The Gilded Cage

Draco_Lover- This chapter should answer that question.
Alina- I don't think I've seen that one. I'll have to check it out.
War Lioness- *blushes* Thank you. I'm absolutely humbled by your praise.
Terpsichore- Thank you - and welcome to LJ.
neelix- She needed a little rescuing. It only drives home her need. Thanks.
katiekrm- Jake is very much a nurturing sort, and they both need that. I think he hexed with glee.
Anathema- Ah, well that just adds to the an-ti-ci-pation. I've got to keep your interest, that's my job.
Heidi191976- Thank you, and they will.
DarklessVasion- I'm a big fan of Hornitos myself, but I'm a one drink kind of drunk. A very cheap date.
Rini- Whoops! Thanks for catching my type-o. It was so much fun thinking up those pastry names.
Voracious- No, I didn't know that. Wow. I am very impressed with your liberal arts education, but then I'm a big geek for the Humanities.
Phoenix- Yikes! It was kinda harsh, but could you really see Severus taking advantage of his drunken wife? Even if she's begging for it, she's not really giving consent. Yeah, the fall out if he'd slept with her would have been much worse.

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Chapter 57 - Alis Volat Propiis


“You do realize that’s the worse idea I’ve heard from you yet.”


“I thought it would be romantic,” he mumbled into his afternoon tea.


“Which part? When she hexes your testicles off, or the part where you completely ruin Ginny and Billy’s wedding? Because I cannot see this ending well for you, mate. She may even hate you for it.”


“Besides,” he grinned slyly, setting out more brie and pickled walnuts – Snape comfort food – “weddings are supposed to be ruined by the bride on the rag, distant relatives giving horribly embarrassing, drunken toasts, and if it’s really good, a bridesmaid getting preggers in a coat closet. Not unwanted ex-husbands making surprise entrances at the altar as the Best Man.”


They were unnaturally silent for a few moments before Jake slapped his forehead. “Sorry, dude. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure you’re not unwanted.”


Severus ruefully sat back and considered the milk-livered twit’s words. Jake had cautioned him against cornering Hermione in a public location. He also might have mentioned that acting anything less than contrite was a ‘bad idea.’ Perhaps the little Hufflepuff had a point. Both tactics had been disastrous, and Severus was no closer to winning Hermione back than he was while sitting in prison.


“I am willing to admit, it may be… ill-timed. And I’m not your dude.”


“Severus, you can't just surprise her. You have to warn her.” Jake whined, stamping his foot like a fourth year Yule Ball date. “It’s a terrible idea. Let me set the scene for you.” Jake waved his hands in circles, and Severus arched an incredulous eyebrow at his ‘Jazz hands.’


“Ginny and Billy begged you to be their Best Man. They’re looking forward to you standing next to them while they recite their vows. And while it’s highly suspicious to me that you just happen to be the Best Man and Hermione is the Maid of Honor, because I’m sure they’re trying to be evil little matchmakers, which isn’t funny at all because that’s my job, but the point is – it’s their day. If you show up at the altar on the day of the wedding to sweep Hermione off her feet, you’re picking the wrong venue.


"And Hermione’s not dense either. She makes horribly stupid decisions about her personal life – no offense – and is in desperate need of a decent moisturizer for her combination skin, but she won’t appreciate the gesture at all. This isn’t some soap opera. She’s not going to swoon and ask the officiating wizard to do a double wedding. She’s more likely to give you the cold shoulder, at best, and storm out of the wedding at worst. Or maybe worse than that…”


Jake paused mid-rant to take a deep breath. It helped, especially considering his face was going slightly purple-ish. “And even if she’s in a forgiving mood and wants to take your sorry ass back, she’s certainly not crass enough to do so at their wedding. Think Severus. I know you want to get her back, and you believe it requires some bold move, but think about what you’re saying. God, why are you so bad with women?”


Severus scowled, and probably undid all the work the Healer had done on his jaw alignment.


“What would a poof like you know about women?” He countered, feeling very petty.


“My, my, Severus, aren’t we a little sensitive tonight? You’re a forty-something, miserable old wizard, and if Hermione hadn’t propositioned you, you’d still be a bachelor. Oh wait, I think I just answered my question on why you're bad with women. But whatever. Just consider that I have more experience with the fairer sex, I’ve been privy to all Hermione’s girl talk, and at the moment, I’m being a lot more objective than you are. And I’m not a poof.”


Severus recoiled. “You’re not?”


“Of course not, dearie. I don't discriminate; I’m an equal opportunity lover. Why be so narrow-minded about who you choose to love, when it’s love that’s most important. That is, when I can find someone to love,” he added. Jake felt destined to always be a bridesmaid and never a bride.


"How ...Hufflepuff."

Jake's lips twisted into a wry grin. "That's it. Now you're catching on. Come to Hufflepuff, we'll take 'em all. You know, I'll make a little badger buddy of you yet, Severus Snape."


"I think not." Severus harrumphed and busied himself with clearing dishes, as her ginger monster threaded himself between Severus’ legs. He swore the beast was trying to trip him again.


“So? What should I do?” he asked in a resigned voice.


Jake batted his eyelashes. “I thought you’d never ask!”


*****


Hermione was not having a good day. It was decidedly a ‘bad day.’ The wedding rehearsal was a disaster, which was mostly attributable to the fact that both parties were significantly hung over. And their Best Man was missing, which she thought was terribly tacky, but she kept her mouth shut. Honestly, she didn’t care. Her focus was on trying to ignore all the crap she had going on in her life and smiling when necessary so that Ginny had a beautiful wedding.


Perhaps once all the wedding stuff was over, and she made sure that the last past-due shipment to the distributors was caught up and delivered, she’d go on a vacation. A real vacation. Not the nightmare that had been her trip to Australia. A guilty conscious was a heavy thing to carry. But even though she’d done away with the guilty baggage that had been her parents’ exile to Australia, her mood hadn’t improved. It probably had to do with the fact that she had neither heard from nor seen Severus since he tried to embarrass her in front of an audience.


She needed a vacation. A real vacation. With tropical beaches, cabana boys, and coconut-smelling tanning oil. No. Most resort locations were modern, with internet access and hordes of other tourists. She felt the need to disappear. Hermione sighed and placed the tribe of Weasley bridesmaids in their processional order for the third time. She needed a country where she could get lost. Maybe something with ‘stan’ in the name.


Running from her troubles was counter-productive. Her self-help books all said so. But then they seemed most useful as lining for her owl cage. Escapism sounded perfectly acceptable. She envisioned a fantasy of some desolate and craggy Mediterranean coastline with wind-whipped trees stretching towards the sea. Gulls overhead. Friendly suntanned locals. And no phone, internet, or owl post around.


She dutifully repositioned an errant Weasley to flank the correct side of the altar.


‘Ha!’ she cackled to herself. Places like that didn’t exist, or if they did they were uninhabitable or littered with tourists. Even the old leaky-roofed lighthouse where Hagrid had collected an eleven year old Harry had turned into a pilgrimage site for Chosen-One aficionados.


A small tawny owl flew into the chapel, perched on a chair, and began trilling and hooting. All eyes turned to the bird, and Ron, who was filling in for the absentee Best Man went to retrieve the missive.


"Oi, Hermione!" he called out, as all eyes slid to her. "It's for you!"


Her fists clenched until her nails left painful crescent marks in her palm. She gritted her teeth and growled in a low and dangerous tone, "I hate my distributors!"


Muttering curses vulgar enough to make a Death Eater blush, and certainly as inappropriate for a chapel as a hooting owl, she stormed across the room, ripped the rolled parchment out of his hand.


"...and stuff the charred remains..." She stopped mid-tirade as soon as she noticed the handwriting.


White as a sheet, Hermione turned apologetically to the Bride. "I'm sorry Gin, I've got to take this." Oddly, she felt like she had just gotten an interrupting phone call.


Hermione quietly slipped into the small office allocated to the bridal party and slumped against the door. On wobbly knees she dragged herself into a chair and unfurled the note with trembling fingers.


My Hermione,
I do not wish to startle you or cause you any additional hurt, so I must inform you that William Mulciber has asked me to stand for him as his Best Man.

I can only hope our conflict will not cause a disruption to their wedding. Hermione, if there is any hope left for us, I'd like to meet with you and see what we can salvage in our relationship. I truly am sorry I caused you embarrassment on your date with Mr. Dirkins. It was very petty of me to act so possessive of you, but I still think of you as my wife.


Yours,
Severus


She read it twice, flipped the page over in case she had missed anything, and read it again. By the time she had put down the entirely too-short note, Hermione had it memorized.


I still think of you as my wife


She heard his voice drawling in her ear and a cold shiver ran up her spine. Severus.


The half-formed and blurry recollection of the night before swam in front of her mind's eye. In the shower, she'd remembered what she could about the night before, and had been mortified.


Hermione had gone out, gotten completely and embarassingly trashed and - for lack of a better word - molested some Muggle. Just because he reminded her vaguely of Severus. If that wasn't bad enough, Hermione had called him Severus, and begged him to take her to bed. Never mind the fact she had no memory of how she got to bed.


As she had gotten dressed, Hermione had racked her brain for a depressingly long time trying to figure out if she had actually taken the Muggle home. Her body didn't feel any different. And it was a very low personal moment when she cast a charm just to find out if they'd had sex. Her relief at the negative test result was overwhelming.


It had still taken a lot of Gryffindor courage to show her face at the rehersal. Hermione had imagined they would turn their disapproving eyes upon her, and she'd lose the last of her friends willing to stand up for her. Except they hadn't even paid her any mind. That might have been because only Hermione had recovered properly from her hangover. The nutritional suppliments Jake had left for her were... Severus quality.


The thought she'd been avoiding... the obvious conclusion that skirted her logical brain... she knew it, but didn't want to acknowledge it. The parchment in her fingertips, however, was hard to ignore.


Severus had been there. Whether she'd been too shit-faced plasterd to recognize him, or he'd been disguised, Hermione wasn't certain. But as little fragmented memories resorted themselves in her fuzzy mind, she knew - Severus had been there.


And dear god, she'd molested him!


"Oh, shoot me now," she moaned piteously.


It was one thing to get trashed and do infinitely stupid things in front of her friends and strangers she'd never see again. It was quiet another to do them in front of Severus. But he had taken care of her. She was pretty certain he had seen her home.


I still think of you as my wife.


Hope, absent for so long from her heart, suddenly bloomed within her chest. If her feet could have left the ground, she would have soared.


It was thirty minutes before Hermione emerged from the backroom to give the tawny owl her reply. Her cheeks were blotchy and her make-up washed off, but she was smiling. Billy slumped against Ginny in relief.


Ginny pinched his bum and hissed in his ear, "That's ten Galleons you owe me."


"Gladly," Billy replied. "Gladly."


*****


Severus scanned the sky for dots that might turn into owls bearing a kind word - well, actually any response from Hermione would do. The sky was abysmally empty except for a Muggle airplane leaving white scars across the perfect blue sky. He pulled his parka tighter around his shoulders, huffed a warming breath into his hands and trudged to the ramshackle garden shed at the back of the property.


With Hermione lurking about and Muggle neighborhoods surrounding them, there were no less than six Distraction and Confounding charms on the backyard in general, and a further two Notice-Me-Nots on the shed in particular. Nobody wanted to explain to the authorities pictures of a house-elf and a mess of production workers who entered the tiny pop-up tent like a clown car. But then, that was the hassle of doing business throughout the Wizarding world. Only Hogsmeade was an all-wizarding village, meaning 90 percent of British Wizarding society lived smushed between Muggles. And yet, they did not integrate.


Jake was seated in the narrow gap between the shed and the back fence, trading stories and smoking fags with Tink. Jake followed his gaze and accurately assumed Severus wasn’t fascinated by the 747.


“Give her time,” he soothed.


Jake obligingly held out another fag for Tink and shook his head. His pack was nearly empty, and given half the chance, she’d bum them all. ‘Ah well,’ he thought. The elf was unsalaried; a few fags here and there wouldn’t kill them.


Jake frowned and stared at the squat elf puffing away on her fourth light in an hour. Would they kill her? He shrugged and resolved to keep an eye on the old girl.


Hermione would kill him. She knew nothing about Tink, but if by chance she found out that he’d let an elf smoke herself to an early grave, Hermione would kill him. Jake took a deep lung-filling drag. And she’d make it painful. That witch knew way too many inventive hexes. She was really scary actually, and Jake was grateful she'd been on their side during the war.


Out of the corner of his eye, Jake perceived Severus stiffen, and he shifted his eyes skyward.


“Owl. Ten o’clock,” Jake needlessly announced.


Severus cast him a look that plainly read, ‘I knew that, fuckwit.’


“And it’s Norma Jean,” Jake added, also unnecessarily.


“Fuckwit,” Severus grunted.


“Jinx!” Jake squealed, knowing full well it was lost on the wizard entirely, but not caring either. Not that Severus was likely to have noticed. Severus was fully focused on the incoming bird, like a Hippogriff on a juicy, dead ferret.


Norma Jean ignored the taciturn wizard tracking her movements and flew to her sugar-daddy who already had bacon proffered. Jake quickly tapped his wand on the bird, reversing the color changing spell he'd placed on her. It would be just another reason for Hermione to kill him if she knew he was in cahoots with Severus. And Norma Jean preferred the tawny color over her natural earth-brown.


Jake kept him waiting in agony as he preened Norma Jean and praised her for doing her fucking job. Irritated beyond reason, Severus snatched the parchment from her talons, shredding it in the process, but not giving a damn.


Soothing Norma Jean, Jake discretely observed Severus. She was a deeply sensitive bird, and Severus grabbing her parchment had ruffled her pin feathers. If he didn’t calm her, she’d be dropping partially digested mouse pellets all over the house for weeks.


Severus’ eyes stopped roaming the parchment and he stood stock still and silent. Even in the pale of winter, his face drained of all color.


“Well,” Jake pried in a whining voice. “What does it say?”


Severus swallowed thickly, trying to find his voice, and looked down at the parchment again, even though he already had her message committed to memory. “She’s willing to meet with me. But only after the wedding. She won't see me for the rehearsal dinner. It's too soon.”


"Fabulous!" Jake clapped.


*
A/N:
Chapter title: Alis Volat Propiis - She flies with her own wings

This chapter was beta'd by the amazing 'Chief Pervert Inspector' Christev the Great.

Next chapter will actually features SS and HG together. In the same room (gasp!). The Angst-muse has fled the coop. Schmootches Kittens, AV