Mist and Vapors

"Please tell me we don't have to go back in there," Hannah said plaintively, face still pressed against Severus' neck. "Can't we run away or something?"

Severus smirked. "And deprive my aunt of the pleasure of prying more information out of you? She is so pleased to finally be getting at something. I'm afraid she gave up on me a long time ago."

Hannah looked up at him with a lifted eyebrow. "So what did you actually tell them? About me?"

He shrugged. "Just that you are a friend."

Hannah grinned to herself. Anwyn had obviously been fooled by that line, hadn't she?

"Do they know yet? About your new job?"

He shook his head. "I wanted to tell you first. There'll be time enough to tell them later."

Their eyes met again, and Hannah felt like a cork on top of a wave, washed up and over with a bone-tingling, deep kind of happy. Six more days.

"We should go," Severus said dryly, "before Anwyn appoints herself as search party."

"I suppose." Reluctantly, Hannah extricated herself from his arms. "Are you going to tell them we're engaged?" She smiled at the word, running her thumb over where she could feel the smooth metal of the ring, still strange and new on her finger.

"We'll see," he said. There was a smug smirk on his face that made her look at him with one eyebrow raised. Yet when they got within visual range of the house, he dropped her hand. Hannah tried her hardest to swat away the little mosquito of annoyance that started buzzing around inside her head. He didn't still mean to keep this a secret, did he? When they were supposed to be married within the week?

"About time, you two," Anwyn said with mock severity as they approached the house. "We wouldn't want the food to get cold, now would we?"

They sat down around the table, which already held bowls of oven-roasted potatoes and parsnips, glazed carrots, buttered asparagus, and homemade mint sauce. The door to the kitchen opened, and Saeran carried out the roast leg of lamb on a platter, the scent of rosemary and garlic wafting in a cloud around her.

"That smells wonderful," Hannah said appreciatively.

"I only hope it tastes as good as it smells," Saeran said with a flustered smile as she sat down the platter and began to carve thin, even slices off the roast.

"I'm sure it will."

"Do you like to cook, Hannah?" Anwyn asked.

"I do."

"She's a wonderful cook," Severus said as he passed his plate to his mother, watching a pleased pink rise in Hannah's cheeks.

"Lucky you," Anwyn quipped.

Severus turned to hand her the potatoes. "Next Saturday," he said as off-handedly as he could manage.

"Next Saturday what?" Anwyn looked at him as if he were one card short of a full deck.

"You asked if we had set a date. Next Saturday," he said, reaching for the carrots. "The wedding will be next Saturday."

There was a short pause - Severus thought with satisfaction that just seeing the open-mouthed, speechless look on Anwyn's face at that moment was more than worth the earlier aggravation - before she unfroze and he found himself pulled up out of the chair and caught in a bear hug as Anwyn planted kisses on both of his cheeks.

"Congratulations, you two! I couldn't be happier! How wonderful! I'll have to buy new dress robes! Hannah! So when? Just right now? Let me see the ring. Beautiful! We're invited, of course? Don't know how you managed, but you did well, Severus. Bless you both!" She had moved on to Hannah, crushing the laughing woman in her embrace.

Saeran had stood up and joined in the congratulations, but Severus looked at her sharply. There was something strained, slightly forced about her felicitations. He just hoped Hannah wouldn't pick up on it as Saeran gave her a quick, tense hug, and offered her best wishes.

When they finally sat down to dinner again, Anwyn started back in on the questions.

"So where is the wedding going to be?"

"We haven't worked out the details yet. We will let you know as soon as we know," Severus told her shortly.

"Who's going to perform the ceremony?"

"Professor Dumbledore, we hope."

"But what if he isn't available?"

"I'll find someone else," he said with grim determination. He would get married next Saturday, even if it meant practicing his considerable powers of persuasion on some hapless country parson or Registry official.

The dinner passed, with conversation consisting mainly of Anwyn asking questions that he either could not at this point answer, or that were none of her business in the first place. Yet she looked so obviously happy for them that he was at the moment much more inclined to view her with tolerance. When Anwyn started in on the wedding cake - "It is too late, of course, to bake a proper one, but with an aging charm or two we might be able to still come up with something fairly close!" - Saeran rose suddenly.

"That reminds me, we still have pudding coming. - Would you help me?" Saeran looked at Severus with a brittle smile. "We'll leave Anwyn and Hannah to chat."

He followed her into the kitchen. Saeran took down a cut-glass bowl, and, taking a small earthenware pitcher out of the fridge, poured heavy cream into it. A flick of her wand and a whisk jumped up from the counter and started haphazardly spinning around in the bowl.

"Is something the matter?" Severus said with furrowed brows, observing the way she was determinedly avoiding his eyes.

"This just seems a bit... sudden," Saeran said carefully, as she took the cover off a strawberry-rhubarb crumble that had been cooling on the counter.

"I have known her long enough."

"But she..." Saeran lowered her voice as if afraid to be overheard. "Severus, are you certain?"

Severus' expression had gone glacial. "And here I thought you liked Hannah," he said harshly.

"Oh, I do..." Saeran looked up at him wretchedly. "From all I know, she is a perfectly nice young woman."

"Then what seems to be the problem?"

As they heard Anwyn and Hannah's muffled laughter through the kitchen door, Saeran looked up at her son with a nervous smile. "You have always been so proud...and she's a Squib... I am just afraid...I just want to know..." She faltered. "Why are you marrying her, Severus?" She rushed the words out. "She's quite obviously in love with you, but what about you? Tell me that this has nothing to do with the fact that she has no other expectation of marriage and that you owe her a debt, and I'll be happy for you." She took a few nervous steps. "You and she both deserve better than for you to marry her out of obligation."

Obligation? Severus stared at his mother, and almost laughed. Nothing could be further from the truth. Why? he thought, still looking at Saeran. Because every morning when she enters the Great Hall at breakfast time, she stops in the doorway and looks around until she finds me. And when she sees me, she smiles. Because she wants me, instead of what I can do for her. Because somehow, she can see the good in me, even if I can't. Because when I am with her, it feels as if my shriveled-up soul can breathe again. Because I make her happy.

He took a deep breath and shook his head. "There is no obligation. The truth is that marrying her may be the most selfish thing I will ever do," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm afraid I am getting by far the better end of the bargain." And something leaked out into his voice that made his mother look up and gaze evenly at him for a moment before smiling.

"It is like that, then?" she said softly.

Like what? He had no idea what she was talking about, so he decided to just to keep his mouth shut.

Saeran smiled wider, tears in her eyes. "Good," she said with satisfaction. "I am glad." She drew him into a quick, tight embrace, her lips pecking his cheek. "Congratulations, Severus. I am so pleased for you."

She turned around to where the cream was now standing up in soft peaks, took out the whisk and handed him the bowl. "Go on, take it in. Hannah will be wondering what happened to you."

He stared at her for a moment and almost imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders before taking the bowl and rejoining Hannah in the parlor.

Women. He would never understand them.

.-.-.-.

At an hour before noon the next day, Severus was pacing in front of the gargoyle. He had requested a meeting with the headmaster, and had received a note back that Dumbledore would be glad to see him at eleven. Now he was just waiting for Hannah to arrive, and then they would talk to Dumbledore, and the cat would be out of the bag. He paced another few steps.

She arrived on time, smoothing down her robe and fruitlessly attempting to stuff a few escaping strands of hair back into her bun. "How do I look?" she asked, and he could hear the nervousness in her voice as well.

"Fine," he said distractedly. He gave the password, and together they let the stairs carry them up to Dumbledore's study.

When they knocked, the door swung open immediately.

"Severus; Hannah. Did you have a nice Easter?" the old wizard asked as he rose from his desk to greet them.

"Very nice," Hannah said with a shy smile, looking up at Severus.

"So what can I do for you?"

"Well, the thing is..." Severus said, and stopped. His Adam's apple bobbled once as he swallowed hard. "The thing is, we are to be married."

A wide smile spread across Dumbledore's face, even if he did not look at all surprised. "Wonderful news - I couldn't be more delighted. Congratulations to you both, and much joy! When is the happy event to take place?"

"This coming Saturday," Severus said stiffly. "We were hoping that you would do us the honor of officiating at the ceremony."

Dumbledore took of his glasses and rubbed the bridge of is nose. "Next Saturday, you say? I leave late this afternoon, I am afraid, for a conference in Norway, and am not scheduled to return until next Sunday."

Severus' mouth tightened. He should have expected it - of course the Headmaster would be too busy. He inclined his head stiffly. "I am sorry to have bothered you; I could of course not expect anything else on such short notice," he said, his voice emotionless. "We will find someone else."

"Hold on," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "Not so fast. As clever and important as I may be, I dare say everyone at the conference will manage to get along just fine without me for a while. I wouldn't miss your wedding for the world." He motioned them over to the two cushy chairs in front of his desk. "Do take a seat, and we can talk over the details."

After they sat down, Hannah spoke up quietly. "We were hoping to get married here at Hogwarts, sir. Do you think that is possible?"

"I don't see why not," he said thoughtfully. "How many guests are you expecting?"

"Not many," Severus said dryly.

"I assume you will at least want to invite the staff?"

Severus was just about to open his mouth to answer in the negative when out of the corner of his eye he saw Hannah looking at him. "I would like that, I think," she said softly.

He looked at her with drawn eyebrows. Finally, he gave a short nod. "If you wish." This was her wedding as well; might as well give her what she wanted. Within reason.

"I would suggest the Room of Requirement," Dumbledore continued, hands steepled in front of him. "I think the castle can be trusted to provide adequate accommodations. Three o'clock in the afternoon? How about a reception afterwards?"

Severus looked at Hannah resignedly. "Do you want a reception?"

The look on her face told him that, yes, she did, but that she was willing to give way if he was opposed.

He sighed. "A reception, then. Something simple."

"Very good," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I'll let the house-elves know. Now, as for the actual ceremony. A traditional ceremony, I suppose?"

They both nodded.

"Traditional vows, the ring exchange, and then the Binding ceremony?"

"Yes." "No." They both answered at the same time.

Severus' face hardened. "No. We will not be Bound."

Hannah turned to him, eyebrows drawing together. "I don't understand. It's part of a traditional ceremony."

"Is it even possible?" Severus, ignoring her, turned to Dumbledore. "After all, she is a Squib."

"Since the ceremony uses the Bonder's magic, not that of the participants, it should not make a difference," the headmaster said. He looked at them over the top of his half-moon glasses. "I will let you two talk it over. You can let me know Friday evening what you have decided."

"I can let you know right now," Severus said in a hard voice. "We will not be Bound."

"As the headmaster said, we should talk it over." Hannah's voice had gone cold.

"No. There is nothing to talk about."

"Can you at least tell me why?"

"This is non-negotiable," he said firmly. "You will just have to accept my decision."

"Fine, then," she said sharply, pushing the words out through clenched teeth. He cast a cautious glance at her, but she sat stiffbacked, hardfaced, looking down at her hands. He could see the muscles in her throat working as she swallowed away the pressure of unshed tears. She didn't say another word as he and Dumbledore discussed the time for their next meeting. As soon thereafter as politeness allowed, she stood up.

"If you will excuse me, Headmaster, I am going to return to my quarters - there is much to prepare," she said in a tight voice. "If anything else comes up, Severus can just inform me of his decisions later." She inclined her head in his direction and with short, rapid steps left the room.

As the door fell shut behind her, Dumbledore calmly peered at Severus over the top of his glasses for a moment. "Now correct me if I am wrong, but it appears to me that you could have handled that a lot better."

"The Binding is out of the question," he said coldly. "She will have to accept that."

"She might be more willing to accept it if you had offered her any kind of explanation."

"I am not used to explaining myself," he said stiffly. "She will just have to trust me."

"Hm." Dumbledore just continued to look at him noncommittally.

"It was her choice to leave," he said, a trifle petulantly. "Many couples choose not to be Bound these days. I am certainly not alone in that."

"I suppose you are right," Dumbledore said mildly. "But then, I'm not the one that you need to convince." He rose. "Now, you will have to excuse me. If I want to get down to the Ministry to file the necessary paperwork, I will have to hurry."

"Paperwork?"

"A legal necessity, I'm afraid, if you are to be married. It is no trouble; I am meeting my traveling companions there anyway," Dumbledore said. "Until Friday then?"

Severus nodded as he rose. "Yes. And thank you."

.-.-.-.

He walked aimlessly through the corridors for a while after he left Dumbledore's office. He knew where he should be going, but it still took him a good quarter of an hour before he finally managed to make himself knock on her door.

When she opened, he could see that her eyes were red and puffy, but the expression on her face wasn't any softer than when she had left Dumbledore's office.

"Yes?"

"May I come in?"

Without a word, she held the door open for him.

"I think we need to talk," he said stiffly as he followed her into the room.

"Funny. My impression was that you didn't think we needed to talk." She was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded over her chest.

"You are making a mountain out of a molehill," he said irritably.

"The Binding is the highlight of a traditional wedding ceremony. If you don't want to be Bound to me, don't you think that maybe I am at least entitled to know why?"

Severus stared down at her. "Do you even know what happens during the Binding? What it does?"

"It's a knitting together of souls," she said impatiently. "It establishes a closer connection between two people than would ever be possible by non-magical means. Pardon me if I am silly enough to want that with you."

"That is if the marriage goes well. Do you know the reason why the ceremony has gone out of fashion with anyone other than the old pureblood families?" he said sharply. "It is because you irrevocably place your future happiness into someone else's hands. You would never be able to leave the marriage without my consent."

"I'm not going to want to leave." She had that stubborn look on her face again.

"How do you know what you will feel years into the future? You may tire of me."

"Are you afraid you will tire of me? Of living with a Squib?" she asked sharply. "Is that why? I assure you I wouldn't try to hold you if you wanted to leave."

"It has nothing to do with that."

"Then why?"

"Hannah." He grasped her by the shoulders. "My mother and father were Bound. He would not release her. Do you know the abject misery that follows when someone attempts to unilaterally sever the Bond? It is the only reason she stayed with my father. She could not leave, even for my sake. I don't want that to happen to you."

"Now, was that so hard to say?" Hannah asked, her voice still sharp. "Look, I can live with not being Bound, if I have to - what I can't live with is the fact that you think you can just go ahead and make a decision that affects both of us without even asking my opinion or affording me the courtesy of an explanation. Can you understand that?"

After a moment, he reluctantly nodded. Yes, he could see her point.

Her eyes softened. "All right, then. And I shouldn't have run off like that. Sorry." She smiled ruefully at him. "As for being Bound - you are not your father, Severus. Is that what you're worried about? I have no doubt that if I ever wanted to leave, you would release me."

He looked at her, his mouth tightly pinched shut. The truth was that the idea of letting her go was hard to stomach even now. Several years down the road, when he would know her that much better, be that much more used to her presence, their closeness enhanced by the Bond, it might be impossible. He had seen the results of what could follow first hand. And he knew that there was much more of his father in him than he generally liked to acknowledge. He had inherited his father's pride, temper, and possessive streak right along with his nose.

She stretched up her hand and gently ran it down his cheek. "Have a bit of faith in yourself." She smiled at him. "And it's a moot point, anyway. I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

Severus hesitated. "Let me think about it for a few days," he finally said.

Hannah nodded. "Of course. But I want you to know that I have no reservations at all about being Bound to you. On the contrary. If you decide you really don't want that, I will accept your decision. But please know that this is what I would choose."

"Very well." Letting go of her shoulders, he straightened up, looking for a change of subject. He found it in the clock on her wall. "It is getting late. I suppose I should put in an appearance at lunch. Would you care to join me?"

"You and I? Walk down together?"

"Yes." It was time to do away with secrecy.

She smiled at him. "I'd love to."

As they reached the door to the Great Hall, he pulled her off to the side and stopped. "May I escort you to your chair?" he said with a formal bow as he offered her his elbow.

Hannah looked up at him, joy and concern alternating in her expression. "They will laugh at you when they find out about us," she said hesitantly. "The Squib and the Potions master. Does that bother you?"

He looked at her, his eyes slightly narrowing. Yes, it did bother him. But he would never tell her that; it would hurt her too much. The idea of the snickering, pity, and laughter that would follow in the wake of the news that he was to marry a Squib did damage - he winced inwardly - his pride to a certain extent. He felt disloyal even having the thought. She had certainly already put up with a lot worse for his sake. And the truth was that if that was the price he had to pay, so be it. It would be more than worth it.

"Many will think you got the worst part of the deal," he said with a smirk. "You'll have comments coming your way as well. You are marrying a former Death Eater."

She studied him gravely for a moment. "The Squib and the Death Eater," she intoned solemnly, but there was a mischievous glint in her eye. "Sounds like a fine title for a Wizarding novel. You think anyone would buy it?"

He laughed out loud, a short, honking laugh that had several students in the area turning around. "Don't get any ideas," he said with one eyebrow raised. "Ready to face the tribunal?"

She grinned back at him. "Ready."