Hermione. To Severus?

"I will." Yes, that was Severus's deep, silky baritone.

'Better the devil you know, eh, Weasel?' Not that Draco could blame him. He wouldn't trust his father either. But he didn't think that Lucius would do anything to hurt Hermione. It would do his precious reputation no good, even if he survived Severus's wrath.

Draco glanced down at Hermione, his attention drawn by a stifled growl, much like a lioness on the hunt. The look in her eyes made him take an involuntary step back, as his eyes jumped to the slim hand laid on the wood of the door. Slim, but powerful. He touched his cheek, remembering the force behind her slap back in their third year. No, she didn't need anyone to protect her. Woe betide anyone who presumed to try, and Lucius if he did anything to upset her.

AN: Many thanks to septentrion and JunoMagic for betaing. And to Kribu for alpha reading.