Epilogue II
Ardnarea Castle and Guesthouse.
Severus stood in the centre of the room and felt a suffocating sensation around his chest. Alone with the gentle folds of his wedding attire, he felt vulnerable and unable to see a way through the day. How could a few simple colours come to symbolise so much. It was as if by submerging his body in the white and blue he would lose all identity, become the conventional mockery of himself that others wanted him to be. What would Maeve wish for? Everyone kept telling him that this was for the bride as if they knew what she would want from him. Surely he knew best what Maeve would want, and she wouldn’t wish for him to spend the day in uncomfortable clothes that he hadn’t chosen? In his view a wedding should be about the truth between a man and a woman, not this pandering to everyone’s sense of social occasion.
Opening the solid door of the wardrobe he eyed his own clothes with relief. Black mingled with black in a cushion of comforting uniformity and he placed a fond hand on the hanger that contained his most well cut pair of trousers. Would Maeve care if he wore that intolerable blue? Would she even know what he had been supposed to wear? And he knew, with a sureness borne of the firm knowledge of another soul, that Maeve wouldn’t mind what he was wearing. She wouldn’t give a damn about appearances or the shade of blue that was so artfully designed to go with her dress.
With a liberating tug, Severus pulled the black trousers from the wardrobe and pulled them over his long legs. The blue trousers sagged redundantly on their hanger as he glared at them with defiance. There would be no blue wedding day, no matter what had been decided for him. He allowed the linen of the shirt to slide over his arms as a concession to Maeve’s dress. He could cope with a little excess fabric and that hideous frill down the front if it meant no blue. If he could just get through this interminable distance between himself and the altar he would emerge on the other side of this nightmarish day with his mind intact. As he tucked the folds of linen into the waistband of the trousers he heard the trooping of steps along the corridor and he waited for the knock at his door that must surely come.
The silence that drifted between the knock and his reply was heavy with anticipation but as he said a laborious ‘enter’ the weight was dispelled and revealed an embarrassed Harry behind the wooden door.
“We wondered where you were,” Harry said uncomfortably, as he finally accepted the burden of being best man.
“Did Lupin send you?” Severus asked, taking in the fact that Harry had succumbed to blue robes, although these were darker than his own had been.
“No, Professor Dumbledore did. He seemed to think we needed to arrive together.” Harry agreed with Dumbledore, painful though the prospect was, but he managed to place a begrudging edge in his speech that made Severus sympathetic to the fact they were both in the same thorny position.
“Very well.” He settled his wand in between the folds of his shirt and walked towards Harry. “I suppose we had better go. You don’t mind if we walk, do you?”
“I don’t think we have the time, and, erm… shouldn’t you be getting dressed first?” Harry blinked at Severus in puzzlement. “You can’t get married like that.” He’d never seen Severus look quite so “ loose “ and it was rather unsettling. In fact the closer Harry regarded his former teacher he couldn’t help but notice there was a defiant, more comfortable, look to him. The shirt suited him and gave his face a less sallow cast; his eyes were not so cold beneath the curtain of shining hair.
“Do you honestly think, Potter, that I’m going to wear blue?” The confidence in Severus’ voice made Harry wonder how he could ever have thought of Severus in anything other than black. “I conceded to have you as my best man” “ the words best man were said with such irony that it was excruciating “ “ I think that is sufficient torture for one day, without compounding it with someone’s eccentric idea of style.”
“I didn’t ask to be your best bloody man, you know!” Harry said with vehemence. “I agreed because Maeve asked me to do it. I would rather stick squid tentacles in my eyes than stand next to you for more than a few seconds. But at least I can swallow my pride long enough to get through this. Remus was right; you are worse than a kid.”
Severus bridled at the idea that Remus had related their little spat to others. He was about to issue the usual snapped detention when he reminded himself that they were not at school and therefore Potter was outside his absolute control. Nevertheless, there was still a limit to what Severus would take from the boy.
“Insolent as ever, Potter, just like…”
“…Like my dad. You’re like a broken record. I just want to get this over with, so can we go? If we’re going to walk then we need to go now or we’ll never make it on time. I’ll manage to stay silent if you do me a favour and keep quiet too.” Harry had such a look of uncaring maturity on his face that Severus was lost for words for a moment. But he couldn’t argue with the prospect of a silent walk across to the castle. It was this, and this alone, that stopped Severus from taking the disagreement any further as he stepped out of the room, waiting for Harry to follow suit.
“I think we have an agreement,” Severus said in a low, cold voice.
“Good.” Harry couldn’t resist venting a little of his anger on the door as he crashed it shut behind them.
Ardnarea Castle was technically a ruin. The jagged teeth of the remaining walls climbed into the sky with trepidation. They looked as if one good strong gust of wind would bring them cascading down into the central hall. What had once been the lower walls of the courtyard had long since crumbled into the earth and only a slight rise in the grass showed where fortifications once stood, keeping the inhabitants of the castle safe within a solid boundary.
The chapel, however, was surprisingly intact. It was a building of considerable size that crouched beside the more impressive castle, shadowed by the once magnificent grey walls. The wide archway that formed the entrance was normally bare, its weathered stone forming a frame for the oak door that had once hung there but which had long since rotted back into the earth. Now it was covered by two immature birch trees that had been placed on either side and magically enticed up and around, to form a more natural looking opening. The grass surrounding the chapel was peppered with wildflowers, which nodded in the gentle breeze that tempered the heat of the sun and made the atmosphere very pleasant.
As the first guests arrived they stepped in from the bright sunshine and peered into the relative gloom of the chapel. As soon as their eyes had adjusted to the duller illumination there were gasps of delight at the appearance of the interior. Ivy had been enchanted up each stone column and was dotted with multitudes of white campion. The pew ends exploded with vivid blue cornflowers and cowslips, while the walls had been left bare. Just a few glittering candles added to the natural light that filtered through the stained glass windows. Music drifted down from the ceiling, the delicate harp strings invisible and yet everywhere as the ethereal sound filled the chapel. At either side of the altar water cascaded from enchanted waterfalls that brought the sound of nature indoors and provided a focal point for the ceremony. Two weeping willow trees had sprung magically from the floor. Soaring to the ceiling they fell back on themselves and gave a canopy under which the bride and groom could stand.
Molly was the first to blink away a tear as she waited for Fred and George to spring into action and do their ushering.
“It’s so beautiful. I’m amazed that Professor Dumbledore came up with something so…”
“Tasteful, Mum?” George supplied helpfully.
“Well,” Molly blushed slightly. “Perhaps not so extravagant would be a better way of putting it.”
“Makes you wonder,” Fred said enigmatically as he took her arm and steered her towards her pew. Charlie, Arthur, Ron and Ginny all followed obediently as Arthur showed interest in the interior of the Muggle building.
“Fascinating,” he murmured, as he tried to work out what the honesty box was for. He shook it and was rewarded with the rattle of money left over from another point in time. “I wonder what’s in it?”
“Father, please get to your seat or we’ll give it to someone else,” George said. “I’m sure Mum will be happy sitting next to Remus for the ceremony.” The two Weasleys were discharging their duties with a seriousness that was unusual for them, and it made Molly wonder what they had already been up to.
“Yes, yes,” Arthur said, replacing the honesty box while casting longing looks at what was left of the old organ pipes.
The rapid thudding of books hitting the floor made everyone turn to see Tonks trying to prevent an avalanche. She had knocked over the little bookshelf that contained the hymnals and was trying to stop any more from falling to the floor. She grinned apologetically at Professor Sprout, who was helping pick them up.
“Why are we in a Muggle church?” one of the fourth years asked Neville in a hushed voice. She had never been in a Muggle building before and felt slightly awkward.
“No idea,” Neville said. “Perhaps they wanted this wedding to be a little different. They sing at Muggle weddings, you know.”
The girl looked horrified at the prospect of having to sing and immediately scuttled along the pew that Fred obligingly directed her to.
Neville was about to follow her when Fred tutted loudly. “And where do you think you’re going, Mr. Longbottom?”
“My seat,” Neville replied, still a little intimidated by the bombastic quality of the two Weasley boys.
“Your seat is at the front, with Harry and us.”
“And Snape,” Neville said, his face turning ashen.
“Well, yes. But I think Sevvy will have other things on his mind. He won’t be tormenting you, Neville,” Fred said with a grin.
Neville loped off to the front of the church, admiration for the décor overriding his natural apprehension of Professor Snape. Neville had never been to a wedding before ” well, not one that mattered anyway. He remembered some distant cousin’s wedding but that had been a cold, wet wizard affair deep in a forest somewhere in Hampshire. He’d had soggy feet for the whole service, and it had been a long one with lots of wizard pledges and stuff. They had burned smelly herbs too, made the whole forest reek of dried moss and meadowsweet. Neville had read something about Muggle weddings and the recent fashion for them in the wizarding world. They were all the rage in London, apparently, and there had even been stories of real Muggle vicars being enchanted into taking services and then having memory charms placed on them. Neville thought that was very underhanded and hoped there wouldn’t be a befuddled Muggle at this service.
He sat down on the empty pew and watched the waterfalls with fascination. As he reached down to adjust his new shoes, which had been nipping at his ankles all through the morning, he was startled by the spider that shot out from its hiding place under his seat. Neville was sure there must be something good about a spider at a wedding. Superstitions were something that both wizards and Muggles shared and he felt that this was a good omen. More worrying was the presence of four ravens that sat on the heavily adorned gold Celtic cross that occupied the left corner along with the tumultuous waterfall. He was sure that wasn’t a good omen. Maybe the spider and the ravens would cancel each other out.
Kingsley hovered in the doorway as the rest of the guests tumbled through. He wasn’t too worried but he wasn’t about to let his guard down, not for a second. Dumbledore was the last of the guests to walk through the door and he nodded to the stiff-backed man in recognition of the job Kinglsey had taken on.
“There will be no trouble from Voldemort,” Dumbledore said. “There will be no bravery necessary today. Enjoy the occasion, Kinglsey.”
“All the same,” he replied, unconvinced. “I will keep an eye out. Where is the groom?”
“I don’t know.” Dumbledore glanced at the sun and noted the time. “He will be here with time enough to spare.”
“You sound very sure. Severus Snape has never seemed entirely reliable given his history.”
Dumbledore looked sharply at Kingsley and the other man shrank just a little.
“Severus Snape has never yet let me down. I have complete confidence in his commitment to Maeve O’Malley and to this observance.” The look of profound knowledge that Dumbledore gave Kingsley dispelled any doubt and he returned to his vigil by the door.
Neville was grateful for Dumbledore’s presence on the pew beside him. It was strange how these celebrations removed the usual barriers and saw him sitting beside the headmaster of Hogwarts as an equal. He was still worried about the ravens though and voiced his concerns to the old wizard.
“They belong to Maeve,” Dumbledore said in a quiet voice. “They lived at her ancestral home, before it was lost, and have been roaming ever since. It is only natural they would focus on this point and arrive to offer their allegiance. They are a powerful natural ally and, despite their portentous nature, are ones I would not mind having myself.”
“And spiders?” Neville asked.
Dumbledore turned to him with questioning eyes. “Spiders?”
“Are spiders good omens?”
“Have you seen one here?”
“Yes, it was under my seat and scurried off when I bent down. I thought it felt like a good omen.”
Dumbledore sat back in his seat and faced forwards with a smile fixed to his face.
“I’m generally of the opinion that spiders are indeed a good omen, Neville. Especially this particular one.”
And Neville had to be content with this cryptic explanation as the headmaster relaxed into the mood of the event.
“I can’t believe we’re walking,” Harry said, breaking his promise to be silent. The irritation of the hot sun was proving too much for him as sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He could only just see the tips of the castle walls and from their position it looked like they had miles to go. Severus, on the other hand, seemed perfectly cool and collected, as his long legs took in the undulating ground.
“Complaining, Potter?”
“I’m just saying.” Harry gave him a poisonous look. “It’s a hot day to be walking.”
“But you can’t Apparate, so that rules that out. Everyone else walked.”
“Did they? I thought they took a Portkey?”
“It’s not even a mile away,” Severus said with frustration. “ Oh, but I forget, I’m talking to the famous Harry Potter, who thinks he is better than everyone else.”
“I’m hot,” he repeated, his voice dull with the strain of the heat. There was no breeze in this dip of land and the air had pooled in a sticky cloud around them.
“Get used to it,” Severus said, unsympathetically.
“Are you really so bitter and full of hatred that you can’t even show a bit of consideration?” Harry had a face that could have chased the sun out of the sky. “Do you always have to be nasty?”
“No, I don’t have to be. I choose to be.”
“I hate you,” Harry said. The words themselves would not normally have pierced Severus’ well-oiled armour but there was something in the depth of them that finally got through.
“Why?” He stopped walking a few seconds before his billowing shirt did. “Why do you hate me? Is it because I am the only one not prepared to see beyond the famous Harry Potter? Is it because you do not like being treated as one of the rest?” Severus looked so superior that, for a moment, Harry wanted to pound his supercilious face with his balled fists.
“It’s because you have never treated me in a normal way. You’ve made me the famous Harry Potter. I was just a stupid kid when I got to Hogwarts, pleased to know that my life wasn’t always going to be hell with the Dursleys. All I wanted was to be ordinary and enjoy what life had given me. But you, you couldn’t let it be, could you? You wanted to find an outlet for your hatred of my dad and Sirius. You looked at me and saw the perfect opportunity. You took revenge on me for what my dad did, and what he did was wrong! I’m not my dad! I would never have done those things to you.”
Severus was about to interrupt with his usual silencing tactics but Harry would not be silenced.
“I hated what I saw in that Pensieve. I was wrong to look. I’ve done lots of things that are wrong and foolish but I never intentionally set out to hurt anyone. You, though, you hurt everyone. Your class could be one of the best in school but your presence means people are too scared to learn. I could have been really good at Potions ” Maeve has shown me that ” and Neville, Neville is brilliant and you just terrify him. Do you like terrifying people? Is it a throwback to your Death Eater days? Snivellus can’t terrorise grown ups any more, so he does it to the children.”
Perhaps Harry realised he had gone too far or perhaps it was the look of desperate regret on Severus’ face at the mention of Death Eaters that finally brought his rant to an end. Possibly it was the sudden sting of the bee as it penetrated his hand, causing him to wince with pain as the creature writhed in death.
Severus moved his hand quickly and removed the dying insect from Harry’s flesh before turning away and continuing his walk. His black eyes focused on the horizon while his brain contemplated the notion that he had been wrong. The dark, nagging possibility that he should not have judged the son because of the father was echoing through a mind still filled with what his own father had done. Had Maeve judged him in the same way that he had judged Harry Potter then he would have been dead by her wand. The sun warmed his face and he remembered Lugh Lamfada’s words, ‘my son.’
“Harry.” The name felt unnatural when spoken alone. Harry stopped rubbing his hand and looked towards the formidable man who was regarding him with none of the hatred he was used to. “I’m sorry.”
With those unbelievable words Severus Snape once again turned from Harry and continued his walk. As far as he was concerned he had now discharged his guilt and spoken words he ever thought he could. What Potter did with them was entirely up to him, but there would be no repetition of the apology and there would be change in his teaching methods. But there was genuine contrition in Severus Snape, brought about by the woman he was about to marry. Without her what world would he still inhabit?
The chapel fell silent as an elderly wizard in long green robes tripped over the entrance and gave them a cheery wave.
“Dia daoibh,” he said jovially.
Everyone looked at each other dubiously but it was the redheaded girl whom no one had really been introduced to that piped up.
“Dia is muire daoibh.” She immediately blushed at the sudden attention of the others and wished she had not spoken. She felt like an outsider here anyway and this just confirmed it.
“Ah, right so, we have a foreign gathering,” he said in an impenetrable Irish accent that was much heavier than anything the English congregation were used to. “Well sure and you’ll be fine. Just sing when I tell you to and we’ll get along just grand. We'll make a fine Ceilidh of this!”
Molly looked at Arthur, who shrugged his incomprehension.
“I got something about singing,” he whispered.
“You did?” She looked surprised. “ I thought he said something about swinging.”
“Definitely singing,” Arthur said confidently.
“So, where are the bride and groom?” the Irish official asked as he worked his way to the head of the chapel, admiring the willows as he did so. “Shouldn’t the groom at least be here?”
Molly gave Arthur a dig in the ribs as she decided he was to be the official translator. “Something about the room,” she hissed. “Perhaps he’s angling after an invite to the reception?”
“Arthur Weasley,” Arthur said, as he stood up and squeezed out of the pew. He held out his hand to be shaken and the other man immediately grasped it warmly.
“Are they?” he asked.
“What?” Arthur looked perplexed.
“Weasels, are they awful?”
“No, no... A R T H U R W E…”
“Ach!” the man roared with laughter and thumped Arthur on the back. “Just my wee joke. I’m Seamus Finnegan Flaherty O’Connor McAirt. You can call me Seamus Finnegan Flaherty O’Connor for short.”
“Pleased to meet you Mr… erm…Seamus Fingal O’Con…”
There was another round slap on the back and a belly laugh that resulted in a bout of coughing. “Sure, no... I’m teasing you, so I am. Call me Finn. I'll not have any standing on ceremony. Sure, I'm not the bishop of Armagh!”
“Ahh, well, Finn…” Arthur was mildly bemused but prepared to enter into the spirit of things. “Pleased to meet you. Groom’s on his way.”
“Excellent. An bhfuil snamh agat?”
“I don’t speak…well… whatever that is.” Arthur was regretting his position as chief interpreter. It was bad enough trying to decipher the man’s English without him throwing in this baffling growl of a language as well.
“Forgive my lapses,” Finn said, with another clap on the shoulders that knocked the breath out of Arthur. “Do you swim? The swimming is great in the bay away over on the coast. You should try it.”
Arthur looked increasingly mystified by the subject matter and began to back away from the slightly unhinged-looking Finn, who seemed to take no offence. Fortunately for them both attention was diverted by the arrival of Severus, who was closely followed by a subdued Harry.
If the assembled company were surprised to see a Severus Snape looking almost attractive they didn’t show it. There were the occasional gasps from the students as the shirted teacher strode to the front pew, his hair gliding along in sublime accompaniment. He sat down next to Dumbledore on the front pew as Harry brought up the rear. If Dumbledore was surprised to see him without the blue robes he gave no sign and merely patted his arm in a fatherly gesture. Harry sat next to Neville, still dumfounded by the apology and unwilling to engage in conversation with anyone. In his hand he clutched the two rings that Severus had given him just before they entered the chapel. They were warm in his palm and he couldn’t help sneaking glimpses at their perfection.
“Sure, and you would be the groom,” Finn said, approaching Severus and winking. “She’s an attractive girl, I’m sure.”
Severus gave the man a cold look and shook his head.
“I have no idea what you are saying but I’ll agree with it for the sake of expediency.”
“Aye well, you English never were the best at understanding others. Sure, just nod in the right place and we’ll be fine.”
Severus nodded curtly, although he still had no idea what the man was saying.
As the harp music continued to play the assembled company began to fidget in anticipation of the arrival of the bride. The ravens’ attention was diverted towards the doorway by a movement that their sharp eyes were the first to pick up. Professor McGonagal stepped across the threshold with a very pretty Felicia, who was now wearing green watered silk and a satisfied expression. As they moved towards the aisle she sought out Remus, who was waiting for Maeve at the near end of the aisle, and gave him a wink, which flustered him beyond all measure. The harp playing hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of itself and it was instantly replaced by the more jaunty tones of a fiddle, which played a light jig in eager anticipation of the bride’s entrance.
Severus and Harry both rose and walked towards a beckoning Finn. The official’s white hair was now wilder than it had been when he first walked through the door and Severus wasn’t sure but he thought he caught a trace of whiskey on the old man’s breath. With their backs to the doorway they did not see Maeve step into the chapel with Hermione just a pace behind her. The music slowed to a haunting tune that carried with it all the history of the land they stood upon. Maeve walked in splendour as she placed her firm feet on the stone floor of the aisle. This was her moment, a moment she could never have dreamed would happen. At the far end of the church she could see the black-capped head of her lover and her heart leapt for him beneath the confines of her linen. Remus had joined her and offered her his arm. He bent his head and kissed her on the cheek, the kiss of a brother. She slipped her bare arm into his and felt the warmth of him beside her, giving her even more confidence as they began the march towards her future. A small disturbance at the back of the church made them look round and she watched as a dark-haired young woman stepped softly into the church, as if afraid of drawing attention to herself. She slipped into the back pew and smiled before dipping her head into her chest.
Maeve returned her attention to Severus and wondered if he would look around. It was said to be bad luck and she couldn’t help her smile as she wondered if he would challenge providence. As they closed the difference between them he did not turn and she was grateful for this. She wondered who had chosen his wedding outfit. From the rear she could already see that his hair, once so lank, was now shining and bright. The tantalising shape of his body beneath those tight trousers and flowing shirt made her more than just a little excited. Looking straight ahead she passed beneath the shadow of the willows and felt her arm tightened in Remus’ grip. She was abreast of Severus now and could smell his understated scent. She smiled involuntarily at her refusal to look at him until the ministry official spoke and she could sense the same stoicism form him.
“Well, aren’t you a lovely,” Finn said appreciatively. “Magnificent couple you make. Do we have the rings?”
Harry leapt forward and held out his hand, the two golden bands reflecting the beauty of the setting back at Finn. He squinted at them for a moment, something stirring in his memory, before looking back towards the bride and groom before him.
“Well now, who’s going to hand over this little gem to her future husband?”
“That would be me,” Remus said, looking for the first time at Severus and wondering why he wasn’t wearing his correct outfit. As Severus turned to look at Maeve, Remus felt hopelessly inadequate in the face of such honest love. If he lived two hundred years he didn’t think he could begin to find that sort of bond and it wounded him. If circumstances had been different, if Severus had not been here… It was with regret for himself and happiness for the bride that he relinquished his hold on her arm and allowed her to stand independently next to her groom.
Maeve could never have believed Severus would look so attractive as he did at this moment. She had never placed much emphasis on his physical appearance, which was just as well really, but now, in this light and wearing those clothes he looked irresistible. She raised her hand and touched his face, allowing her fingers to linger slightly as she wordlessly translated her love into action.
“Now, shall we begin,” Finn said, his voice suddenly clear and understandable. A shiver ran through the front pews and Neville mentally prepared himself for a long slog.
“Love offers nothing but itself and takes nothing in return,” he began. “It does not possess nor does it require possession for all love needs to exist is itself. Love requires nothing to sustain itself but the open hearts of two people. In these two people love has found a home, a place to inhabit, unfettered by conditions. Within this home love has created a breach, something that cannot be returned to what it was, and long may the breach continue.” He paused and looked at the light in the woman’s eyes. She did not need fine words to be reassured of her love and yet she was prepared to endure them for this man. “Love will make you bleed for each other, and you will do so joyfully, because in doing so you will merge and become one. You were born to be one with each other and yet you will remain apart, separated by the bond of your love. As you shared the same clay before you were born so you will return to that good earth and your souls will never be parted.”
Severus turned to Maeve; he was no longer hearing the man’s words. Cutting through the sermon he took her face in his hands and she shook at his touch. Finn was thrown by the departure from the normal procedure and was about to say something but Severus beat him to it.
“I will take nothing from you but your love, despite what others might think,” he said quietly. “You were the first, and only, person to show me the value of being with another. We have seen too much that should have destroyed us and yet here we are. I ask nothing more than to be able to continue to be with you. This wedding was taken from us and turned into a performance but I will not be an actor dressed in strange clothes. I don’t need tricks and sham outfits to show you I love you.”
Finn coughed loudly to try and regain control of the service but it was already beyond him as Maeve opened her mouth to speak.
“I loved you from the moment I first saw you, standing by the fountain in the Hogwarts courtyard. In all these years I have never had the heart for anyone else but you. You slept with me down the empty years at Abbeylara and woke with me in the morning. It was with pleasure I left my father’s house and came with you because I knew, in my soul, it would lead to this. I will never allow us to lose sight of one another again and I give myself to you willingly.”
Their words met in the air and the congregation sighed at the truth behind them. Remus bowed his head and felt sadness for what never would be.
“Well,” Finn said. “In that case, if you are not prepared to repeat the vows that had been written for you.” He reached for the two rings that Harry held out and taking the smaller one he offered it to Severus and the larger one he offered to Maeve. “You’d better pop them on, hadn’t you?”
With urgent fingers Maeve took Severus’ hand and slipped the ring that had been taken from her long dead brother onto his finger and he then replicated this movement with the gentler of the two rings. As the gold settled on Maeve’s finger she felt the floor shift and she swayed back on her heels. A burning sensation in her head made her close her eyes and she could see a figure, a male figure, tied to a post, his eyes watching her carefully. As she tried to open her eyes the figure smiled, his face a mixture of intense suffering and happiness for something, something that someone had done or said. Her eyes snapped open of their own accord and no one seemed to have noticed her momentary lapse of consciousness.
“Isn’t that just the greatest thing?” Finn said, with a wide toothless grin. “You’re wizard and wife. Enjoy yourselves! Oh, and you’d better have a kiss, just to seal the deal.”
With unashamed lust they drew together and with a soaring sense of pleasure their lips met as the guests watched over such a lovely moment. Molly allowed her tears to fall thick and fast as she recalled her own wedding day and Fred and George were suddenly glad they hadn’t pulled any pranks during the brief service. Neville was just relieved that the service had been so brief and was pleased to see the return of he spider, which sat on the front of his pew with unconcerned nonchalance.
As the bride and groom broke apart Finn smiled.
“That was the shortest wedding ceremony I ever did, never even let me get to the singing! But I think you couldn’t have waited, could you?”
“No, I don’t think we could,” Maeve giggled, stripped back to the excited schoolgirl she had once been. “And I’ve heard some of them sing.”
“You need to sign a parchment that has already been prepared and then I’ll be on my way. Welcome to the world of the Irish, big fella, it’s good to have you on board.” Finn delivered another of his rib-shaking thumps to Severus’ back making Severus scowl at the effrontery.
Maeve sat at the small table and felt her chest groan beneath her dress. Taking the quill that Finn held out to her she clutched Severus’ hand for a moment before putting ink to parchment and signing her new name. With Severus leaning over her she suddenly felt so sheltered by him that she wanted the feeling to last forever, but she knew it couldn’t. This summer would end soon enough and they would be back to the real world. She brushed these thoughts away as she made room for Severus to sit and sign his name to their contract.
Just five minutes later they emerged into the sunlight and found themselves instantly covered in the laughing confetti that Fred and George had brought up especially from their shop. It danced in the air before dropping onto them with loud, tinkling laughter that was infectious and soon had them all laughing. A young man immediately began ushering everyone into groups and pointing his camera at them. With hastily issued instructions to smile he began to record the event for posterity. Maeve glowed as she stood beneath the entangled birches; with Severus by her side doing the best he could to produce a smile that didn’t seem grotesquely forced. After several, increasingly frustrated, yells of ‘smile’ from the photographer he did manage to turn his mouth up slightly and the poor photographer knew he would have to make do with this feeble effort. What no one saw was the busily spinning spider that descended from the branches of the trees on a thin thread of silk, dangling in the air for a few moments before scurrying back up again into peaceful anonymity.
Once the photographs were taken, and Fred and George had been firmly told off for making faces behind Molly’s back in the group picture, they began to move across to the castle. The wedding feast was to follow immediately and had been laid out in the remains of the main hall, which for all its apparent fragility was good for another few hundred years yet. The bride and groom led the way, walking in a world of their own and yet firmly connected to what was going on around them.
“You know,” Severus said. “This is an awful lot of fuss just to get to sleep with you every night.”
“It’ll be worth it,” she grinned. “At least I think so.”
“I’m not saying it won’t be worth it, but it’s going to be a long afternoon,” he replied. “And there will be speeches.”
Severus groaned at the thought of the interminable speeches of Dumbledore and Remus. Maeve hated the speeches as much as anyone but she felt sure that they would keep it short in the hot afternoon.
“Don’t worry, there’s some fine Irish Firewhiskey to keep you going,” Maeve said, encircling his waist with her arm and pulling herself into the outline of his body. He felt her warmth through the linen, their flesh breathing together in the heat of the day.
“I suppose it won’t be too much to endure, given the company.” He laid his hand across her bare shoulder and returned her hug with some feeling.
Molly, who was right behind them, felt the tears pricking at her eyes again.
“Never thought I’d see him happy,” she said in a low voice to Arthur. “Who’d have thought we’d be here, like this?”
Arthur smiled at his wife’s sentimentality and silently took hold of her hand.
“I think they’re not the only one with cupid beating his wings in their direction.” Charlie had lost some of the bitterness that had enveloped him after Bill’s death and he was able to watch Remus laughing alongside Felicia with pleasure rather than regret. Life went on, for those who survived, and the dead wouldn’t want it any other way.
“And when will you find yourself a young lady?” Arthur asked with a smile.
“I don’t have time for young ladies,” Charlie replied. “I’m too busy and it wouldn’t be fair to them, not with…”
“Don’t say it,” Molly insisted. “Don’t mention anything about what’s waiting for us when we get back. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the day.”
“Yes, Mum, of course.”
Ginny trailed after Ron and Hermione, happy to be here but feeling a little bored all the same. Ron was looking somewhat lasciviously at Hermione’s rather vast expanse of bared flesh above the bodice of her dress and Ginny didn’t think Hermione had noticed, but when she did Ron would probably get told off for it. Ron was looking older and fitter. The ample Quidditch practice had made him more agile and she could understand it if Hermione found him attractive. Shame he was the same thick oaf when it came to understanding women. She gasped as she tripped over a thick tuft of grass, almost tumbling to the floor before strong hands grabbed her and set her back on her feet.
“You should watch yourself,” Harry said. “The ground is fairly uneven and those shoes are a bit… well… a bit….”
“I know,” she groaned, rubbing at her ankle. “If I’d have known I would be traipsing across fields I would have worn something flat.”
“You don’t need extra height, you’re perfectly tall enough as it is.”
Ginny gave him a withering look. It wasn’t about height, she thought, it was about looking slightly older and being one of the adults rather than one of the children. She watched as a first-year boy dangled a worm in a second-year girl’s face, causing screams of terror. Why would she want to be associated with that sort of behaviour?
“You look nice,” she said, looking at his robes closely for the first time. “That colour suits you.”
“Umm, thanks,” he said, wondering why Ginny was blushing just slightly. “How’s Dean?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “And I don’t want to know.”
“Trouble?”
“He’s a boy, that says it all.”
“I’m a boy!” Harry replied hotly.
“I know, but you’re, well you’re reliable… not like Dean.”
“I don’t know about reliable.” Harry looked doubtful, presumably forgetting his steadfastness as a best man.
“Well, I think you are.”
Before Harry could respond Neville had caught up with them, puffing slightly in the heat.
“That was great, wasn’t it?” he beamed. “So short too.”
“Yeah, I thought that,” Ginny said, looking away from Harry. “Weddings normally go on for ages.”
“And doesn’t Snape look different?” Neville said, prepared to be generous to the teacher now he had got through the service without being shouted at for something.
“Yeah, he does,” Ginny said, a look of disbelief on her face. “Scary, really. Imagine him actually looking clean!”
Their sniggers lasted all the way to the entrance of the castle and as they stepped inside they were impressed by the sight before them.
Two long tables stretched the length of the hall while one shorter cut across them both at the far end of the open space. The shorter table and one of the longer ones were set for a feast, with white plates gleaming beneath the naked sun. It was cool here though. Despite the burning heat, the temperature charmed into an acceptable level. Silver cutlery edged the plates and wine glasses refracted the daylight into rainbows of colour. Centrepieces dotted both tables; tiny fountains with miniature mermaids swimming through the water were interspersed with re-creations of unicorns, fashioned from glittering crystal with white roses at their feet. On the other longer table were gifts, artfully arranged in piles of gift-wrapped affection for the couple. There seemed to be some discussion between the bride and Dumbledore as the headmaster tried to get her to open the gifts immediately.
“Is that normal? Shouldn’t we wait until after the meal?” Maeve looked to Molly for confirmation and the teary woman nodded.
“I don’t think your guests would mind waiting a little while. Presents are much more pleasurable than food anyway,” Dumbledore winked, his sense of fun getting the better of him.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She turned to Severus and for the first time as a married woman, looked to her husband for guidance. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s one more thing to get out of the way,” he said gloomily. “If you want to open them I suggest you get on with it.”
As Maeve hesitated the general consensus of those surrounding them seemed to agree with Dumbledore.
“Go on, you know you want to,” Fred grinned.
“Well,” Maeve still hesitated.
“I think we would all like to see your face when you open them,” Remus said gently. “Go ahead.”
She gave in and picked up the first package that bore the legend ‘To Maeve and Severus, I think you will find these useful, with fondest regards, Albus.’
“Socks!” she grinned, as the delicate silver wrapping dissolved into the air. “How thoughtful, look, Severus.” She handed the darker pair across to Severus and he winced at the embroidered emblem that proclaimed ‘Wizard’s’ Maeve was showing everyone that fact that her pair said ‘Witches’’ and she giggled at the novelty of it. “At least we won’t get them mixed up,” she said, delightedly.
“I didn’t even know you wore socks,” Severus grumbled before muttering a thank you at Dumbledore.
“You can never have too many socks,” Dumbledore said wisely.
The next present was larger and a strange shape beneath its gaudy covering. The label said ‘something for your kitchen, hope you share many lovely meals together, Arthur and Molly. It was with great care that Maeve uncovered the set of pans, just managing to avoid dropping one of the heavy copper-bottomed implements on Severus’ foot. There were also several cookbooks that boasted they could turn even the most terrible cook into a magical one in just a few easy recipes.
Maeve gave Molly a grateful kiss. Cooking had never been her strong point and when they weren’t at Hogwarts she could certainly do with some help in that department.
“At least you won’t starve, Severus,” Remus said good-naturedly and Severus grunted something that might have been ‘good’.
The next was a small square package that simply said ‘With love, Remus’ and she tore it open quickly, gasping at the small object she held within her hand. The painting was small, just ten by five inches, and encased in a delicate gilt frame. A woman was held gently in the arms of a young man as they swept the dance floor, fronds of a great palm tree overlooking them. In the corner there was the tiniest scratch of a signature and she knew, without looking, that it would say Noirre, the greatest wizard painter of the last century
“I didn’t know there were others,” she said, looking at Remus with shining eyes. The larger copy of this picture hung in the Fitzwilliam Gallery for the Cultured Witch or Wizard in London.
“Nor did I until I became friendly with a man in Paris who showed me where to look,” Remus said with a smile. “I knew you had admired his work.”
Severus looked at it with distaste. Daubs of colour forming sentimental scenes were not his style but as the man in the painting raised his head he realised, with a start, that the man looked extraordinarily like himself. The woman removed her head from the man’s shoulder and he could see the image of Maeve looking back at him.
“Hmm, I suppose it has some appeal,” he said as Maeve leapt to hug Remus.
Twenty minutes later and there was a pile of unwrapped presents stack on the table. A collection of rare books from the professors, a stunning, many-shaped vase that changed its form depending on the flowers placed into it from the students, an assortment of wedding charms to make sure the night went with a bang, and some rather cheekily-shaped chocolates from Fred and George that they said would put a little fire in Severus’ belly.
“A new range we’ve introduced,” George announce with a wink. “From our adults only section.”
Professor McGonagall immediately moved to prevent the younger pupils from seeing the confectionery but it was Neville that was peering at them with fascination while Ron blushed at his brothers’ bad taste. Maeve thought it was hilarious, however, and warned Severus they would try them out later and report back to the twins about their success.
One of the last things to be opened was a strange-shaped package whose wrapping was covered with what appeared to be tiny threads of silk. She pulled away at it to reveal a tiny golden harp that resonated gently in her palm. There was no card or any indication as to whom it was from. She looked around questioningly but no one owned up to the gift.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, gazing down at the fine craftsmanship. Even Severus could find nothing about the object to criticise, unlike the chocolates.
“Well, I can’t thank you all enough for your generosity,” Maeve said, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re all so kind and you’ve made the day so special.”
“Now come on, we’ll have no tears from the bride,” Dumbledore said, taking her arm and leading her away from the table of presents. “Let’s all eat!”
The meal passed quickly, much to Severus’ relief, and before they knew it the puddings had been eaten and Dumbledore was rising to make a speech. He tapped his glass and silence descended down the long table. The bride and groom, along with Dumbledore, Remus, Harry and Hermione were all sitting at the smaller table and could look down along the table of guests with ease. The ravens had joined the feast and were settled on one of the walls, while the sun continued to hover above the proceedings, lending its bright protection to the happiness.
“Well, I really have only a few words to say,” he began. “I have known these two young people since they were children and have always had the greatest affection for them, even when they were distant from me for one reason or another. The years have not been as kind to them as they could have been, which is why this happy occasion gives me the greatest of pleasure. They are a testament to the strength of love to bind people and overcome the greatest of adversity.”
Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Maeve immediately reached for his hand, allowing her fingers to slip between his.
“I know they will be happy with the contract they have made today for, in truth, that contract was signed a long time ago and this is just the final stage in their long act of coming together. I know you will all raise a glass to wish them a long and happy life together.”
There was the clink of many glasses being tapped together and a happy chorus of ‘to Maeve and Severus’ rang through the ancient walls.
“And now,” Dumbledore turned to his side. “Perhaps Remus or Harry would like to say a few words?”
Harry looked panic-stricken. He hadn’t expected to speak and yet Dumbledore was looking at him so expectantly. Remus rescued him by rising to his feet and smiling at the seated couple.
“It has taken me some time to accept that this was actually going to happen,” he said, the words heavy with resignation but lightened by his sweet smile. “And now I have I know that two people could not be more suited to each other than Maeve and Severus. At first it may not appear the most conventional of pairings.”
There was a ‘hear, hear’ from someone, someone that sounded suspiciously like Fred and Remus grinned before continuing.
“However, anyone that has seen these two in action will know that the love they share is genuine and unbreakable. From my heart I can say that I have never been happier than today and I wish them the very best in the future. Maeve has been like a sister to me throughout this past year and I’m grateful to her for all her support. Now that she has Severus to support her I know that she will go from strength to strength.”
Maeve squeezed Severus’ hand tightly and smiled her gratitude to Remus for such a generous speech, given his recent feelings. Remus turned to Harry and asked if he had anything to add and Harry was about to shake his head when he changed his mind and stood up. Severus looked at the young man and wondered what he could possibly want to say that anyone would wish to hear.
“I just have a few words,” Harry began, his voice quiet so that the guests at the long table had to strain to hear. “I’ve not known Maeve for very long but not only is she a great teacher, she’s been a great friend to me too. Without her this year would have been a lot harder than it has been, and it’s been bloody hard.”
There were a few muffled laughs before Harry continued.
“When I found out she was marrying Professor Snape I was a bit surprised.”
“That’s a bloody understatement,” Ron called.
“And I wasn’t that happy about it to begin with,” Harry continued, ignoring Ron. “But I gradually came to realise that Professor Snape makes her happy in ways that no one else does and that’s good. I suppose it’s what life is about. My mum and dad must have felt the same way and I just wish I could have shared their happiness in the way I can share Maeve’s. Which brings me to what I really wanted to say.” Harry cleared his throat a little, as if to dislodge the words that sheltered there. “Someone said something to me today that I never expected to hear. It was just two words but they meant a lot.”
Maeve felt Severus move and she thought he was about to stand up and stop Harry from speaking. She saw his face and watched the anger that began to rise. Pulling him back towards her she looked at him with a question in her eyes but he refused to acknowledge her.
“I have something to say too.” Harry turned to Severus and almost failed to carry on when he saw the white-faced fury there. He realised Severus thought he was about to crow about the apology that he had been given and he knew he had to move quickly to dispel the anger. “I’m sorry,” Harry said. “I’m sorry for the actions of others that may have caused harm. I wish they were here to apologise too, but they aren’t. I’m sorry if I too, have been wrong at times. That’s all I have to say.” Harry was suddenly tongue-tied after getting out what he had felt it was important to say. He sat back down, his face flushed red, wondering if Severus would go on the defensive.
“Thank you, Potter.” The response was low and only Maeve, Dumbledore and Harry heard it, but it was enough. Maeve felt her heart leap at the possibility that she had been right to force them together. The possibility of a cessation of hostilities between two of the people she cared for most was the best present anyone could have given her and although she knew they would still walk a rocky road she hoped there would be none of the open hatred that had helped bring about the circumstances of Sirius’ death the previous year.
“Very good,” Dumbledore stood up again. “I think that concludes the speeches, unless the bride and groom would like to speak?” Both Severus and Maeve shook their heads, registering the restlessness of the guests. “Then I think it is time we went back to the guesthouse and changed for the evening reception. As I understand it there will be a lovely buffet along with a rather good selection of music provided by Fred and George, who have both assured me there will be no mishaps, accidental or otherwise.”
Laughter rippled down the tables as people began to stand up, stretching their legs and trying to loosen their clothing after the large feast. Charlie and Arthur took on the task of transporting the presents back to the house while Professors McGonagal and Sprout organised the children for the return walk. The party atmosphere of the previous night had returned and there was much laughter and shouts of excitement as the hall emptied. Professor Trelawney was standing by the doorway and gasping about the power of the Irish air and the density of spirits within it. She grabbed Ginny’s arm as she walked past.
“You, girl, your destiny lies behind you, not in front, remember that!”
Ginny laughed at the breathless woman and wondered how she could keep up this silly seer act for so long. She’d peppered the whole day with mad premonitions, from the fact that they should all beware the advance of a blue-toothed cat to the idea that the ground they trod on was sacred and the spirits would want payment.
“I’ll bear that in mind, Professor,” Ginny laughed as she stepped out onto the grass. The sun was stronger out here and hit Ginny forcibly, making the sweat rise to the surface of her skin. The sooner they got back to the cool of the guesthouse, the better.
“Ginny!” Harry’s voice made her turn. “Wait for me.” Harry had decided he didn’t want to hang around Severus any longer than he had to after the things that had passed between them today and he was running to catch up with her.
“Watch out for…” But Ginny’s warning was too late, Professor Trelawney’s hand grabbed at another victim.
“Ahh…” The seer looked at him closely. “Not dead yet, I see. Beware the dark man, for he bears strange tidings.” To her horror Harry laughed at her and wrenched his arm free. “You can laugh, boy, but you won’t be laughing when the dark man catches up with you!”
“He already did,” Harry grinned and dashed off. He finally caught up with Ginny, who laughed to see him happy and they headed off down the slope together.
Severus and Maeve were the last to leave, as Arthur and Charlie prepared to transport the presents via Portkey. They followed the other guests at a distance, already longing for some time alone together.
“What was Harry talking about?” she asked.
“Apologising for his abominable behaviour, and not before time,” Severus said, his face turned away.
“There was more to it than that. Why were you angry when he began to speak?”
“Because… because I apologised first, on the walk here this morning.”
He was almost knocked off his feet as she jumped into his arms and clutched his body to her. “I knew you could do it,” she whispered in his ear. “I always knew you would do the right thing for Harry, no matter how much you hated his father.”
He prised her off him and fought the gratitude that welled up in her eyes. “I did it because he reminded me of my own father and the deeds he committed. It made me realise that I had perhaps been a little “ extreme “ in my treatment of him. It will not change my opinion of his generally bad behaviour though, not that I have to put up with it in my classroom any longer.”
“I do love you,” she said “You can bury all your goodness as far down as you can reach but it doesn’t make it go away. I think we should run off for a few hours, what do you say?”
“Run off? Run off where?”
“I don’t know, but you’re driving me wild in that shirt.” She was smiling now, her fingers slipping between the buttons and finding the hot skin beneath. “You really should wear this sort of thing more often.”
“I think not, and you should have seen what they wanted me to wear.”
“I can imagine!”
“Blue.” He shuddered at the memory of it before his eyes mellowed. “But you, you look beautiful.” His hand traced the outline of her tightly bound torso, resting in the curve of her waist, unwilling to move. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look quite so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she replied modestly, reaching up to kiss him. Their hands found each other and in the brightness of the sun their wedding bands flashed fire into the air. “Where did these come from?” she asked, looking at her ring flare in the bright light. “They feel familiar.”
“Your father gave them to me,” Severus said, his face cool where her kiss had been. “He said they belonged to another of his children, his son. The pair of them were a wedding gift for the man and his wife. Your father crafted them himself.”
“Oh, “ Maeve’s voice was almost a croak. “Oh my.”
“What?” Severus asked sternly, alarmed by the draining of colour from her face.
“I know who they belonged to…I just can’t believe it.” She took his hand and touched her finger to the ring. “I’ll tell you about it one day, when we find the right place.”
Severus didn’t push for more information, trusting her to tell him when she found the right voice. They turned to walk back down the hill and as they did so she playfully untucked his shirt from the waist of his trousers.
“Now, about running off for a few hours. I think I know just the place.”
Two hours later they lay in the vast bed in the main bedroom of Bridie O’Leary’s cottage wearing nothing but satisfied smiles. The room was cool and filled with happiness as Severus made a reluctant move to get dressed. Maeve watched lazily as he pulled his trousers back on, the guilty pleasure of what they had just done adding to the magic of the day.
“Do you have an evening outfit?” Severus asked, lifting up her beautiful wedding gown from where it had been hurriedly cast and laying it across the end of the bed.
“I do, and I’m going to have a quick bath before I put it on. So you can go downstairs and make a cup of coffee.”
He smiled at her while buttoning up his shirt, fighting the urge to get back into the warm bed and forget about the ordeal of dancing and listening to whatever those awful Weasley twins were threatening to inflict in the way of music.
“You have half an hour, before we will be properly missed,” he warned, prepared to go through with the rest of it only for the sake of decorum. “I think we have been lucky so far.”
“I know,” she mumbled as she threw the covers back and padded across to the bathroom. “I won’t be long.”