A Turn for the Better

Chapter 57 ~ The Moment Arrives

After speaking with Albus, Snape walked to the entrance to Hermione’s quarters and opened it. Hermione was there, sitting alone at the table, no cackling witches around her. She was staring at a magazine and sighing wistfully.

”Alone tonight?” Snape asked her, walking up to the table and looking down at what she was reading. It was a book of bridal gowns. She was looking at one beaded, long-sleeved bridal gown made of snow-white silk, with a sheer beaded veil and a long gorgeous train.

”Isn’t that beautiful?” she sighed.

Snape studied it.

”Yes, it is,” he agreed softly. “Lovely.”

Hermione fell silent. She would be wearing a nice blue dress to the ceremony tomorrow. She couldn’t wear white because she felt white was for virgins. It stood for purity, and after four years of being Severus Snape’s lover, she certainly wasn’t pure. There’d be no lovely bridal gown for her. No one could convince her otherwise.

”Anyone can wear white nowadays, Hermione,” her mother told her. But Hermione felt it would be wrong to do so, would send the wrong message. White was for witches who saved themselves for marriage.
She didn’t take into consideration that she was a witch who saved the entire wizarding world, and that was far more impressive than abstaining from sex.

Snape’s dark eyes washed over her, and he decided not to tell her what he came to tell her. She’d find out tomorrow.

Hermione blinked down at the beautiful dress, then let out a sigh and looked up at Severus.

”Was there a reason you came to see me?” she asked him. He could hear the sadness in her voice. Not a lot of sadness. No one else would have noticed it, but he noticed everything about Hermione.

”Just to say good night,” he said softly. “This is your last night as a Granger, you know.”

Hermione gave him a little smile.

”Yes, it is,” she said softly.

Snape kissed her on the mouth gently, then looked at the magazine.

”May I borrow this?” Snape asked her.

Hermione’s brow furrowed.

”Why?” she asked him.

”I assume there are grooms in there as well,” he stated, picking up the magazine and flipping through it, stopping on a page with a top-hatted, smiling man in a tuxedo with tails. “I simply want to see what they’re wearing these days.”

”Oh,” Hermione replied. “Yes, you can borrow it. Keep it if you like. I can’t do anything with it.”

Well it made an odd sense he was interested. He was getting married after all. Snape tucked the magazine under his arm and looked at Hermione.

”Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked her again.

Hermione’s eyes glistened a little.

”I just think it’s last minute jitters. I wish Neville could be here . . . I wish I could wear white . . . I wish . . .”

”Shhhh!” Severus said softly, drawing her out of the chair, embracing her and stroking her hair.

”Every woman wants the perfect wedding, Hermione, but I tell you this, my love. That our wedding will be perfect, and not because of who’s there or the dress you wear, it will be perfect, Hermione Granger, because you are the bride. Nothing outshines you, nothing diminishes you. You will be the perfect bride. My bride,” Snape said, his dark eyes sober as he looked down at her. Hermione held him tighter.

”I wish it were our wedding night, Severus. I could use your comfort,” Hermione said against his chest.

This would be the perfect opportunity to seduce Hermione. It was easy to see she was vulnerable, and he did want to offer her comfort—but she had worked so hard to get them to this point. It was only one more day after all, and he didn’t want to ruin it for her.

”Tomorrow will be here soon enough, Hermione, and I will give you all the comfort you can stand,” he said with a hint of a growl.

Hermione looked up at him and smiled at the growl. His little display of lustfulness was just what the healer ordered. He was right. None of those things she pined about really mattered. All that mattered were they were being married tomorrow and would spend the rest of their lives together.

”You’re incorrigible,” she said to him, giving him one more small kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Severus.”

”I will be standing at the altar waiting, Hermione,” he said softly, then quickly exited the room. Hermione stood there for a moment, then turned in. She had a big day tomorrow.

Snape returned to his study and sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace and opened the magazine, flipping through the pages until he found the gown Hermione had been looking at. It showed the bride in the gown from all sides and angles.

Snape studied it, his brow furrowed.

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The next morning Hermione was hustled out of her rooms through the private entrance to a small furnished tent on the grounds, where she would be dressed. Her mother, Pomona, Minerva and Sinistra hurried her along, looking back from time to time as if they suspected Snape were trailing them, Disillusioned.

A white bower laced with blue roses had been set up, Albus’ white podium standing before it. A few chairs were set up in rows. Not many. About twenty. It was a Saturday and this section of the grounds had been deemed off-limits to students, but a number of them stood in the distance straining to see Snape getting married. He was mellower in this timeline, but he still was a rather hard wizard to his students. The students wanted to see if Hermione would really go through with it, or make an escape while she still could. No one would blame her.

However, there were four students present, all members of a musical quartet which would play the wedding march. They stood a little distance on the right of the podium. A small table of libations and finger foods was set up on the left, covered in a blue tablecloth trimmed with white roses.

Obviously, no one consulted Snape concerning the décor.

The staff arrived, noisily taking their seats. John Granger arrived with Albus and both watched as Snape billowed across the landscape alone, dressed in his best dress robes, his hair silken as he hurried toward them. Five more people made their way across the grounds.

”Who is that?” Filch said from his seat. He understood only staff and immediate family would be in attendance. He stood up arthritically.

”Wedding crashers! I’ll get them Snape!” the squib declared, starting to hobble toward the approaching group.

”Ah, no, Argus. It’s fine. They are guests. Some are unexpected, but welcome.”

Filch muttered under his breath about last minute changes and how was he to protect the castle grounds with just anyone being allowed in as he sat down again.

As the group drew closer, it was revealed that the guests were Alice and Frank Longbottom, Luna and her father, and Neville, dressed to the nines in a black tuxedo, a white carnation in his lapel.

Everyone welcomed them and Luna, her dad and Neville’s parents took a seat as Neville walked up to Snape. He was tall and tanned now from living in the Amazon, but his eyes were as honest and guileless as every as he walked up to professor Snape and offered the wizard his hand with confidence.

”Congratulations, professor Snape,” Neville said to the wizard.

”Thank you, Mr. Longbottom,” Snape replied. The lad had grown quite a bit. He was definitely a man now.

”Sir, this might be a bit presumptuous, but the Headmaster owled my parents and said you don’t have a best man. They told me this morning when I arrived. Professor, I’d be honored to stand with you when you marry Hermione. I still remember when I found out about how she felt about you. She loved you even then. She’s very close to me, sir, and I want to be a part of her big day, to show her I support her—and you, sir. May I be your best man?”

Snape glanced over at Albus, who suddenly found something very interesting on the ground to look at, then back at Neville. Yes, Neville did care about Hermione, even risked his life to help her find the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, and he made a long trip by Apparition to get back here in time. Apparition over such a long distance was quite dangerous in itself, yet both he and Luna braved it so they wouldn’t miss Hermione’s wedding. How much more dedication could he show the witch? Yes, Neville was more than suitable to stand by him. He loved Hermione in his way, and wanted to see her happy.

”I would be honored to have you stand by me, Mr. Longbottom. But, I must inform you, however, that she doesn’t know you are here. Albus received your message last night and informed me, but—I did not get a chance to tell her,” Snape told him.

Actually, at the last minute Snape decided not to tell her Neville would be at the wedding. He wanted to have a surprise or two of his own. He knew she’d be overjoyed to see him and it would make their wedding more wonderful that he served as best man.

”That’s great! It’ll be a surprise,” Neville said with a broad smile. “I’d better lay low so she doesn’t see me.”

Snape made a face as he looked at the tightly closed tent.

”No need to worry about that, Mr. Longbottom. My future wife is as well-guarded as Gringotts. She won’t step foot out of that tent until the wedding march begins,” Snape responded.

In the tent, Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. She looked very nice, with a garland of blue roses around her curly brown hair, matching blue earrings, her blue silk dress and blue pumps. Her bouquet was made of blue and white roses. Her wand rested among them. She wore a bit of make-up but not too much. As she studied herself, she knew she looked nice . . . but not beautiful.

”You look lovely, Hermione,” Jean said to her daughter, sensing a bit of sadness radiating off of her. “Severus is going to be so pleased.”

Hell, Hermione could come out wearing a burlap sack and Snape would be pleased.

Hermione didn’t respond. Suddenly someone attempted to part the tent fabric and enter. All the witches shrieked as if it were Severus. John Granger winced.

”Oh, we thought you were Severus,” Minerva said apologetically.

”He has better sense than to try and get in here,” John replied. “I was afraid myself, and I’m supposed to walk my daughter down the aisle.”

His brown eyes turned on Hermione, who was staring back at him soberly.

”You look lovely, Hermione,” he said to her, his eyes full of love.

Hermione suddenly walked into his embrace, longing for the comfort her father’s arms always gave her. John Granger hugged her tenderly and kissed her forehead. He looked down at her.

”Today’s the day I lose my little girl,” he said to Hermione, whose eyes were glistening.

”You’re not losing me, dad,” she replied softly, “I’m just getting married, not leaving the face of the planet.”

”Yes, I know, but you won’t be a Granger any longer. You’ll be a Snape. You’ll be his responsibility now,” John replied.

Hermione scowled.

”I’ll be my own responsibility,” she snapped.

Jean covered her mouth with her hand. John had made a boo-boo. Hermione was far too independent to say something like that to without some repercussions.

”Kitten, you know what I meant,” her father said apologetically.

Hermione sighed.

”Yes, I know, dad. It’s just nerves, I guess.”

Suddenly strains of the quartet warming up sounded.

”We’d better go,” Jean said, kissing both John and Hermione as she exited the tent. Minerva, Pomona, Sinistra and Hooch followed, wishing Hermione the best as they exited.

John slipped his arm through his daughter’s arm and took a deep breath as the wedding march began.

”It’s you and me, kitten,” he said with a reassuring pat on her arm. “Let’s go.”

And they stepped through the tent opening and onto the grounds.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.