Mist and Vapors

A/N: Sorry for the long delay; I tried to upload this before, and there was some bug in the system that wouldn't let me. Since I am running into writer's block with the last part of the chapter, I thought I would at least post what I have, so this chapter is shorter, but I hope you enjoy it!

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Fine Feathers

Hannah, out of breath and pink-cheeked, arrived at the front door of Madam Malkin's with only a minute or two to spare. Anwyn and Saeran were already waiting for her.

"I hope I'm not late?" she said anxiously - this was, after all, the first time that she had been alone with Severus' relatives.

"Punctual as can be," Anwyn said with a grin as Saeran greeted her future daughter-in-law with a handshake and a small, tense smile.

"So how is Severus?"

"Back in his own quarters and doing much better."

"I'm so glad to hear that." The relief was evident on Saeran's face. "Is he still in a lot of pain?"

Hannah shook her head. "Madam Pomfrey has him on a strict potion regimen. His leg's still stiff and gives him some trouble when he tries to walk, but other than that, he is doing well." She smiled. "He's bound and determined to make it to the altar under his own power on Saturday."

Anwyn laughed. "Well, then we'd better go and find you a dress. Shall we?" She opened the door with a flourish.

"Thank you for coming with me," Hannah said shyly as she stepped through. "I really wanted someone else's opinion."

"Oh, we're glad you asked," Anwyn said heartily. "I have no children, and you took Saeran's only offspring, so it's not like we're going to have the chance to be involved in a wedding otherwise, is it now?"

She turned as the shop girl - a blonde young witch with too-red lipstick coloring her solicitous smile - approached them. "Madam Malkin is not in?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"I'm afraid not," the young witch said apologetically. "It's her day off. But if I can help you...?"

"We're looking for a wedding grown for this young lady here," Anwyn said, pushing Hannah in front of her.

"If you will follow me?" The saleswitch gestured towards the back of the store. "We have a good selection of robes and gowns off the rack, or you can custom order with a minimum of two weeks' notice..."

"It's a bit late for that," Anwyn said dryly. "The wedding is the day after tomorrow."

The saleswitch looked scandalized. "Well." She cast the three women a slightly forced smile. "In that case, we'd better find a dress that will not require too many alterations." She cleared her throat and gestured towards a rack against the back wall. "Now, traditional or modern style?"

"Traditional," three voices answered in unison. Hannah cast a quick look at Saeran and Anwyn - good thing she had no interest in a modern, Muggle-style gown, or she would have been in deep trouble, she supposed. Over the last century, white wedding dresses had caught on among half-blood and Muggle-born witches, but they were frowned upon in the pureblood world as a further sign of contamination by Muggle culture. But she preferred the rich colors worn by traditional brides, anyway.

"Hm." The saleswitch pulled out her wand and ran it over Hannah, collecting measurements. Then, she put a finger to her lips and regarded the rack with a furrowed brow. "How about this one?" She pulled out a dark raspberry chiffon concoction covered in lace and ruffles.

"I think we would prefer something that looks less like my Great-Aunt Millie's parlor curtains," Anwyn said cheerfully.

Hannah concurred wholeheartedly.

The blonde witch pulled out another one - baby-blue satin with puffed sleeves.

Anwyn eyed the frock with disdain. "Not her color at all. Have you bothered actually looking at her?"

Lips starting to thin, the young witch pulled out another one - a stiff, dark blue moiré with a high waistline and leg-of-mutton sleeves.

Anwyn's lips were starting to thin, too. "She wouldn't be wearing that dress, the dress would be wearing her. We need something simple. Simple and classic. Come now, you must have something suitable?"

The next dress was a hunter green silk - "Too severe." A clingy, bias-cut burgundy velvet dress with a plunging décolleté - "Too brothel, don't you think?"

Hannah bit her tongue to not laugh out loud. The saleswitch, on the other hand, did not look amused in the least.

Finally, they had narrowed the dresses down to three possibilities.

"Well, I suppose you'd better try them on," Anwyn said with a sigh. "Even though I'm starting to think we might have to go down the street and look at Siren Song Witchwear instead."

"They went out of business months ago," the saleswitch said waspishly. "I'm afraid we are now the only purveyors of fine witches' wear in Diagon Alley."

Hannah gave the by now quite harassed-looking young woman an apologetic smile as she followed her into the dressing room. True, the gowns had been atrocious, but then the store's selection was really not the poor saleswitch's fault.

A few minutes later, Hannah stepped back out wearing the first of the dresses - a pale yellow, high-waisted Regency-style gown. "Well?"

The expression on the two witches' faces was not encouraging.

"Hm..." Saeran answered hesitantly.

"It would work, I think," Anwyn said with a grin, "if you want people to think that there is a very, very good reason why you and Severus are getting married in such a hurry."

When she modeled the next gown - a dark-plum georgette, cut close to the body - Anwyn looked at her apologetically. "It's not a bad dress, but forgive me, dear - you would need some actual curves to carry that one off."

With a sigh, Hannah retreated to the fitting room. Anwyn was right, of course, but that hadn't taken the sting out of the comment entirely.

The last dress. Really the one she had liked the most, at first sight. Lifting her arms slightly, she held still as the saleswitch helped her into the dress and then laced the back of the fitted bodice. She looked into the mirror - the mercifully unenchanted, quiet, unopinionated mirror - and drew in her breath. Now this...

The gown was reminiscent of a Tudor era dress, a soft willow green with golden undertones as the fabric caught the light. It was lovely in its simplicity. The bodice accentuated her waist, flattering her figure. The sleeves, tight in the upper arm, flared out from the elbow, revealing delicate silk under-sleeves.

The skirts were deceptively simple, but Hannah had a fair idea of how much skill had gone into the clever pleating. Where the fronts of the skirt were pleated back, a cream underskirt peeked out, delicately embroidered with delphiniums and foxglove blossoms. Hannah touched the fabric carefully, rubbing it between her fingers. She had never owned anything this beautiful.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the dressing room. Please let them like it...

The nervous half-smile on Saeran's face turned warm and genuine. "Beautiful. This really suits you well." Hannah smiled back at her gratefully, then turned to Anwyn for her verdict.

Severus' aunt critically eyed the gown. "Not bad...turn around." Slowly, the grim expression softened into a smile. "I think, my dear," she said as she walked over to Hannah and planted a kiss on her cheek, "we found ourselves a keeper. Do you like it?"

"Very much." Hannah ran a hand over the smooth fabric. Surprisingly enough, the dress was within the amount she had allotted - something not unimportant; most of the meager contents of their Gringotts vaults had been budgeted for establishing their home in Canada.

Anwyn turned to the saleswitch. "It'll need a bit of taking up at the hem, I think? How long will that take?"

"I can have it finished by tomorrow." They could hear the relief in her voice.

Anwyn nodded and turned to Hannah. "Will that be satisfactory?"

"Quite." She cast one last look at herself in the mirror as she walked back into the dressing room and smiled. Yes. Definitely.

When the saleswitch had finished marking the dress for the alterations and Hannah was back in her street clothes, Anwyn hooked one arm around Hannah and the other around Saeran. "Let's celebrate," she said cheerfully. "A round of ice cream at Florean Fortescue's, my treat. I'm in the mood for that delicious snozzleberry sorbet they make this time of year...."

A short time later, the three women were seated around one of the round tables in the ice-cream parlor. They had just ordered when Anwyn theatrically slapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh dear, I completely forgot. I was supposed to pick up an order at Flourish and Blotts before five, and it's almost time. If you will excuse me - " She stood up in a hurry. "Oh, and tell the waitress to delay bringing out the order until I get back, will you?" she called back over her shoulder, already half way to the door.

Hannah looked at Anwyn's retreating back suspiciously. There had been a slightly studied tone to her voice...

"I asked Anwyn to leave us alone for a moment," the nervous voice of Saeran Snape confirmed her suspicions. "I hope you don't mind?"

"Not at all." Her voice sounded stiff even to her. Saeran's demeanor throughout the day had made obvious exactly how uncomfortable the witch was with her. And the fact that she had asked Anwyn to leave seemed to indicate that whatever was coming would not be exactly pleasant to hear. Of course, Hannah supposed that a Squib for a daughter-in-law must be a hard pill to swallow, but - two days before the wedding?

"I thought we needed to talk..."

Go ahead then, Hannah thought bitterly as she gave a short nod. It wasn't as if there was a polite way of not listening to her at this point. Saeran had set her up nicely.

The witch's next words made her look up sharply.

"I know you must...dislike me." Saeran's voice sounded tense, and Hannah could see her hands clench together tightly. "But I thought that before the wedding, I'd at least..."

"Dislike you?" Hannah interrupted her dumbly.

Saeran looked down at her hands, fighting tears. "You must blame me...if I were you, I would be angry..." Her voice was a near whisper.

"Angry?" Hannah said, completely taken aback. "You were under the Imperius; you aren't responsible for what..."

"Not that," Saeran interrupted, still not looking at her. "He must have told you...about when he was a boy...the things that...that Augustus..."

Oh. "He did," Hannah said quietly.

"Please...I know that I was a terrible mother. I just want you to know that I regret...that I wish..." She stopped and swallowed hard. "I am sorry. And I have told Severus so - not that that makes it any better." She finally looked up at Hannah, her eyes pleading. "I know you must blame me for not protecting him. I blame myself. I wish I had..." She stopped again. "I can't expect you to forgive me, but I do so wish..." Her voice trailed off.

Reaching across the table, Hannah put her hand over Saeran's, still clenched together so tightly the knuckles were showing white. "I can't say that I haven't been angry..." she said carefully. "It hurts to think of what has been done to him."

He had told her about his childhood, bits and pieces, here and there. Enough to make Hannah fervently hope that Augustus Snape was roasting in hell for what he had done to his son. Severus had needed a protector, and again and again - at school and at home - the adults in his life had failed him, hurt upon hurt, a new wound before the previous one had had time to heal. Just thinking about it made her eyes sting. His life might have fallen into such different lines if it hadn't been for the pain and abuse his father had doled out so freely or the relentless bullying that had been his life at Hogwarts.

But once she had seen Saeran - frail, timid, abused herself, in constant fear throughout her married life - she had felt pity more than anger.

She hesitated, feeling her way through the words, trying to phrase them the right way. Yes, she had felt unkindly towards Saeran at first. But then there had been the rest of the story. Severus had told her about how his mother used to read to him when he was little, how she had taken him for walks in the country, away from the oppressive atmosphere of the house, how she would come and comfort him behind his father's back, knowing how much it would have angered Augustus had he found out.

"You were the only one who did love him, for the longest time. I don't know what he would be like if he hadn't had you. The fact that he is capable of caring about me now - I think I owe that to you. And I thank you for that." She smiled at her, her eyes tearing up. "So, no, I don't dislike you. Not at all."

Saeran blew her nose into her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "Thank you," she said carefully, with a quavering smile. "I know I don't deserve it, but...." She slowly let out a breath. "I'm so glad we had this talk..."

"So am I." Hannah smiled back at her, then swallowed and braced herself. Might as well get everything out into the open. "To tell you the truth, I thought that you didn't approve of me... being a Squib and all...most pure-bloods would be appalled..."

With a wry smile, Saeran shook her head. "We made a fine mess of things, didn't we? Frankly, I'd given up hope that Severus would ever make a match, and then at Easter..." She smiled. "No, I'm really quite pleased with the way - "

"Well, are you two all sorted out?" Anwyn's hearty voice butted into the conversation. The witch looked critically from one pair of red-rimmed eyes to the next, then grinned. "Good, good," she said, satisfaction in her voice. "About time. I've been getting a bit tired of the two of you traipsing around each other as if on egg-shells. So - can we eat now?"