Dastardly Schemes and Drastic Measures

When Fiji Mermaids Attack ...

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Albus Dumbledore said slyly as he buttered a slice of toast.

"What of it?" Severus Snape growled, knowing whatever Albus had to say, he didn't want to hear it. He stared resolutely down at his half-empty teacup, unwilling to meet his eyes.

Albus sighed rather dramatically and Severus was certain he was being made fun of. "Spring is such a wonderful time of the year, Severus. So ... romantic. It always seems as if one can hear ... wedding bells in the air, eh?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw Hermione Granger rolling her eyes at the old man's antics. "I have no idea what you're babbling on about, Albus," he said, injecting as much venom into his voice as he dared. After all, Albus was his employer -- both at Hogwarts and in the Order.

"I just meant to say," Albus pushed on, "that during the spring, everything is in bloom. Flowers, trees, relationships."

Hermione growled quietly and Severus poked an elbow gently into her side. "Albus ..." she warned through grit teeth.

"Yes, my dear?" he replied gamely.

"Stop. It."

He put on his best innocent face. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Hermione. I was simply making conversation. Would you care for some more tea?"

She sighed and accepted the teapot with only a slight hesitation. Severus heartily agreed with the sentiment -- he wouldn't put much of anything past Albus Dumbledore. He sniffed the tea she poured into his cup suspiciously.

With a chuckle, Albus took a bite of his toast. "Is the tea not to your liking, Severus?"

"I take my tea without Veritaserum, Albus," he replied pointedly.

Albus was impassive. "Shame about it being odorless, isn't it?"

He sat the cup back down and noted that Hermione did the same with her own teacup. All of a sudden, Severus was tired. "Fuck all, Albus," he sighed, "if we agree to get married, then will you leave us alone?"

In that moment, several things happened at once. Albus' elbow missed the table edge and found a bowl of oatmeal, Hermione's teacup hit the floor, and the few students in the Great Hall this early in the morning began muttering excitedly. Whether it was from the unexpected expletive 'fuck' or the even more unexpected word 'married' crossing their horrible Potions master's lips, Severus was unsure.

Hermione stood, taking Severus' arm (and consequentially, the rest of him) with her. "Outside, now!" she whispered fiercely, apparently willing to ignore the tittering students as she dragged him out of the Great Hall.

Once safely out of reach of the most annoying ears, she fixed him with a glare. "What the bloody hell are you on about, Severus?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said carefully.

She continued to give him a baleful stare. "Don't you dare play Dumbledore with me, Severus Snape!"

Letting out a deep breath, Severus felt utterly defeated. "What do you want me to say, Hermione?"

"Did you mean it?"

His eyes widened. That hadn't been the response he'd been anticipating. "I beg your pardon?"

"Severus," she sighed. "If you were ever actually going to propose, I imagine you'd have to go about it in the most unromantic way possible. This comes awfully close. So, I reiterate -- did you mean it?"

Suddenly, he felt very insecure. "Well ... I suppose ... that is, if you want ... then, of course we could ..."

"So ...?" It dawned on him that she might be as anxious as he was.

Severus let out a breath and did his best to collect himself. "Hermione Granger, will you, could you possibly do me the honor of granting me your hand in the most final, eternal bonds of matrimony and make me the happiest man that has ever walked the face of the Earth?" he asked in a flat monotone. "There, was that more to your liking? I can kneel down if you'd like."

She grinned, seemingly relaxed, and punched his shoulder. "Of course I'll marry you, you dumb shit."

-- -- -- -- --

"Congratulations!" Harry Potter cried as Hermione cautiously opened the door. Without missing a beat, he threw his arms around her shoulders and squeezed tightly.

Blinking, Hermione shoved him away. "You're late, I suppose. We've been engaged for a whole thirty minutes, wonderboy."

He shrugged and stepped into the front room of Severus' (and Hermione's, as of late) quarters. "Albus told me at our meeting after breakfast. I owled Draco, of course -- he'll be along directly."

"Hermione?" she heard Severus call from the bedroom. "Are you -- oh," he broke off, entering the room and catching sight of Harry. "Potter. Why am I not surprised?"

"Morning, Severus," Harry replied cheerfully. "I hear from Albus that congratulations are in order. At least you had the decency to ask her on a weekend, so you don't have to go off and teach right after."

"Don't you have some ... celebrity something to do?" Severus asked with a frown.

Harry grinned and took off his cloak. "Nah. World's been saved, autographs have been signed. I'm quite at leisure, really."

"Oh, good," Severus said in a tone that suggested the exact opposite.

"Now ..." Harry said, walking through to the sitting room and claiming the sofa, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Tell me all about it, Hermione. Before Draco gets here -- I want to be the first to know."

She sat down in the chair opposite him and gave him a look that was both curious and suspicious. "You're awfully interested, Harry. I mean, I know you're happy for us and all, but really ..."

There was a knock at the door.

"Oh, God," she heard Severus sigh after the door opened. "What are you doing here?"

"You wound me to the quick, Uncle Severus," Draco Malfoy replied in a falsely sweet voice. "I just wanted to deliver my heartfelt wishes of --"

"They're in the sitting room," he snarled, cutting Draco off abruptly.

Shaking his head, Draco came into the sitting room, taking his place at Harry's side. "You see how he treats family?"

"You're not my family, Draco," Severus called from the doorway.

He ignored the jibe. "So, Hermione, what's this Harry tells me about a proposal?"

With a sigh, Hermione folded her hands in her lap. "Not much to tell, really," she said breezily. "He asked Albus if he'd leave us alone if we got married, I called him a shit, and now we're engaged."

"Ah ... young love," Harry said sarcastically. "Pay up, my dearest darling."

Draco made a face.

Interest piqued, Hermione sat up straighter. "What's this, then?"

"A bet," Draco replied grudgingly, digging around in one of his robe pockets. "I didn't think my lovely Uncle Sev would ever get around to marriage. You, my dear, just lost me fifty Galleons." Face still rather sour, he shoved a jingling bag into Harry's hands. "And you," he told a smirking Harry, "shouldn't gloat so about your insufferably romantic notions being accurate for the first time ever."

"Don't be a sore loser, Draco," Harry teased as he pocketed his winnings. "I'll buy you something pretty with my swag."

Draco pouted. "Your dashing pirate talk won't sway me," he boasted stoutly.

"If you two are planning on persisting with such ludicrous behavior," Severus said as he strode into the room and stood behind Hermione's chair, "I will turn you out directly. On your asses, preferably."

"They'd probably like that," Hermione grumbled as Draco laughed merrily at his cousin.

Harry leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "So ... when's the date?"

She exchanged a glance with Severus. "Don't know," she replied.

"Well, where will it be, then?" he asked, leaning further.

"Don't know," she repeated.

"Who are you inviting?" Harry was beginning to sound frustrated as he tilted even further forward.

"Don't know," she said emphatically. "And Harry, you're going to fall over if you keep doing that."

Draco smirked as Harry straightened up. "Can I be your best man, Uncle Severus?" he asked sweetly.

Severus was silent for a moment, ostensibly considering it. "No," he finally said. "And you can't either, Potter," he said quickly to Harry's opening mouth. "So don't bother asking."

"Who will it be, then?" Draco asked, verging on exasperation. "You don't know that many people, Uncle Sev."

"Draco, I swear by everything holy that if you don't stop calling me that, I'll ... I'll ... I don't know what I'll do, but I promise it will involve impotence potions and rabid cats," Severus said through grit teeth.

Blinking, Draco actually stopped grinning. "That sounds ... painful."

"It was meant to," he growled. "And to answer your question, I don't plan on having any groomsmen. This will be a small wedding."

"Small?" Harry echoed. "Not after Molly Weasley gets a hold of it it won't be."

Severus looked momentarily disconcerted. "Molly Weasley? What on Earth would she ...?" Trailing off, he and Hermione apparently had the same idea at the same time.

"Albus!" they cried in an eerie unison.

Shooting out of her chair, Hermione made a mad dash for the door. "Maybe we can catch him before he sends the owl."

Not too far behind, Severus pulled out his wand. "I've always wanted to Stupefy him."

They were halfway up the stairs when they heard it. A loud, definitely female voice echoing through the corridors. "Oh, Hermione! Severus! I'm so happy for you two!"

With a groan, Severus sat down on the step he'd been standing on. "We're too late," he moaned. "She's here."

She sighed and put her best 'I'm so glad to see you' face on. "Let's just go ahead and get it over with," she told him. "Pretend to be happy."

"She doesn't expect it of me," he replied, wincing at the elbow she promptly drove into his side. "Well ... she doesn't," he said lamely. "She knows I'm not a happy person."

"Everyone's happy when they're engaged, Severus," she said deadpan. "Everyone." Fixing him with a glare that brooked no argument, she told herself to be satisfied when he simply stopped scowling. "That'll have to do," she sighed.

And then there was no more time for further bickering as a beaming Molly Weasley bore down upon them, arms spread wide. "Albus just Flooed me with the wonderful news," she cried, throwing her arms around a suddenly sheepish Hermione.

"Erg," she managed as she tried not to flinch at the touch.

The embrace ended and Hermione heaved a mental sigh of relief, smirking at a startled Severus, who had just realized he was to endure the same treatment. "Um ..." he stammered.

"My dear boy," she exclaimed, patting his cheeks for good measure as she released him. "I always knew you would come through."

Severus' hands worked furiously at his sides and Hermione was absolutely floored to see a slight blush across his cheeks. "Um," he said again, apparently at possibly more of a loss than before.

But Molly turned away from him and tucked her hand swiftly around Hermione's elbow. "Tell me all about it, dear," she said with a conspiratorial wink. "Was it as romantic and wonderful as you hoped it would be?"

She grinned evilly at Severus over Molly's shoulder. "Actually," she said mischievously. "It rather was."

Smiling broadly at an increasingly dour Severus, Molly gave his hand a pat. "I always knew that underneath all those scowls was a sensitive romantic."

Hermione tried to mask her laugh with a quick series of coughs.

Either she didn't notice or simply didn't care. "Have you two set a date, then?"

"Not exactly," she admitted with only a small wince, unwilling to lie outright.

"It should be soon," Molly said firmly. "Autumn weddings can be so lovely. You could even have it outdoors. I'm sure Albus would let you --"

"Molly ..." she tried to interrupt.

But to no avail. "With the trees. They would just look so ..."

"Molly!" She sent Severus a panicked look as Molly Weasley continued to plan their wedding.

"I'll have a word with Madam Malkin, my dear. She'll know just what to --"

"Mrs. Weasley!" Severus finally said firmly, recovering himself.

Blinking, Molly broke off her monologue and offered him a pleasant smile. "Yes, Severus?" she asked sweetly.

Hermione could tell that he was gritting his teeth as he ground out a reply. "I think Hermione and I would like to wait a while before beginning our wedding plans," he said as civilly as he could, which was decidedly more than Hermione thought she could manage given the circumstances.

Seemingly unfazed, Molly shook her head. "The earlier you begin planning, the more smoothly it will go, you know."

"Highly doubtful," he replied flatly. "But we'll take it under advisement."

Whether Molly had finally picked up on their reluctance to discuss the matter or simply had better things to do, Hermione didn't know. She just gave them both another brisk squeeze, patted Severus' cheek and kissed Hermione's, saying, "Well, I've got to be off, my dears. But I wanted to let you know how happy I was for the both of you."

And she bustled off in the same direction she'd come from.

Severus blew out a sigh. "Is everyone going to be like that?" he asked darkly.

Hermione didn't want to reply, as she hated lying and being pessimistic nearly equally. Finally, she gave an evasive shrug and took his hand in her own as they walked back to his quarters. "Hopefully not," she said, for lack of anything better.

"That lacks the definitiveness I was hoping for," he said with a quirked eyebrow.

Hand stopping just short of the doorknob, she looked up at him thoughtfully. "Harry and Draco are still in there, aren't they?"

"Unfortunately," he said, scowling only slightly.

"I think," she began slowly. "I think I'd enjoy a nice walk to the lake. Wouldn't you, Severus? Just us."

His eyes expressed his gratitude as he kissed her.

-- -- -- -- --

"Maybe a letter would be better after all," she said desperately.

"Look," Severus exclaimed. "Yesterday you said that a letter was 'too impersonal.' And you said it within earshot of Albus. So you can't back out of it now. He even arranged his schedule so he could cover all of my afternoon classes."

Hermione blew out a huffing sigh. "Severus ..." Even she winced at the whine in her tone.

It was clear that he was trying to smile. "Your mother dislikes me and your father distrusts me already, Hermione. It's not as if I'm not aware of this. What's the worst thing that could happen?"

"My father does own a revolver, you know," she said, covering her face with her hands and hoping he would take the bait.

Rolling his eyes, he folded his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at her. "Doubtful," he replied. "Now ... if I recall, you told your mother in your owl that we would be there at one o'clock. It is currently five minutes 'til."

"What would I have to do to convince you that we don't need to go?" she asked in one last attempt.

"Bring the Dark Lord back from the dead and undo all of Potter's hard work."

"I hate you."

His face was bland and his voice was deadpan. "And that would be why we are getting married, my dearest, loveliest love."

With a grimace, Hermione elbowed him. "That might be the most terrifying thing I think I've ever heard come out of your mouth."

Severus smiled widely, snidely. "I thought that was 'Dumbledore's got a new mission lined up for us.' Anyway, you're stalling."

Her final sigh was resigned. "Let's get it over with, then," she replied wearily.

At two minutes past one, Hermione threw a final desperate glance in Severus' direction as they reached her parents' front porch. "They never have to know. Let's just get married and never tell them."

"In a world in which both Molly Weasley and Albus Dumbledore exist, that is categorically impossible," he said. "They'll find out eventually and it'll go over best if it's coming out of your mouth when they do."

Still grumbling, she pressed the door buzzer. "It's not that I don't know that, you know ... I just hoped ..."

"Oh, I know," he said, not sounding reassuring in the slightest.

The door opened and Mary Granger smiled at her daughter. "Hermione, dear ..."

"Hello, Mother," she replied, resigned as she accepted her mother's embrace.

"And ... Spart -- Severus," Mary said, correcting herself at Hermione's scowl. Hermione wondered briefly if a hug was in the cards for Severus as well, but Mary simply reached out a hand and gave his shoulder a tentative pat. "It's so nice to see you again," she continued, in a tone that implied the exact opposite.

Severus inclined his head politely. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Granger," he said, quite civilly. For Severus, at least. "It's nice to see you again."

She merely sniffed -- Hermione was not entirely sure what that meant but felt something twist in her stomach all the same. "Mother," she said, drawing Mary's attention away from an increasingly stoic Severus. "How are you doing?"

"I can't complain," she replied, taking her eyes off Severus. "The new fellow your father has brought into the practice is working out quite well -- I'm considering official retirement."

"That's good," Hermione said, following her mother into the house. Mary had been working less and less lately -- she had never been as enthusiastic about dentistry as her husband, and Hermione thought that retirement was probably a good idea at this point. Obviously, her father agreed, as the new dentist -- fresh out of school -- had been brought in around the same time that her mother had started seeing exponentially fewer patients. "Turn your attention to other things."

"I've been thinking about roses, actually," Marry said off-handedly, waving them toward a sofa in the sitting room. "Tea? Lunch will be along shortly. I think your father is mangling salad ingredients as we speak."

"I heard that," a man's voice called good-naturedly from the kitchen. "And if you keep it up, I'll put olives in. Just for you."

Wrinkling her nose, Mary gave them an apologetic smile, focusing more on Hermione than Severus -- that, of course, was to be expected. "Please excuse me, dear. I'm going to go strangle your father. And I'll bring in some tea once I've disposed of the body."

"With lemon for Severus," she called as her mother walked out of the room. Glancing over at him, she saw that Severus was staring after her mother with obvious shock. "It's easy to forget that my parents are really quite normal, isn't it?" she asked lightly.

"I've never heard them ... relaxed before," he admitted.

With a small shrug, she picked up his hand and began tracing the lines in his palm with a single finger. "Mother and Dad are well-matched, I've got to give them that. When they're together, they can almost fool you into thinking that they're sane."

His other hand wrapped itself warmly around her wrist. "Have you ever felt that you were a lone speck of rationality floating in a sea of madness?"

She laughed. "Constantly."

-- -- -- -- --

"On the one hand," Hermione began in a hesitant voice, "it means that Mother won't want to be part of the planning stages."

Severus grunted, not in the mood.

"And I'm sure she'll want to apologize. Eventually."

"Hermione," he said through grit teeth. "I do not want to talk about it."

"Most of the redness has gone down, by the way," she continued carefully. "There's nothing we can do about the bruise, though."

Another grunt. I will not hex my fiancée, Severus told himself fervently. I will not hex my fiancée.

She sighed and Severus began to suspect that she was nearly as miserable as he was. "I was surprised when Dad leapt into the fray like he did -- I'd no idea he comes as close to actually liking you as he does."

"I'd no idea I was so unlikable," he said, tone sullen and eyes fixed firmly on his shuffling feet. Aware that he sounded like a petulant four-year-old boy, the throbbing area around his left eye reminded him that he did not care in the slightest.

Laughing humlessly, she grabbed onto his shirtsleeve -- he was wearing Muggle clothing in an increasingly vain effort to please her mother, as was Hermione herself -- and pulled him to a halt. "When have I ever said that? I'll have you know I find you eminently likable. Lovable, even."

His scowl only softened minutely.

"Severus ..." she began, drawing his name out in a hiss that he found more sensual than annoying. Funny, when Draco Malfoy did that, it made his skin crawl.

With a little smile, Hermione rose to her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Forgetting the entire awful afternoon, Severus wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, concentrating on the scent of her hair.

Breaking off the kiss, she laid her head familiarly on his chest. "You still smell a bit like beef, you know," she murmured.

"I will assume, madam," he said stiffly, not removing his arms, "that you are attempting to tease me."

He could feel the puffs of air through his shirt as she spoke. "Any success on that front?"

"Not so much as you would think." His tone was nearly thoughtful, and the throbbing in his eye had died down to a periodic mutter of pain. "But mostly because I suspect you are more correct than not. A shower is in the immediate future for me. Would you care to make an inane comment about water conservation?"

"I'm fairly certain that you just did," she replied, tugging on his shirttail a bit. "So we can probably skip that part and just assume that I'm going to join you. Shame we can't just Apparate there, though. Today of all days."

"The pleasantness of the walk from the front gates is greatly outweighed by the inconvenience of dealing with people one meets along the way," he agreed ruefully. "Although I see nothing special about today."

She laughed and reached up to kiss him again. "You must have been too busy glowering at breakfast to actually pay attention to Albus."

"I do try." His expression was blank as he released her from his embrace and they resumed their walk up to the castle. "Breakfast and Albus Dumbledore should be mutually exclusive entities."

"Only because he's a morning person and you're ... well ... you're you." She grinned at his frown and gave his hand a squeeze. "Albus was having Harry and Malfoy over for supper this evening -- he and Harry had a meeting this afternoon, it seems. So we'll have those two to evade as well."

He huffed. "All of their damned wedding nonsense. If Draco bloody Malfoy asks me about china patterns one more time, he's going to have to fish something very near and dear to his heart out of the Panama Canal."

"For once, I think I --"

"There you two are!" the Malfoy in question shouted as he trotted down the hill they were currently working up. "Harry's been in Albus' office for ages, and there's only so much prattle from the other staff that I'm willing to endure."

"Afternoon, Malfoy," Hermione said. Severus just nodded.

"Evening more like," he replied. "It's getting close to -- hey!" Looking Severus up and down, Draco's face split into a wide grin. "Albus mentioned that you were going to spend the afternoon with your parents. I assume it didn't go well?"

Severus resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands. "It did not," he agreed complacently.

"I'd no idea your father was one for hitting boyfriends," Draco told Hermione, still grinning. "No wonder you wouldn't take Harry or Weasel home with you when you were kids."

Shaking his head minutely at Hermione, Severus mentally begged her not to speak. Of course, she did not heed him, if she'd picked up on his distress at all. "Dad didn't hit him," she said. Draco's mouth opened and apparently she could tell just as well as Severus could what his next words were going to be. "And I didn't either," she continued quickly, before he could speak. "Honestly, what sort of people do you think we are?"

"What, Uncle Sev, are you going to tell me that you walked into a doorknob that was placed six feet off the ground?" he asked sarcastically.

Severus' smile was mirthless. "Not exactly."

Eyes widening, Draco laughed shortly. "You're not telling me ... Mrs. Granger plugged you? Merlin's balls, Uncle Severus, she must be tall, to have gotten your eye like that!"

"Mary Granger did not punch me, Draco," Severus said sternly.

"With her fist, anyway," Hermione mumbled.

Severus froze as Draco perked up, obviously catching her words. "What was that? Are you telling me, then, that she hit him with something else?"

"No," he said in a desperate voice, knowing that next to Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy was the last person walking the face of the Earth that needed to know. "Don't be foolish, boy."

Draco narrowed his eyes and pinned them both with a calculating stare. "There's something either very awful or very funny that you're not telling me here."

"I don't know what you could possibly mean," Severus said, trying his best to sound innocent -- Hermione's snort told him that he was probably failing.

"I'll find out one of these days, make no mistake," he warned, wagging an admonishing finger at the pair. "But I'll leave it alone for now. Supper will be starting soon and Harry will be looking for me. See you two up at the castle?"

"Doubtful," he said, mind working overtime. "We were planning on having supper out, to make up for the debacle at lunch. No, you can't come along and no, we won't bring you anything back."

Draco's mouth closed with an audible snap.

Hermione was clearly on the verge of internal hysterics. "Well ..." she drawled, an edge of laughter coloring the apology she was clearly trying to make. "We'll see you around, Draco." To her credit, she was able to wait until Draco had vanished back into the castle before bursting into wild laughter.

"Are you quite finished laughing at my expense?" he asked dryly.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she managed between giggles. "It's just ... it wasn't nearly as funny until I thought about you trying to hide it from Draco and Harry."

"Nice to know I can provide you with some amusement."

Rolling her eyes, she kissed his cheek. "Oh, Severus," she said with a sigh. "There's never any doubt of that. And I think to make it up to you, I'll buy you supper. Dessert, even."

"That's a start." But he felt his expression softening as he spoke. They started walking again, still holding hands.

"You know," Hermione began slyly as they walked back down the slope, "we'll probably be able to look back on this a hundred years from now and laugh. It's one of those things, I bet -- another one of those 'couple story' things."

"No, it's not," he replied. "I don't intend letting anyone know about what happened today. It's too ..."

"Funny?"

"Humiliating," he corrected. "You try being assaulted with a baked meat and then see how you like it."

"I'd no idea she would actually throw the pot roast at you," Hermione said. "If I had, I would've warned you to duck. Or waited to tell her about the wedding when she wasn't holding the entire thing."

"How thoughtful of you ..."

-- -- -- -- --

"Would you mind terribly if I killed Harry Potter?" Severus asked, collapsing on the sofa with a sigh.

Hermione barely looked up from the folder she was perusing. "Draco would probably care more about it than I do and I'm not thrilled with him at the moment. Why?"

"Tuxedos," he said simply, expressing all of his anger and hatred in a single, eloquent word.

"At least that's all you've got to worry about." Again, she kept her eyes focused on her reading.

There was a rustle and she assumed that he shifted position. "That's what you think. Next week, Potter and Draco are dragging me out ring shopping. And Molly Weasley insists that I care about what sort of cutlery we use at the reception. What does the 'Eternal Flame' pattern mean, anyway?"

Finally, she looked over at him and saw that his face looked nearly as haggard as hers felt. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "But they're very excited about having it, aren't they? And the six hundred guests. And the theme -- when the hell did we decide to have a theme to our wedding, Severus?"

"When the hell did we even decide to have a wedding?" he countered. "The last thing I know that we discussed was that someday we were going to get married. We haven't been able to make a decision since. Not that hasn't been countermanded. Apparently, Albus is the one that chose our wedding date -- never mind that you were supposed to be in Italy and I had practicals scheduled in half of my classes."

She sighed and buried her face in her hands. "I can't believe it's gotten out of hand so quickly. It's not even been a month. And it's not like we haven't tried telling everyone to bugger off ..."

"They're like human Bludgers," he agreed. "They just keep coming and coming and you finally just give up out of sheer exhaustion."

"It's not fair," she mumbled through her fingers. "Usually Beaters get bats, at least."

A pair of warm hands wrapped themselves around her shoulders and Severus pulled her to his chest, rubbing her arms comfortingly. "They've got us so effectively guilt-trapped that we're actually going to go through with this miserable thing. They're going to plan exactly what they want, truss us up like Christmas geese, put us on parade, and then expect us to be happy about it. And we're going to do it."

Humming, she leaned back into his embrace, wanting nothing more than to tell the entire world to leave them the hell alone. "Didn't people used to be afraid of us? Well ... of you, at least ..."

"It's all of this damned romance," he told her fondly. "It's hell on the reputation."

"I just wish ..." Something clicked in her mind. "I wonder ..."

"What?"

"Maybe we can fix this," she said slowly. "Severus ...?"

His rumbling query vibrated pleasantly through his chest and she smiled up at him, finally opening her eyes.

"Severus, have you ever heard about the Fiji mermaid?"

-- -- -- -- --

"Hermione, dear, we must have a decision from you," Molly said. "I know you don't have a preference, Severus. Don't make that face at me."

He tried to stop rolling his eyes, even as Hermione swiftly thrust her elbow into his side. "I don't see why ..."

"Solidarity," she whispered. "Remember the Fiji mermaid." And then, more loudly. "I honestly don't care, Molly. I'm not the one who's going to be wearing the dress."

"But, dear, it's your wedding," she said. "Don't you want it to be exactly what you want?"

Severus bit back a malicious grin and an even more malicious rejoinder as Hermione simply said, "you're right, Molly. I do want my wedding to be exactly what I want. But that doesn't include the colors of things. I think Ginny is perfectly capable of making up her own mind. And since she's the only bridesmaid, it's not like she's going to have to worry about clashing."

Over her mother's shoulder, Ginny Creevey mouthed, Thank you, widely. She was already clad in a ridiculous confection that Molly had chosen -- Severus was unsure as to what the actual style would be called, but it seemed to involve yards and yards of lace and lots of puffy places. Molly had absolutely forbidden him to set eyes on the dress she'd chosen for Hermione, but Hermione had assured him one night that it was ten times worse than Ginny's.

"But the flowers, Hermione, and the ..."

Hermione waved her hand. "Any color Ginny wants. There, Molly. That's exactly what I want for my wedding. Ginny, what's my color?"

With a breath of relief, Ginny pointed her wand at her dress. "Well ..." she said. "How about ..." Muttering under her breath, she flicked her wand and the dress shimmered from the bright pink -- clashing mightily with Ginny's red tresses -- to a soft green.

"I love it," Hermione said flatly, eyes challenging Molly to say a word.

Of course she did. "But the centerpieces for the reception ..."

"They have greenery in them, don't they?" she asked. "And besides, who says that everything has to be the same color? We can have a little bit of variation, can't we? After all, both Harry and Draco said that they utterly refuse to wear cummerbunds in that shade of pink you've been pushing at me."

Molly cocked her head. "That pink just goes with your hair and complexion so well, my dear."

"And it's at absolute war with everything else. So, I think, Ginny, green it is." Hermione folded her arms across her chest and looked down her nose at Molly. Severus bit back another smile -- she referred to this as her 'big, bad Professor Snape imitation' behind closed doors. In their early acquaintance, this had utterly infuriated him, but through the years, he'd come to see it as more of a backhanded compliment than anything else.

"Fine, dear," Molly said, admitting defeat without much chagrin. "Of course, that means we'll have to redo the china ..."

Severus heard the groan before Hermione could suppress it. "The Fiji mermaid ..." he reminded with a drawl.

"Yes, Severus," she said with only a small sigh. "The Fiji mermaid."

-- -- -- -- --

"You can't give her that ring!" Draco exclaimed.

Severus contrived to look wounded. "And why not?"

"Because," Potter chimed in. "It's ugly."

"It is not," he said, feeling oddly childish. "Look, just because you two twits like diamonds doesn't mean that everybody does."

"Wedding bands should either be plain or a simple diamond solitaire," Draco argued.

Deep within the confines of his robes, Severus' hand fisted around his wand, the knuckles white with suppressed frustration. The Fiji mermaid, he thought, his mental voice sounding unnervingly like Hermione. "It is plain," he said. "Well ... plain enough."

"But it's not feminine at all, Uncle Sev." Throwing his hands up in the air, Draco's face was the picture of irritation. "In fact, I'd bet you just picked out a man's band here."

"First of all, Draco, call me that again and you'll end your days as a groundhog in Hagrid's garden," he began. "And secondly, of course it's a woman's band -- there're flowers in the latticework there. See?"

All Fiji mermaids aside, Severus was damned if he was going to let someone else pick out Hermione's wedding ring. The ceremony was one thing. And as soon as he'd laid eyes on this one, he knew it was perfect. Just enough Celtic knot work in the metal to be a little elegant -- the wizarding jewelers had been able to put far more detail into the ring than the Muggle ones Draco and Potter had been dragging him to all month, hence the little rosebuds detailed every now and again (almost too small for the naked eye to make out, really) -- but simple enough not to interfere in the day to day as Auror Granger went about her business.

It was different and that was most of the reason it appealed to him. And he rather thought that was why it would appeal to Hermione as well.

"No," he said in a final tone. "This is the one."

"Uncle S --"

"Draco ..." he warned, moving a hand to his wand again.

Shaking his head, he backed away. "All right, all right. Buy your ugly old ring and be done with it."

"You know ..." Potter drawled, picking up the little box and turning it this way and that. "It's not really that ugly, now that I look at it."

Draco sighed. "Oh, no, not you too."

"No, really," he protested, continuing to examine the ring from various angles. "It's more ... interesting, like. And the metal is ... all shimmery. An alloy?" He looked over at Severus questioningly.

"Enchanted," he replied, only a hint of smugness in his voice. "A few charms while the metal is being worked -- purely for effect, of course. Real magical rings are not so obvious. These are just far more aesthetic than your average ring -- not too many smiths do them any more, either, so this one is quite a find. All things considered."

Draco's face was skeptical and his voice snide. "How the hell do you know so much about jewelry, Uncle Severus?"

"The study of the uses of metal in potions to various efficacies," he said easily enough. "As a student, I was curious as to whether or not the properties of enchanted metal would have any sort of effect on certain potions. I was unable to test my theories, as it became increasingly apparent that there was no one around to produce the potions equipment."

"I thought you said that they don't have any real power," Potter challenged.

Had the idiot learned nothing from his classes at Hogwarts? "You can't use a silver cauldron to cast a Cleansing Charm either, but if you try to brew Wolfsbane in it, you'll probably set yourself on fire. Do you catch my meaning, Potter?"

Draco sniggered and Potter, annoyed, punched his lover's shoulder lightly. "Are you done with your lecture, Professor?" Potter asked in a sarcastic voice. "Buy your ring and let's go. We've got to meet the rest of the party at the florist's in ten minutes."

Closing his hand around the ring box, pleased to have won his minor battle but well aware that he was on his way to losing the war itself, Severus held his tongue. The Fiji mermaid, Severus, his internal Hermione reminded him.

"The Fiji mermaid, indeed," he told himself with only a small sigh.

-- -- -- -- --

"If I've got to go, then you've got to go as well," Hermione said sternly, pausing to wave her hairbrush at him.

He did not move. "Your mother will be there."

"She'll be on her best behavior, I'm sure."

"And Molly Weasley. Didn't you make some vow a while ago to never put them in the same room together?"

Hermione put her brush down and began twisting and twirling her hair in some intricate fashion that Severus couldn't even begin to follow. "There's nothing for it," she said. "We can't skip out on this one. They're giving this supper in honor of our wedding, Severus. Which, incidentally, is tomorrow, in case you'd forgotten."

"How could I?" he asked, only a tinge of bitterness in his tone. "I've got every-bloody-one reminding me every twenty bloody minutes. 'Severus, isn't it exciting?'" he mimicked cruelly, fluttering his eyelashes in a simultaneously insipid and disturbing gesture. "'Severus, only one more day ... ' I hate this," he ended in a growl as he sat up on the bed, running his hands through his hair. "And tonight will only be worse. A pack of Weasleys, plus the Potter/Malfoy Wonder Duo, and your parents, and Albus Dumbledore. It'll end in bloodshed, you do realize?"

"Of course I do," she said, inserting a pair of rather nice emerald earrings into her earlobes -- he'd given them to her last Christmas, but in private, so that no one could make any Slytherin/Gryffindor jokes. They'd come anyway, of course, as soon as Draco and Potter had pried it out of Hermione just who had given her those 'wonderful gems.' "But," she continued, adjusting their hang, "it might be interesting to watch. If we can manage to stay out of the way, that is."

"I would do any number of horrid things in order to avoid this," he muttered.

She grinned disarmingly over at him. "Don't say horrid, Severus. That's a word that only eighty-year-old maiden aunts use."

Tossing a sock at her reflection in the mirror, he just smirked when she stuck her tongue out at him. "If you weren't the love of my life, I should have to kill you for saying that."

"And you wonder why you had so very few friends growing up ..." she drawled, standing up and walking over to the bed. "How do I look?"

Severus wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, so that she was standing in between his knees, looking up to regard her appearance. "We could ... just stay in for the night," he told her breasts in his best 'sultry voice.'

She tucked a hand under his chin and turned his face up further, so that he was looking into her eyes. "I'm up here, you know ..."

"My offer still stands." He tried waggling his eyebrows in a manner that Potter generally used on Draco, with great success, apparently.

Chuckling, she leaned down to kiss him softly, somehow keeping her lipstick intact. "No go, Severus. Tonight, we pass through the flames."

"Why on Earth are you so content with this?" he asked in a sudden fit of pique, dropping his arms. "Usually you're full of schemes to avoid events like this. I was halfway expecting you to come into luncheon today, demanding that Albus send you and I to China."

"Firstly," Hermione began, brushing a bit of hair out of his eyes and giving him what he was beginning to expect was the same sort of fond, indulgent look that Potter claimed she used to give her bedraggled old cat many years ago. "My schemes have a rather problematic flaw. You're not going to wear your teaching robes tonight, are you?"

"And that would be?" he asked, poking a couple of fingers into a spot on her side that he knew for a fact was ticklish. "And for that matter, what's the matter with my robes?"

"I'm wearing dress robes," she pointed out. "And as for my schemes, haven't you always noticed that they fail spectacularly?"

"Half of the fun of your schemes is watching your expression when they fail spectacularly." He felt a grin threatening to slip out as she punched a closed fist into his upper arm in indignation. "And just because you're wearing dress robes doesn't mean I have to -- you look far better in your dress robes than I."

"True. I would think my dress robes would be a bit tight 'round your shoulders ..."

Severus frowned. "Hermione ..."

The twinkling in her eyes totally belied her innocent expression. "What? I just thought maybe it would be nice if you dressed up for once."

"Won't I be dressed up tomorrow?"

She let out a sigh. "For twice, then."

"Is that anywhere near grammatically correct?" he asked teasingly.

"Severus ..." she warned in a tone eerily similar to the one he'd used on her just moments earlier.

Throwing up his hands mockingly in defeat, he stood up. "Oh, all right, I'll change. Happy?"

Her voice went immediately from threatening to wheedling. "You could wear your green robes ..."

"I don't want to wear my green robes," he replied succinctly, throwing open the closet door and poking his head into the darkness.

"You look so handsome in them," she continued to press.

"Don't care." Pulling out a set of black velvet robes that he'd always been rather fond of, Severus changed quickly, pausing in front of the mirror just long enough to make sure that his hair wasn't standing on end.

Hermione made a minor adjustment to his collar as he walked back over to her. "So you decide to wear robes that'll have Draco Malfoy touching you all night? You know he won't be able to resist."

"You'll be there to protect my honor," he said. "Won't you?"

"Oh, no," she countered. "I come up with the schemes in this relationship. It's your job to take care of honor and the protection thereof. It's somewhere in the contract -- I'm sure of it."

"I thought your schemes always failed," he reminded her as they made their way out of their rooms. He warded them with a single wand flick.

She rolled her eyes. "This one has a chance of working out rather well in the long run, I think."

-- -- -- -- --

Fiji mermaids and the plan be damned, Molly Weasley had to die. A thousand, painful deaths. At the hands of the Dark Lord Voldemort himself.

Too bad Potter had killed him more than a decade ago.

Severus clenched his fists under the table and tried his best to smile.

"I'm so-oo glad I get to be your flower girl, Uncle Severus," one Miss Brittany Harmony Creevey, now aged eight and one half years (or so she'd said), was exclaiming. "Can I call you Uncle Severus? My Aunt Ginny said I could, but my mum said I should ask you first. Did you see my dress, Uncle Severus? Aunt Molly helped me pick it out -- she said it had to be green. I hate green, but I like my dress. There's this lovely bit of ..."

What foul creature had possessed the woman? It wasn't even as if the little Creevey brat was any relation at all to either himself or Hermione.

And for that matter, how had this managed to slip past Hermione? One would think that she knew who her attendants were going to be. He knew that Draco and Potter were to be the groomsmen and that Albus was to officiate. Admittedly, he had forgotten that young Andrew Weasley, Ronald Weasley's firstborn son, was to be the ring bearer, but he hadn't been entirely surprised to re-learn that fact tonight at supper, given the tenuous connection.

"And my shoes," the girl practically squealed -- Severus' stomach turned at the noise. "They're green too. Mum had them dyed especially, and they're ..."

"You remember Brittany," Molly had said this evening, thrusting the grinning chit at them. "I knew we didn't have a flower girl, and Ginny mentioned how much Brittany had enjoyed meeting Severus at her wedding ..."

Hermione had been grinning like a fool at the news. Especially when young Brittany had announced in a loud, self-important voice that she, "was going to sit next to Uncle Severus." Draco had been laughing so hard that for one satisfied moment Severus had thought he was going to choke on his own tongue. Unfortunately, Potter had stepped in with a few strategic whacks on the back.

And so here he was. Hermione at his right elbow, fielding questions from Molly Weasley and glares from Mary Granger, and Brittany Harmony Creevey at his left, whose mouth had literally not closed all evening long. To complete his little circle of personal hell, Draco was sitting across from Hermione, Potter on his left (blissfully away from Severus). But that small bit of mercy was quickly canceled out by the presence of almost-three-year-old Andy Weasley directly across from Severus. Unlike the Creevey brat, the Weasley boy had not had much to say, but he'd also been unable to sit still for so much as a second.

Severus was certain that his shins were black and blue from the little boy's swinging feet. Even worse, the Weasley spawn had also spent the entire night staring straight at Severus as if he were some exotic, unheard of specimen. "You remember Severus, sweetheart," Susan Weasley, Andy's mother, had said as they sat down. "You once spent a whole day with him when you were a baby."

"Sev," Andy had chirped. Draco had laughed and Hermione had instantly driven a preemptive elbow into Severus' side, effectively keeping him from hexing either one.

"You seem awfully fond of your 'Sev' there, Andy," Draco was currently saying from the other side of the table.

"Sev," Andy repeated, not taking his eyes off Severus. "Andy likes Sev."

It was now a tossup -- either Molly Weasley or Draco Malfoy was going to die tonight. "Draco, do not egg him on," he said through gritted teeth.

"Severus," Hermione began quietly, lowly. "Maybe we should --" But Ginny Creevey shouted a question about the bouquet from down the table and she had to turn her attention away.

"You know, Andy," Draco continued, "may I call you Andy? Your 'Sev' and his blushing bride are getting married tomorrow. Do you know what that means?"

The child finally turned his steady, disconcerting gaze away from Severus, fixing round eyes on Draco instead. It nodded. "Gonna carry the pillow tomorrow," it mumbled.

"Indeed, you are," he agreed in a falsely hearty tone. "And then, Andy, do you know what's going to happen next?"

Eyes widening impossibly further -- the child was going to wind up hopelessly pop-eyed if it wasn't careful -- Andy shook his head and sent his red curls flying. "What happens, 'Co?"

"Then, my dear boy," Draco said, making a flourish with his hand that Severus did not like, "then, Andy, your 'Sev' will be a husband. And soon, I'll bet, he'll be a father, and you'll have lots of little Snape cousins running around to play with."

Something sparked in Andy's gaze and those eyes were back on Severus. "Gonna have babies, Sev? Andy likes babies!"

It sounded like a house-elf when it spoke -- leave it to Weasley to produce a child of such a pathetic level of communication. "Uh ... erm ... Andy?" Severus stammered, simultaneously wanting to strangle Draco and keep the Weasley brat from crying. "That's not ... I mean, we're not ..."

"Cousins for Andy," he interrupted with a satisfied little grin. "When?"

Unbelievably, Miss Brittany Harmony Creevey chose to answer. "My mummy said that it takes nine months for a lady to make a baby. She said that when a mummy and a daddy love each other, they start to --"

"No!" Severus cried desperately -- he was not, under any circumstances, going to endure a conjugal lecture from an eight-year-old. "Erm ..." he began, cursing himself as Brittany turned questioning eyes his way. "You were telling me about ..." He gulped. " ... socks?" he guessed randomly.

"Ooh ..." she squealed again -- Severus heaved a sigh of relief -- disaster averted. "They've got the nicest little ring of lace. And pretty little ..."

Blinking, he looked back across the table at Draco and Andy, hoping he could head off that impending disaster as well. To his surprise, however, Draco was making goo-goo eyes at Potter, not paying the Weasley child the slightest bit of attention. And the Weasley child in question was, at the moment, nowhere in sight. For a moment, he felt a sense of panic but then remembered that he wasn't in any way responsible for the child's whereabouts and promptly turned his attention to Hermione. Maybe he could distract her from the rest of the table long enough in order to extract a promise to return back to Hogwarts soon. Very soon. Immediately. Something brushed at his leg through his robes.

"So ... Uncle Severus," Draco said suddenly, drawing his attention away from Hermione's shoulder.

"What?" he asked, irritated.

"Are you sure you didn't want us to throw you a stag party?"

He sighed. "Naked men popping out of cakes don't interest me in the slightest, Draco."

"They wouldn't have been naked," Potter said indignantly, smirking over at him. "They would be wearing g-strings at the very least. Well, to start off with, at any rate."

"Uncle Severus, what's a ...?" Brittany began, clearly confused.

He hated his life. Or, at least, his life at that moment. "Here, Brittany," Draco said quickly, shoving a platter across the table, "try one of these delicious biscuits. Your Aunt Molly made them special for tonight. Way to go, my love," he told Potter with a sarcastic toss of the head, "won't her mum love you introducing that new word into her vocabulary?"

There was another tug at his robes and Severus shifted his feet in the opposite direction. "It's beside the point, anyway," he said in a loud voice, hoping to further distract the seemingly easily sidetracked Brittany. "What would make you think that I wanted a stag party?"

"Well, just to let you know," Potter said thickly, swallowing a bit of biscuit, "we're having one. A bunch of fellows I invited from work, and some chaps that Ron knows. Not to mention all of the Weasleys and a handful of Draco's old friends. You're invited, of course, but we didn't think you'd come."

"Let me get this straight," Severus said, bemused. "You're throwing a stag party for me?"

"Correct," Draco replied, taking a sip of wine.

"Even though you knew I wouldn't want to come?"

"Exactly." Potter polished off his biscuit.

"Why?"

Shrugging, Potter took a second biscuit, broke it in half, and offered a half to Draco. "We wanted to have a party and you were a convenient excuse."

A third tug on his robes and now Severus was beginning to get annoyed. "Glad to be of service," he said sarcastically. "Excuse me ..." Ducking his head under the table briefly, he tried to find the source of the tugging, ignoring Hermione's hissed, "Severus, what in the hell are you doing?"

Andy Weasley offered him a lopsided grin. "'Lo, Sev."

"What do you want?" he asked the child coldly.

Silently, Andy tugged on his robes again in an obvious attempt to squirm into Severus' lap. Only because he had at least fifteen pairs of potentially watchful eyes did Severus comply, grabbing the child firmly under the shoulders and pulling him out from under the table. Once seated in Severus' lap, he made an immediate beeline for Severus' nose. "Sev!"

A thumb was now uncomfortably reaching up his right nostril. "Stop that!"

To his amazement, Andy actually obeyed, withdrawing his thumb and squinting up at him. "Gimme cousin, Sev. 'Co promised Andy a new cousin."

"Thank you very much, Draco," he muttered under his breath. "Not now," he told Andy in a louder voice.

The boy looked unbelievably annoyed. "Want one now!" he insisted.

What could he say to that?

"Erm, Andy ...?" Draco began.

"Want!" he shouted, pounding a tiny fist into Severus' throat. With an inarticulate cry, he began flailing about in Severus' lap, obviously in the throes of a full-blown temper tantrum.

"Oh, Merlin," he heard a woman -- likely the boy's mother -- exclaim. "Andy!" The voice moved closer. "Andrew Ronald Weasley, you stop that, now!"

The child did not heed her words. If anything he cried harder, now kicking his legs this way and that. Severus longed to simply let the boy drop to the ground but had a dim idea that was somehow unacceptable parenting technique.

"Severus ..." Susan said miserably, standing nearby now, watching the tantrum unfold with obvious anger and embarrassment, "I am so sorry about --"

Suddenly, before anyone could so much as blink, Andy stopped crying, emitted a loud burp, and threw up his entire supper, right in Severus' face.

"Oh shit!" Severus shouted with real feeling, leaping out of his seat and somehow managing to keep a hold on the now hiccupping Andy. He held the child as far away from his body as he could, even though the damage had already been done. "I can't believe he's done it again!"

He distantly noticed that Miss Brittany Harmony Creevey's eyes were rings of amazed disapproval. He also noticed that he didn't care -- covered with dripping vomit, Severus wouldn't have cared if Buddha, Mohammed, and Jesus Christ had all come swooping down on him, screaming epithets about his dearest female relations. He was literally trembling with rage.

"Severus ..." Hermione began timidly, taking a single step forward. "Don't ..."

Ignoring her, he stared down at the Weasley brat. "Detention, Weasley," he said, so infuriated he'd forgotten that he wasn't facing down some tremulous first-year student. "Detention until you fucking graduate!"

There. Two expletives in a single evening. He mentally told Miss Brittany Harmony Creevey to suck on that.

Andy's eyes rounded. "Fucking shit," the little boy said distinctly.

Behind them, Susan Weasley let out a despondent little moan, and Harry Potter began to laugh inanely.

Severus turned around now, still letting Andy dangle in his hands. He felt vomit slithering down the back of his robes and wanted to spend a week in the bath at least. "Can we please go home now?" he asked Hermione. "Please?"

-- -- -- -- --

"Severus, for the umpteenth time, go away," Ginny Creevey told the closed door. "You know Mum thinks it's bad luck for you to see Hermione before the wedding."

"This is ridiculous," Hermione heard Severus say through the door.

"Of course it is," Ginny agreed complacently. "Unfortunately, though, it's just the way it has to be. Look, the ceremony starts in less than half an hour. You'll see her then."

"Look," he continued in what Hermione knew was his best reasonable tone, "wouldn't it be awfully romantic if you were to just, oh, look the other way or something so that I could have a private moment with my lovely bride?"

He was laying it on awfully thick, she decided as she straightened her veil.

"It probably would," Ginny said. "But it would also absolutely enrage my mother, and you don't want to see that. Especially since little Andy has spent the entire morning pointing at things and calling them 'shit.'"

"To be fair," Severus pointed out on the other side of the door, "the little monster did throw up on me prior to the, erm, incident."

"Oh, I know that," she said. "Even Susan and Ron, while terribly embarrassed at Andy's sudden reversion to infancy last night, are as okay with his newfound propensity to swear. But Mum spent last night sitting beside Mary Granger."

There was a thud that could only be Severus' head banging against the door. "Merlin and the saints protect us," he said indistinctly.

"Cheer up, Severus," Hermione said, "I saw Mother this morning as she was coming in and she wasn't bearing any luncheon meats of any sort. I think it'll all work out for the best."

"Shut up," he threatened through the door as Ginny shot her a questioning look.

But Hermione held her tongue and the question in Ginny's eyes faded to mere amusement. "You know," she began thoughtfully, "I think I'm having second thoughts about exposing my children to you two."

She stared at her friend and very nearly dropped her bouquet. "Ginny, are you telling me ...?"

With a nod, Ginny's face lit up in a beaming grin. "Colin and I just found out a few weeks ago. I'm nearly three months pregnant."

"I'm really happy for you," she said sincerely. "Both of you."

"We haven't told Mum yet," she continued. "The timing's just not been very good. Can't wait too much longer, though, or she'll be able to guess herself."

"I would congratulate you," Severus said, muffled through the wood. "But I feel that I cannot do it justice unless I can see you in person."

Ginny laughed and gave the door an oddly affectionate pat. "Nice try," she said. "But I'm far more afraid of my mother than I ever was of you."

"Pity."

Trying to be casual, Hermione let her eyes flick over to the clock. Twenty minutes. "Erm, Ginny? Maybe, if you wouldn't mind, you could give me and Severus a couple of minutes. You can tell Molly that I put you up to it."

With a slight eye roll, Ginny looked back and forth between Hermione and the door. "Ah, young love," she said, only the slightest hint of cynicism in her voice. "Oh, all right." She opened the door to reveal a clearly uncomfortable Severus, tugging at his green tie and looking as if he'd rather be stark naked than clad in his tuxedo. "But it wasn't my idea. I'll be back to fetch you in five minutes." And with that, she walked out of the door and down the hall.

Severus stepped into the room and gave her a nervous once-over. "You look ... erm ..."

"You can say it," she said with a sigh. "I look like a giant meringue."

"Oh, no," he exclaimed, sounding startled. "You look fine. That is to say ..."

Hermione almost laughed. "Don't worry about it, Severus. I hate my dress, too. No individual person should ever be wearing this much lace."

"Or sleeves that are that puffed," he agreed, something like relief in his eyes. "Are you ready, then?"

She flashed him a bright grin and kissed his cheek. "The Fiji mermaid."

He kissed her lips. "Indeed."

-- -- -- -- --

"Oh, no!" Ginny cried, racing back through the hallway. "They're gone! Harry, they're gone!"

Harry looked up from Draco's tie. "What?" he asked.

"Hermione and Professor Snape," she exclaimed. "I left them alone for five minutes, and when I went back in ..." She held up a bit of netting -- Harry recognized it as Hermione's veil.

"Shit, they've buggered off," Draco breathed, tie forgotten.

"Mum is going to kill me," she groaned, letting the veil drop to the floor.

Harry furrowed his brow. "Maybe," he began slowly. "Maybe they've just popped away for a bit and they'll be back before the wedding actually starts."

Rolling his eyes, Draco gave him a withering look. "Where did they go, Harry? Diagon Alley for a cuppa, perhaps?"

"I don't know," he said lamely. "But ..."

"The question is," Draco continued over Harry's stammerings, "what do we do about it. On the one hand, we could rush after them and drag them back to the altar. After all, they have more or less agreed to the wedding. But on the other hand, they did run off."

"We don't know that for certain," Harry said in a firm voice.

"Oh, all right," he said. "Just for Mr. Romantic Sensibilities over here -- if they haven't run off, maybe someone's snatched them or something."

Something in Harry's gut twisted. He hadn't even considered that as a possibility. "Damn, Draco, what if someone has?"

"Really, Harry," he scoffed.

"No, honestly," he said, mind spinning. "Think about it. Hermione and Snape are probably Albus' top team -- they've put away more Death Eaters and Dark creatures than the rest of us combined. They're a monumental target. And it's not as if any of us have been keeping mum about the wedding ceremony."

"Maybe --" Draco began.

A loud knock at the door cut him off. "Severus?" Molly said quietly. "Harry, Draco? We're ready for you up at the altar, now."

"God damn it," Harry said heavily, twisting the doorknob with no small amount of violence.

"Oh, good," Molly said as soon as the door opened, bustling in. "Ginny, here you are. I've been looking all over for you. Run and fetch Hermione -- she's only got about five more minutes herself."

"Erm, Mum," Ginny started to say.

Molly looked around the room. "Where has Severus gotten to, anyway? Off in the loo?"

"Mrs. Weasley?" Draco tried.

"You boys should have made him go earlier," she continued. "We're going to be off to a late start if he doesn't --"

Harry laid his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. "Molly," he said firmly, loudly.

She blinked. "Yes, Harry, dear?"

"Molly, we need you to go fetch Albus."

Still blinking, her face only registered confusion. "Albus? But, Harry, he's up on the --"

"It doesn't matter," he told her. "We need to speak with him. It's a matter of great urgency."

Something clicked behind her eyes. "Oh, sweet Merlin," she said frantically. "Has Severus taken off? Oh, that wretched boy ... how could he do that to our Hermione? Don't you worry, boys -- I'll have Albus march right down and bring him back. He loves her, and he just needs a little --"

"No, Mrs. Weasley," Draco interrupted, attempting to be earnest. "It's both of them. They're both missing."

Harry wanted to clobber his lover. In less than ten words, he'd just taken Molly's anxiety and ratcheted it up into full-blown hysteria.

"Oh, no!" she cried, eyes widening. Before anyone could gasp, let alone speak, Molly lifted up the hem of her robe and dashed out of the room. Exchanging a glance, Ginny and Harry were immediately on her heels. He assumed that Draco would follow but didn't have enough time to ensure it.

They followed her down the hallway and into the sanctuary. "Please," Harry whispered to himself. "Please don't --"

"Oh, Albus," Molly nearly wailed, halfway to the altar by this point. "Albus, they've gone!"

The sanctuary was instantly filled with mutterings and exclamations. Albus looked up from his book. "What?" he asked.

"Young Draco said that Severus and Hermione have ... disappeared," she said, a tear running down her cheek.

"What did I miss?" Draco asked quietly in Harry's ear, suddenly appearing behind him, only panting slightly. "Anything interesting?"

"I think Molly's going to have an apoplectic fit," he murmured back.

"What?" Albus was repeating dumbly. "Gone? How?"

"We don't know," Ginny had the presence of mind to say, cutting off her mother. "But Harry said that --"

"Look!" Ron cried from one of the pews. "Up by the windows over there!"

A small owl was hovering in the church rafters. As soon as Ron pointed in its direction, it glided down and dropped a small, red envelope into Albus' hands.

"Well ...?" Harry asked.

He turned it over and over. "It's a Howler," he said.

"What're you waiting for?" Draco asked, impatience causing his voice to grate irritably. "Open it."

Harry wondered what it could hold as Albus lifted the seal with visible apprehension. Ransom demands? Death threats?

"Good afternoon to you all," Hermione's voice boomed from the envelope, magnified a hundred times. "Thank you for attending our wedding ceremony. In case you may not have noticed already, Severus and I are notably absent."

"They bloody well ought to have noticed," Severus' voice said in the background, magnified only slightly less than hers. "It's only our wedding, after all."

"Hush," Hermione's Howler voice admonished, "I won the coin toss, so I get to do the Howler."

Harry was absolutely shocked when Severus' voice took on a sulky quality. "Bet you used a weighted coin." Draco sniggered in his ear and a few other brave ripples of laughter ran through the crowd.

"Anyway," the Howler continued impatiently, "we just wanted to let you know that no harm has come to us, that we're absent of our own free will, and all that."

"Besides," Severus' Howler voice cut in, sounding decidedly snide, "little Miss Know-It-All wanted to share her brilliant plan with the world."

"I take back everything kind I've ever said about you," Hermione's voice rumbled, echoing through the room. "Anyway ... I've got to say, George Weasley gave me the idea on this one."

George, sitting in the fifth pew from the front of the room, looked completely baffled. That did not stop Molly, however, from striding over and giving him a firm smack across the cheek. "This is all your fault," she said furiously. "I can't believe --"

"Although not directly," the Howler continued, "so he's not to blame, Molly."

At least Molly blushed at that.

"But many years ago, George asked me to proofread an essay he'd written for Muggle Studies. A biographical thing on PT Barnum, a famous Muggle who founded one of the earlier American traveling circuses. Anyway, Barnum enjoyed pulling hoaxes on his customers -- 'a sucker is born every minute,' after all -- and one of his most famous, most successful hoaxes was the Fiji mermaid."

"Wait a minute ..." Draco said slowly. "Didn't Severus ..."

"Hush," Harry hissed.

"The Fiji mermaid was purported to be a real mummified mermaid, and Barnum marketed it as such. But it was quite clear upon viewing the specimen that the Fiji mermaid was nothing more than a mummified monkey sewed to the bottom half of an equally mummified fish," Hermione continued.

There were a few noises of disgust throughout the room, but Harry found himself unwittingly interested in the tale.

"It was obviously, then, a spectacularly terrible hoax. But the beautiful part of Barnum's scheme was that his audience continued to pay to see the thing. He went 'round America with this awful thing, extolling the wonders of the Fiji mermaid, and people would actually pay good money to get a look at this clear fake. The moral that I took from the Fiji mermaid, then, was that the best hiding place is quite often in plain sight. If you make the hoax obvious enough, no one will ever believe that it's actually a hoax. And therein lies the perfect double blind.

"So," Hermione's Howler voice said, "Severus and I agreed to get married. And rather than fight all of you on our terms, we decided very early on that we would simply allow you to plan the wedding you wanted, while making alternate plans of our own. Thank you for coming to our wedding -- everything's been paid for, so please, enjoy the party, and be assured that you have our blessings to do so. Severus and I will indeed be marrying later today, on our own terms."

"That is to say," Severus' Howler voice interrupted, "quiet, child-free, and nowhere within a five thousand mile radius of anyone we know."

"Severus," she snapped. "Anyway, we just wanted to let you know that everything was all right and that all of your plans won't go entirely to waste. Have a good time and we'll see you all when we get back after our honeymoon."

"Which, incidentally, Albus," Severus said, "will be lasting a month instead of two weeks."

And with that, the Howler disintegrated into a pile of ash at Albus' feet. The room was dead quiet.

"There," Draco said, nudging a stunned Harry, "that's a hundred Galleons you owe me."

Crossly, Harry folded his arms across his chest. "I do not," he said. "You bet that they wouldn't get married. And Hermione clearly said that they were doing so."

"Incorrect," he countered. "Our wager was that Hermione and Severus would go through with this wedding, which they obviously aren't. So, pay up, lover."

"Damn it," Harry mumbled, digging around in his pockets. Finally, his fingers closed around the little bag he'd been certain he wouldn't need today, and he tossed it into Draco's outstretched hand. "Are you happy, now?"

"Immensely," Draco said with a wide grin. "Not only did I win the bet, but we get to go to a party."

"But ..." Ginny said into the silence. "We're going to miss their wedding."

Draco shrugged. "Seen one wedding, seen 'em all. Besides, Uncle Sev is always such a drag at parties. He and Hermione just sit in a corner while he glowers at everyone. This way, you see, we'll be able to celebrate him without his actual presence."

"You know," Harry said, leaning into Draco slightly, "I ought to be somewhat offended by that, but somehow, I'm not."

"That's because you know that they splurged and bought us some very nice champagne." He smiled and turned to a still rather bewildered Molly. "Mrs. Weasley, where was the reception going to take place again?"

-- -- -- -- --

"I can't believe it worked," Severus said, twirling a little paper umbrella in his hand pensively.

Hermione tossed an ice cube at him. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, dear."

"That wasn't entirely what I meant," he replied defensively. "Although I will say that you yourself have admitted that your mad little schemes don't always turn out for the best."

"Hoisted by my own petard," she agreed, saluting him with her mai tai. "But we're married now -- you're not allowed to say such critical things. I'm supposed to have your unwavering support."

"Then you're never allowed to say anything untoward about my teaching methods ever again," he countered with a sly smirk. "May I taste your drink?"

"Order your own," she said loftily.

"Oh, I think not." His voice was stern and his expression dark. "After all, now your worldly goods are mine as well ..."

She shrieked as he pounced, straddling her hips with his knees and wrapping his hands around the stem of her glass. Grinning, Severus dipped his head and took a sip of her drink before she could pull it away. "Severus!" she exclaimed.

"What?" he asked innocently. "A little sweet for my tastes, but all in all ..."

"You're in an awfully playful mood," she said, reaching out a hand to play with the drawstring on his swimming trunks.

Shrugging, Severus offered her a lazy grin, tugging on one of the shoulder straps on her suit. "I'm newly wed, on my honeymoon, stealing my wife's frou-frou cocktail. If this isn't the time for it, I don't know when is."

With a small sigh, she admitted defeat, settling her other hand comfortably on his bare chest and enjoying the warmth of his skin against hers. "It is lovely here, isn't it?"

"Ironic choice, really," he said, bending down to kiss her slowly. "But that's what I get for leaving the arrangements to you."

"What, you don't like Fiji?" she asked with a smirk. "If I'd known that isolated beaches and perpetual sunshine weren't your cup of tea, I could easily have booked us a hotel room in Siberia."

He kissed her again, until she began to feel like a heroine in a romance novel -- her toes were not far off from curling. "They might come looking for us here," he said once his lips were free.

"They know better," she replied.

Another kiss. "I just ..." he said, grimacing. "I feel like the other shoe is getting ready to drop somehow. It just can't be this easy."

"What do you mean?"

Severus' hands were comforting on Hermione's shoulders. "Are you ... pregnant or something?"

She blinked. "Not to my knowledge. Would that be a shoe dropping?"

"Well ... not exactly," he hedged. "But ... look, Hermione, we just planned and executed the literal wedding of our dreams, circumventing at least two of the more powerful wizards in the world and Molly Weasley to boot. I can't believe that there's not some karmic cancellation that needs to occur. Is it monsoon season here?"

"I don't ... no. Severus, why do you insist in looking for a bad side in all of this?" she asked, exasperated.

His face fell a bit. "I'm sorry," he said eventually. "You're right. We should just enjoy this, because four weeks from now, we'll be back in the dungeons in the middle of it all over again."

"Exactly." She gave him a little kiss, to let him know that all was forgiven, and sat her mai tai carefully on the small table beside her chair, not wanting it to get spilled as she pulled Severus even closer.

Hermione let out a quiet moan as his tongue began doing wonderful things to the side of her neck. Something wet fell onto her forehead, but she paid it very little attention as his mouth continued to drift pleasantly downward.

Another wet drop. And a third. And a fourth. "Say ..." Severus mumbled into the hollow between her breasts. "Did you just feel ...?"

As the rain began pouring down, drenching them both, Hermione glared at Severus.

"I told you --"

"Don't," she snapped, pushing him off her lounge chair. "Don't say it."

FINIS