Title: a convenient Marriage

He chuckled again, then held out his hand to Harry. "Congratulations, Mr. Potter. If you'll just sign this document - here, and then again here." Harry did. "Very good, sir." He tapped the document and it duplicated into two scrolls. He rolled up one and handed to Harry. "For the witnesses to sign. I will see you again tomorrow to verify that the marriage has been consummated, but until then I wish you joy, Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter-Snape, I should say. Good day."

Harry looked down at the scroll, looked up at the back of the retreating man, then back down at the scroll. Damn, he thought faintly. I think I just got married.

"Harry?" Harry looked up to see Dumbledore looking at him, concern clear in his eyes. "Are you all right, my boy?"

Harry silently handed Dumbledore the scroll, and the Headmaster quickly scanned down it before briskly nodding. "I knew we could count on Ignatius to get the paperwork sorted properly. Congratulations, Harry."

"Am I...married, then?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore's shrewd eyes studied him. "It will be all right, Harry, in the end. You'll see."

"Yes, sir," Harry said automatically, even as he wondered how Dumbledore could possibly think that.

He glanced over at where Madame Pomfrey had finally finished with Snape. Harry couldn't help staring at Snape as he rose to his feet. This was the man who had hated him all throughout his years at Hogwarts and was now irrevocably married to him. Snape had abandoned his long robes in favour of the shorter duelling-style robe and trousers he'd worn back when Harry was a Second year, and Harry couldn't help but notice that they looked good on him. They were worse for wear at the moment, torn and singed in more than a few places, and a particularly long and jagged tear had reduced the right leg of his trousers to tatters. Harry winced at the thought of what that had done to Snape's leg. There was a partially healed cut across Snape's left cheek as well, and his hair was in complete disarray.

For the first time, Harry was forcibly struck by the risk this man had taken on his behalf - another in a series of risks, really. He was torn by conflicting feelings of gratitude and resentment, and forced his attention away from Snape, focusing instead on his godfather's concerned face.

"Harry?" Sirius asked.

Harry managed to drag up a smile. "I'm fine. So - what happens next?" It was only after he asked that he wondered if he really wanted to know.

Capter 3

What happened next, apparently, was a party at Snape's house.

Correction - their house, as per the signed contract in his hand.

Harry stood in the middle of Snape's living room -Dumbledore had arranged for port keys to take them to Snape's house - staring at the scroll he still clutched in his hand. It seemed surreal, almost as bizarre as the sight of Sirius helping himself at the sumptuous buffet table across the room, or Ron offering his polite congratulations to Snape. Harry stared blankly at the scroll and had to resist the urge to toss the scroll in the fireplace and yell, "April Fool's!"

"I'll take that, Potter," Snape said sharply, and Harry reluctantly released his grip on the now-crumpled scroll.

He watched numbly as Snape laid the scroll and a quill on a small side table. Dumbledore immediately walked over to the table and signed it and then, to his surprise, Ron.

"What's that about?" Harry asked Hermione.

She looked at him in surprise. "All of the witnesses are required to sign, Harry, ascertaining that the marriage took place and that Snape offered the proper hospitality to the bridal party."

Harry flinched at the word "bridal" and said, irritably, "'Proper hospitality'? They take away points if the sandwiches don't have the crusts cut off or something?"

Hermione gave him a disapproving look. "Really, Harry. I would think you'd be more grateful to Professor Snape. He did just save you from having to marry Lucius Malfoy."

Harry suddenly felt anything but grateful. This was not how he had expected his wedding to be, the few times he'd thought about getting married. He remembered the pictures from his parents' wedding with all their friends around, and compared that to his wand- point non-wedding and this shabby little reception, and felt horribly cheated by Fate. He didn't care that he was acting like a spoiled brat at the moment. Once again, he'd had a chance at something "normal" snatched away from him, and he didn't know who to hate more: Malfoy, Sirius, or Snape.

"Right," Harry said bitterly. "I can't tell you how thrilled I am."

"Well, you should be," she said firmly. "Put this on," she added, handing him his dress robe. "And straighten your collar."

He gave her an incredulous look, not believing she was concerned about his clothes when his life was falling apart around him. "Why are you worrying about how I look? Snape's the one whose robes are in tatters! Why don't you give him fashion tips?"

"Those are honour marks, Harry," she explained patiently. "The house-elves will preserve his robes so your descendents can see how well he fought for you. Honestly, didn't you read the book I gave you?"

"As if I wanted to learn more about this whole mess, considering that it's Snape."

Hermione looked at him in a way that made Harry suddenly feel about ten years old. "Don't you think it's about time you grew up?"

His jaw dropped and he watched in surprise as she crossed the room to sign the scroll, then went up to Snape. She must have been offering her congratulations because Snape gravely inclined his head and said something in response to her that - for once - appeared to be polite. She gestured in Harry's direction, and when Snape looked over, the man's gaze caught Harry. Snape's expression was inscrutable, his eyes intense, and Harry flushed as he tore his eyes away.

"He's not so bad, Harry."

Harry looked around at Lupin in disbelief. "Not you, too! After everything he's said and done to you -are you trying to make me believe he's just a sweet, misunderstood soul?"

Lupin laughed. "No, not that. Severus is a sneaky, conniving bastard. His tongue can peel your hide and his sarcasm will shrivel your soul. He's opinionated and stubborn to a fault, can hold onto a grudge for longer than anyone I know - except maybe Sirius -and he is blinkered against those who can't meet his standards." He paused. "He's sharp-witted and clever as well, absolutely committed to his principles - peculiar though they may be - and will sacrifice his life without a second thought for two people. Albus Dumbledore is one. You are the other."

Harry blinked. "Are you trying to tell me that Snape is in love with me?"

Lupin shook his head. "Not at all. I don't think he knows what love is, although what he feels for Albus may come close. Which isn't surprising, given his background." His shrewd eyes seemed to bore through Harry. "I don't think you do, either."

Defensively, Harry said, "Hey! I love plenty of people! Sirius, and Ron, and Hermione, and...and..."

"Harry," Lupin said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You care about others, yes, but I don't think you trust anyone enough to truly love them. But maybe someday..." He squeezed Harry's shoulder and smiled. "I'd better go sign the marriage scroll now. It looks like Severus is getting ready to toss out the lot of us."

Harry swung around to see that the party was, indeed, winding down. In fact, Hermione and Ron were heading his way, obviously coming to say their good-byes. Panic suddenly overwhelmed him - what was he supposed to do, alone here with Snape? The answer was immediately obvious, and he could feel his face flushing.

"Breathe, mate, or you'll never make it through the honeymoon," Ron teased him, and then said, "Ow!" as Hermione elbowed him sharply.

Hermione ignored her fiancé as she hugged Harry. "Congratulations, Harry. It'll be all right - just have a little faith."

Harry tried to smile but he knew it looked forced. "Yeah," he said. "Come back for a visit when you have the time."

Ron nodded and hugged Harry as well. "Just let me know when Snape's out and I'll pop over. Maybe do a pub crawl one night."

"Ron!"

"Come off it, Hermione. You know Snape won't want to see me any more than I want to see him. He'll probably count the silver the minute I leave."

Harry laughed at that and said good-bye. Lupin came over to say farewell, too, and before Harry knew it, he was standing in the room with just Sirius. He looked around surreptitiously.

"Where's Sna- " He paused, not sure what he should call the man who was now his husband. "Snape" didn't seem right, but "Severus" felt too strange in his mouth.

"Gone up to get ready," Sirius said. "You need to do the same."

Harry flushed and said, "Um, yeah, I suppose. Where...?"

"Follow me. Snape showed me your room earlier."

Harry followed Sirius up the stairs, his feet feeling like they weighed a ton. As they entered the bedroom, Sirius took a look at him and sighed. "Harry, it's not as bad as all that. If you can't stand the thought of Snape touching you like that, pretend it's someone else you've been with."

Harry flushed and looked around at the room so he wouldn't have to look at his godfather. Right now, he wasn't too happy with the man, and he knew it would show in his eyes.

The room was actually very nice. It was a masculine room, decorated in blue and cream and light oak. A large window appeared to look over the grounds, and a cosy reading chair was placed in front of it. There was an open door in the wall to his right - probably leading to the bathroom, since a large wardrobe filled the rest of the space along that wall. A large bed took up the wall to his left, and Harry found his eyes drawn inexorably to it. An old-fashioned nightshirt was draped across the bed and Harry hastily looked away.

"There hasn't been anyone else," he muttered, realizing that Sirius was looking at him in concern.

"What?" Sirius exclaimed. He grabbed Harry's arm and pulling him around so he could see Harry's face. "Are you telling me that you're a - "

"Virgin," Harry said with a sigh.

"Merlin save us," Sirius groaned. "Why didn't you say something? I could have taken you to a place I know and taken care of that."

"It's not a disease," Harry said crossly. "And I don't see how hiring a prostitute would have helped."

"I didn't mean it like that," Sirius protested, running his fingers through his hair. "It's just - well, I'd lost mine by the time I was fifteen, and your father'd gone through at least half the girls and boys by the time we left school."

Not Snape, Harry hoped. That would be just too weird. Out loud he said, "I'm not my father."

Sirius sighed. "I know you're not, Harry. I realized that years ago. And look - just so you don't worry - James and Snape never did it, I swear."

Harry felt his ire drain out of him and sat down on the bed. It wasn't Sirius' fault, after all. "Sorry. Guess I'm just a little nervous."

"You've got a right to be," Sirius admitted. "Just relax and let it happen. Snape'll know what he's doing." Sirius paused. "I hope."

Harry groaned and flopped back on the bed. "Great. Just great," he muttered. "Look, you don't have to wait around here. Remus is probably waiting for you to come home."

Sirius gave him a puzzled look. "Harry, I'm your second. I'll be staying here tonight, to verify the marriage."

Harry could feel all the blood drain from his face. "You're going to watch?"

Sirius gave him a pained look. "Of course not. Albus and I will be sitting outside the room, guarding it."

Harry managed a weak smile. "From people trying to get in, or me trying to get out?"

"It's traditional," Sirius said, shrugging.

"Wonderful," Harry muttered.

"You'd better get changed before Snape gets here," Sirius said, picking up the nightshirt.

"Um, no offence, Sirius, but I wear pyjamas to bed."

"Not tonight, you don't," Sirius said. "It's - "

"I know. Traditional." He started removing his clothes, too cross to care about the damage he was doing to them. Once he'd removed his shirt, he pulled the nightshirt over his head and sat down to remove his shoes and trousers. He debated about removing his pants, but the thought of standing about in a gown with nothing underneath was a bit too much.

Standing up again, he said, "Well, how do I look?"

Sirius suddenly hugged him, hard. "God, Harry, I'm so sorry to put you through this. I should have found some other way."

Harry buried his face against Sirius' shoulder. "There wasn't," he said gruffly. "Better Snape than Malfoy."

"Yeah," Sirius muttered. "But not by much."

Harry realized that, now that the Malfoy-danger was over, Sirius' old animosity towards Snape was rising again and was almost glad to hear the door open.

"All ready?" Dumbledore asked as he entered the room, a genial smile on his face.

"Um, yeah," Harry said, extracting himself from Sirius' embrace. He glanced at Snape and realized that the man was dressed in a nightshirt, too. He wondered if the other man was wearing anything underneath, and flushed as he looked away.

"Right," Sirius said, looking uncomfortable himself. "Well. We'll just be outside, then. Guarding. 'Night, Harry."

Harry could see Snape smirking as Sirius left the room at just short of a run, and he scowled. Dumbledore sighed and shook his head, then smiled at both of them. "I wish you both much joy," he said formally.

Harry knew he was blushing again, but he was surprised to see that Snape suddenly looked uncertain. "Albus..."

Dumbledore gently touched Snape's cheek, and Harry was surprised to see tenderness in the gesture. "It will be all right, my dear boy. You'll see."

Snape's mouth twisted. "Maybe you think so, but I no longer believe in miracles."

"That's quite all right, Severus; I'll believe in them for you." He patted Snape's cheek before stepping back. "And I believe in you."

Harry watched Dumbledore leave the room, closing the door securely behind him, then looked at Snape. Surprisingly, the man seemed almost as embarrassed as he was.

"Um, what now?" Harry said, carefully not looking at the bed.

"I would think that would be obvious, even to you, Potter." Snape walked over to the small table by the window, poured the flask sitting there into a glass, and walked back to Harry. "Here. Drink this."

Harry drank it, and then belatedly wondered what Snape had given him. "What was that stuff?"

Snape scowled at him. "Idiot boy - you should have asked before drinking it. I could have poisoned you."

"At this point, poison would be a blessing," Harry muttered, eyeing the bed uneasily. "Do we really have to do this?"

"Yes," Snape said flatly. "That officious twit from the Ministry will be back at an ungodly hour of the morning, Potter. He will make us take Veritaserum and affirm that the marriage has been consummated. If it has not, the contract is immediately annulled and Malfoy's claim will take precedence." He sneered at Harry. "And I promise you that your missish whinging will not impress Lucius in the least."

"I am not whinging!" Harry said, glaring at Snape. Or at least he tried to glare. For some odd reason, his muscles seemed reluctant to obey him. "What did you give me?"

"A simple relaxant." Snape gave him a little push towards the bed. "It occurred to me that this might go better if you weren't petrified with fear or tossing up your guts."

"You think?" Harry said sarcastically. He sat on the bed, relieved that the world seemed to stop spinning when he did so.

"Now, as to the matter at hand," Snape said briskly, moving to the other side of the bed and laying his wand down on the night table. "There will be no romantic nonsense such as kissing. I top exclusively. I am willing to be flexible as far as positions are concerned, so if you have a preferred one, now is the time to mention it - really, Potter, if you embarrass this easily, it's a wonder you get laid at all."

"I don't," Harry muttered. "I mean, I haven't."

Snape froze in place and then turned slowly towards him. "I beg your pardon? What did you say?"

Harry cleared his throat. "I said I haven't. Gotten laid, I mean. This is my first time."

"Merlin's balls," Snape groaned, sitting down on the bed as if the strength had suddenly left his body. "Why didn't you tell anyone that you were a virgin, Potter?"

"I did," Harry said. "Sirius. Just tonight. And now you."

"Just - Potter, is it possible that anyone could be more of an idiot than you?"

Harry glared at him. "What's the problem with that?"

"The 'problem', Potter," Snape snarled at him, "is that I am no one's idea of an ideal first time. If you had spoken up, a prior arrangement could have been made - "

"If I had wanted to pay someone to have sex with me," Harry said between clenched teeth. "I would have done so before now. I'm not a complete idiot. I was...waiting."

Snape frowned. "For what?" Harry flushed and bit his lip, then looked away, and Snape understood. "Damn all idealistic Gryffindors to hell! What, expecting your True Love to sweep you off your feet and carry you off to live happily ever after, Potter?"

"Do you think you could possibly call me 'Harry'?" Harry snapped at him. "After all, we're married and in bed together. I think a little informality is appropriate."

"Pot- Harry," Snape said, grinding his teeth. "True love is a myth. If you're lucky, you fall in lust with someone who is equally lust- ridden for you, someone you can just about tolerate later when the novelty has worn off."

The thought was depressing, and Harry would have been depressed if it weren't for the fact that he was too relaxed at the moment to care. "What about you?" he asked idly. "Was your first time with someone you'd 'fallen in lust' with?"

He tried to picture Snape torn by lust and found it impossible to imagine. Although really, the man wasn't so bad looking in the candlelight, and his hair looked surprisingly soft and clean. Must have had a bit of a wash before coming to bed, Harry though. He flushed, more than a little freaked out at finding Snape attractive in any way.

Snape didn't seem to notice. Instead, he glared at Harry. "That is none of your business. Suffice it to say that I have enough experience to make this tolerable for both of us. And that is all I shall say on the subject."

Harry smiled ruefully. "Still protecting me, Professor?"

Snape's lips twitched and for a moment Harry thought he was going to smile as well. "The habit appears to be difficult to break."

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but I'm not relaxed anymore," Harry said with a sigh. "Any more of that potion on hand?"

"It would be deleterious for you to take more so soon," Snape replied.

Harry scowled at him. "Do you think you could use regular words every now and then? Just for the novelty of it?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Idiot boy. If you took another dose right now, it would relax you into a coma. Plain enough for you?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

"There should still be enough residual effects," Snape said. "Lie down and close your eyes. Breathe slowly and evenly, and let your mind drift."

Harry obeyed and found that his body quickly relaxed again. There was a shifting on the bed beside him and a quiet murmur of "Nox". He opened his eyes slightly and was relieved to find that the room was in total darkness. He didn't think he could do this if he knew Snape was looking at him.

"Turn on your side," Snape's voice murmured in the darkness, and Harry shivered. He'd never really noticed that voice before - probably because it was usually belittling him - but in the darkness it sounded like dark honey being poured over his body.

He shifted onto his side and felt Snape move in close behind him. "Relax, Harry," the man murmured and Harry felt strong fingers massaging his back and shoulders. With a sigh, he let himself completely relax, trusting Snape to get them through this ordeal as easily as possible.

"Well, you can follow directions after all," Snape's voice murmured and Harry snorted, but he was too relaxed to care. "You'll feel a slight tingle now, nothing to worry about."

Harry felt the tingle around and inside his arse, and he jumped. "You might have said where I'd feel the tingle," he complained. "What was that about?"

"Cleansing and lubrication spell," Snape murmured. "Surely you remember the sex education lecture in your Sixth year?"

"Pomfrey didn't say anything about spells," Harry retorted. "Although lube was one of her favourite topics - manually applied."

"Spells are more thorough," Snape said shortly.

And less personal, Harry thought. He wasn't at all surprised that Snape chose this method, and was actually rather relieved. The thought of Snape poking about his bum with his fingers was very off- putting. Not that he was aroused at the moment, in any case.

Snape's hands were moving across his lower back now, rubbing soothing circles. "Would you prefer to keep the nightshirts on, or take them off?"

Harry felt slightly queasy at the idea of being starkers in bed with Snape and said hastily, "Keep them on. If that's all right."

"It makes no difference to me," Snape replied. His hands moved lower and then he sighed. "You will need to remove your underwear, however."

Harry flushed. He was once again grateful for the darkness as he pulled up his gown to remove the offending pants. Snape's hand stilled him as he would have tugged the gown back down into place, and he wondered just how clearly the other man could see in the dark.

"Leave it up," Snape said. "It will just get in the way."

"Right," Harry muttered and wondered if he could get any redder. Evidently he could, because when Snape's questing hand touched his prick, he could feel his skin burning and couldn't help jerking away. "What are you doing?"

Snape sighed. "It will make it easier for you if you are aroused, but if you'd rather I didn't..."

Harry cleared his throat. "All right, then. Go ahead, if you must."

"Thank you for that rousing approval," Snape said sourly, but he was touching Harry's prick again, so he supposed Snape couldn't be too upset with him.

It felt...odd to have someone else touching him like that, odd and somehow more intense than touching himself. Snape seemed to know exactly what to do, gripping him just the way he liked and efficiently stroking him to hardness. Harry's eyes slid shut as pleasure filled him, and he couldn't help moaning.

"Good," Snape's voice said near his ear, and his eyes flew open. He'd almost forgotten it was Snape doing this to him. Another series of strokes and he didn't care if it was Voldemort himself as long as he didn't stop doing that. A murmured instruction from Snape had him slide one leg forward, then something solid was nudging his backside.

"Breathe out and push out at the same time," Snape's voice instructed, then paused. "Potter, are you paying attention?"

"Mmmm," Harry agreed. He hadn't the faintest idea what Snape was saying, but it didn't matter. Pleasure was boiling through his veins, tingling along his skin.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin...Potter, obey me or I'll stop."

Snape sounded annoyed - and serious - so Harry retrieved enough brain cells to focus on doing what Snape had instructed. Something thick and hot pressed into him, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. It didn't hurt per se, but he felt uncomfortably full. Then Snape was stroking him again, firm and hard, and Harry forgot all about what was going on behind him in favour of his prick and the climax that was suddenly roaring down on him like a freight train.