Disclaimer: All of the characters are MINE! Mine, I tell you! Lawyers march in waving several documents and glaring at Saerry. Okay, okay! So, they're not ALL mine. But most of them are! Sticks tongue out the 3vil lawyers and hugs all her OC's. NYAAAA!!!!

Haunted by the whispers,

the shadows in the past.

Haunted by the memories

of the battle's aftermath.

Old pains forge anew

as the past is relived,

soul aching as the memories come through.

Haunted by the shadows,

the ghosts in the walls.

Haunted by the spirits,

of those lost in the fall.

When shall this haunting end?

And leave a poor soul to mend?

Haunted – Sequel to Not Myself

By Saerry Snape (& her muses)

Author's Notes

Well, here we are! The sequel to NM. Isn't it wondrous?

Atra: Absolutely bloody spiffing.

Bryv: Ignore him, he's sulking.

Saer: Only because he's the one that got blamed for Severus' death.

Mel: Who's idea was that, by the way?

Mine. Although I'm sure Atra had something to do with it.

Atra: Sneers. Contrary to popular belief, I have no wish to kill off the character I'm modeled after.

Mel: How come he's the only one that's modeled after someone, anyway?

'Cause I love Sev. Even though I killed him. But we're not here to talk about that.

Severus: You're damn right, you're not! There's umpteen more of me running around in Saerry's head from various other stories, so there's really no need to mourn over me.

Harry: Hey, there's umpteen more of me too!

Niamh: You guys are the most interesting of them though.

Sev & Harry: Bow. Thank you.

AH! You three, get out of my head!

Harry: Hey, we live here too!

Mika: Yeah!

Oh gods. Someone shoot me now…

Also! Some bits of this are BEFORE the epilogue in NM. So don't get confused!

Chapter 1 – Haunted by the Whispers


"What's he yelling about now?" grumbled Niamh O'Feir as she poked her head out of her door. Her blue eyes focused sleepily on a tall, shadowy figure that was standing silently at the second floor balcony of the rebuilt Ashdeir Fierion manor.

"Slytherin knows," replied the shadowy figure that was Harry Snape. "Go back to sleep."

"Can't. Awake now," mumbled Niamh, making her way over to him. She looped her arms about his waist and pressed her body against his bare chest, sighing contentedly. "Mmm. Better."

Harry chuckled and laid his hands on her waist as he bent his head, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"Wench," he whispered lovingly.

"Pig," she murmured back. "How many more days?"


"Slytherin's drawers…"

"Now now," said Harry with a chuckle, his emerald eyes dancing. "I've told Drake a hundred times that Slytherin would be insulted to hear his drawers talked about in such a manner."

"Screw Slytherin."

"And here I thought you only wanted to screw me."

Niamh's eyes narrowed and she gave him a hard thump on his shoulder.

"Take that back, Harry."

"Why?" asked Harry. "I know you're dying to."

"You're one to talk."


"Good gods," grumbled Harry. He leaned over the balcony, one hand on it to steady him whilst the other remained on Niamh's waist, and shouted, "What is it, Sirius?"


"Birds?" said Niamh in confusion.

Only want to play! exclaimed Bramwell as he and his brothers appeared along with their sister. The five birds landed on the balcony rail near Harry's hand, ten bright eyes focused on him. Did not mean harm to the Dog.

"I know that, Bram," said Harry, his voice a little choked. He looked at Jardin's five chicks, all now four years old and completely content to reside with their deceased father's bondmate.

Fatherbond alright? asked Briana, rustling her silver flecked wings. Her amber eyes bored into Harry as he looked at her.

"Quite alright, Bri," he whispered. "Why don't you guys go visit your mother? I'm sure she'd like that."

Yes yes! chirped Barnabas, bobbing up and down. Visit mother!

Follow, said Bartholomew solemly, taking wing. His brothers and sister followed him and they vanished as one, leaving the couple on the balcony alone once more.

"Are you okay?" asked Niamh after a moment.

"No," replied Harry, closing his eyes as his soul cried out in a two-year old pain.

Niamh winced as that deep pain grated against her mental walls, nearly drowning her in its intensity. She hugged her fiancé tightly to her, sending him emotions full of warmth and love. His arms tightened about her a second later and she felt him shudder almost violently.

It had been just over two years since that last battle at Hogwarts. How a handful of Aurors and half-trained teenagers (as well as one Elven-trained young man) had defeated Voldemort and his Death Eaters none of them truly knew. It was a sheer miracle that they had survived and had not lost more than they had.

But even though two years had passed, pain still lingered in Harry's eyes and weighed heavily upon his mind. As it did with all of them.

However, the pain of losing both his father and his bondmate in one fell swoop had nearly shattered the man who was her best friend and the love of her life. And who, in four days time, would officially, legally, and indubitably be hers as her husband.

"Love?" she said softly.

"It's been two years," whispered Harry. "Why does it still hurt?"

"I don't know," whispered Niamh back. She then pulled back from him as she felt his half-uncle's presence slide across her mind. He came down the staircase leading up to the third floor a moment later and froze as he saw them.

Harry looked up and forced a smile, waving the blonde-haired man forward. His hands then fell back to his fiancée's waist, pulling her against him.

Etienne Daladier, his blonde hair tied in an unkempt braid, approached his nephew and soon-to-be niece slowly. Stopping a few feet away from them, he ran a hand over his hair and asked, "What was Black roaring about this morning?"

"The chicks were in his rooms," replied Niamh.

"Again? They do enjoy visiting with him, don't they? Their…what do they call him?"

"Dog," replied Harry.

"Yes," said Etienne, nodding. "Do they call everyone by an animal name?"

"Mostly. Drake is Dragon, Hermione is Dragon Mate, Ron is Fox Brother, Gin is Fox, Mik is Wolf, Sirius is Dog, Nev's Gryphon, Manda's Gryphon Mate, Tom's Loner, Cha's Silver, I'm Fatherbond, and Ni's Wraith."

" 'Wraith?' " repeated Etienne, arching an eyebrow at the young woman.

Niamh shrugged and laughed, saying, "I suppose because I have such wrath when I'm pissed off."

"And what do they call me?"


Etienne blinked and his right hand lifted almost involuntarily to touch a small bulge that lay under his shirt. "Really…"

"Sir?" said Niamh, frowning at him.

"Please, Niamh, call me Etienne. After all, I'll be your uncle-in-law soon." He chuckled then looked at Harry, asking, "Do you know why they call me that?"

Harry shrugged and replied, "I don't know why they call half of us what they do. Jar did it too sometimes but not like they do."

"Indeed," said Etienne, noting the tightness in his nephew's face as he spoke of the deceased raven. "Well…since its morning, breakfast seems in order, doesn't it? Why don't we all go down and I'll whip up something…"

"You don't have to do that, Uncle…"

"Nonsense," said Etienne, cutting his nephew off. "Besides, after you taste my eggs, you'll be begging me to cook every morning instead of that house-elf you insisted on employing."

Harry blinked after the man as he descended the stairs to the main floor then laughed softly. Looking down at the woman in his arms, he said, "I think he was bragging, don't you?"

"Just a little," replied Niamh with a smirk.

"Heh. Well, let me grab a shirt and we'll head down. Maybe the smell of food will rouse Sirius out of his hole."

"Leave the shirt. I like you without it."

"I know you do, love," murmured Harry, lightly kissing her cheek. "And you'll have plenty of opportunity to see it soon."

"What about the rest of you?" shot Niamh as he disappeared into his room. "I haven't seen that!"

"Later, love, later."


"Wench," replied Harry as he reappeared, tugging a black t-shirt over his head. When Niamh giggled, he looked down and saw the phrase 'ph33r m3' sprawled across his chest in white block lettering. The t-shirt, if he recalled correctly, had been a birthday gift from Thomas.

"Fear you?" said Niamh in a teasing tone.

"Oh but yes," purred Harry, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards him. He bent his head and kissed her gently before grasping her about the waist and throwing her over his shoulder. Niamh squealed and beat her fists on his back, her feet flailing in the air as he descended the stairs.

"Harry, put me down!"



- - -

Later that day…

"Where'd Niamh run off to?" asked Sirius as he entered the study where his godson (and cousin) sat writing. He looked about the huge room as he entered it, once again marveling at it. The huge room was practically a small library, filled with magical and Muggle books of every sort, as well as a large oak desk with clawed feet. A fireplace big enough for Niamh to stand in sat between the two large, stained-glass windows that took up the back of the room. The desk was situated in one corner, the right side of it towards the fireplace, and in the other corner sat a comfy looking loveseat as well as two well-worn chairs and a small table. Two more chairs sat in front of the fireplace, their velvet covering softly reflecting the flickering flames.

Harry looked up from his work and smiled at his godfather before replying.

"Mione, Gin, and Manda came by after breakfast," he said. "Promptly dragged her off to do some shopping."

"Ah. Nervous?"

"As hell."

Sirius chuckled and turned one of the chairs away from the fire to face Harry. He sprawled into it, folding his hands over his stomach, and said, "Nothing to be nervous about. Just a wedding."

"Not just a wedding, Sirius," said Harry. "My wedding. To Ni. Slytherin, I never thought I'd be saying that…"

"Why not?"

Harry just smiled in a humored way and replied, "Sirius, when you grow up on the streets, you don't expect to live too long. Hell, I never expected to make it past my eighteenth birthday let alone live long enough to get married!"

Sirius just looked at him in shock.

"And this was before you learned you were a wizard?"

Harry nodded solemnly and Sirius just blinked.

"Sweet Merlin, Harry…"

"It's the way we all grew up," said Harry offhandedly, trying to get the conversation away from his past. It brought up too many bad memories – mainly one's about Tyls. "Can't change it."

"I wish we could have."

"You're not the only one," muttered Harry. He then coughed and said, "So…did you go and pick up your robes?"


"Good. Ni'll kill me if you end up showing up in something that should be burnt."

Sirius laughed then leaned forward slightly to look at what the younger man was writing.

"That the book?" he asked curiously.


"How far have you gotten?"

"Second year," came the reply. "After I found out about Da."

Harry looked up suddenly and asked, "Why did I agree to write down my seven years at Hogwarts again?"

"Posterity?" said Sirius. "Or was it that too many people are curious about your life?"

"The second I believe. Damned reporters… At least Skeeter's not around any more."

"How did she die? I've heard rumors that you were involved."

"Not really. Parkinson did the damage."

"Ah," said Sirius. "Why don't you take a break? Its nearly lunchtime and that uncle of yours is cooking something that smells amazing."

Harry lifted his head, frowning at his uncle from under his dark fringe.

"We're not turning Uncle Eti into our cook, Siri. That's Marly's job."

"He doesn't know she was Snape's elf, does he?"

"Not in the slightest. And damnit, now you've made me hungry! Curse you, Sirius Black."

Sirius grinned brightly and said, "Well then my job is complete! Let's go bother your uncle."

"Bother him too much and he might not feed you," joked Harry as he rose to his feet.

"Ha! I'd like to see him try and keep me away from food."

"So would I."

"Should I be insulted?" asked Sirius as they left the study.

Harry just shrugged as they continued towards the kitchens.

- - -

Three more days…



"Where are my shoes?"

Harry rolled his eyes and looked out through the door of his study to see his godfather dashing about wildly on the second floor.


The Animagus ground to a halt and stared down at him, his blue eyes wild. His dark hair was unkempt and springing out of the tail it was usually tied back into, falling in limp strands onto his leather-clad shoulders.

"Have you tried your closet?" asked Harry, giving the man a slight glare.

Sirius blinked then mumbled, "Good idea." He transformed and bounded down the stairs, racing away towards his rooms. Harry shook his head then jumped when he heard Mika's shout.


Moaning, the dark-haired wizard rose from his seat and went out to greet his friend.

The white-haired werewolf had apparently came in through the back door, which was in the same direction as Sirius' rooms. And in the small hallway that led in that direction (originally a servant's hallway according to the manor's blueprints) it was hard for the slightly stocky wizard to avoid being ran over by a very large black dog.

"I do hate that dog," growled Mika as he saw Harry. His normal eye was nearly amber instead of its usual brown with it being so close to the moon and it greatly contrasted the red, Elven-made orb that had taken the place of his lost eye. Harry winced inwardly as he saw the pale claw scars that marred that side of his friends face. "So…how go things?"

"I could ask you the same thing," said Harry, his eyes narrowing slightly. He knew his friend was having trouble with the Ministry currently over the stupid rule that werewolf's could not marry. Mika and Ginny Weasley were still hopelessly smitten with each other and had been fighting the Ministry for the past year. They wanted so much to get married and live the life they wanted but the MOM was full of fools who couldn't have hit the broad side of a barn with an Avada Kedavra.

They told Ginny to forget Mika, to find some nice normal wizard and settle down. But a Weasley – especially one who had been in Slytherin – was not going to follow an order to forget the man she loved.

And she was quite capable of fighting just as fiercely as her werewolf boyfriend.

"Its not going well," said Mika, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That prat who registered me after I was bitten – Quint or whatever his name was – called me on the Floo this morning. Told me that if I didn't cease my foolish prattle about being allowed to marry, Gin and I would both be thrown into the Ministry dungeons with the hope to never make it out again. And he called Gin mad. Mad! Said that any woman who wanted to willingly marry a werewolf – a beast – should be declared clinically insane! The nerve!"

"Damn," growled Harry, running a hand back through his long bangs. "Surely there's something we can do!"

"Apparently not," grumbled Mika. "Its hopeless, Harry. We might as well give up…"

"No! You are not going to give up, Mik. You're a Slytherin, damnit! We don't give up that easily!"

"I know…but I don't want Gin to end up in the Ministry dungeons. Do you know what they did to the accused Death Eater's in those dungeons during Voldemort's rise?" He shuddered as he continued, "They were more horrible than the things the Death Eater's did! I'm just glad my father was a part of the capturing crew rather than the questioning one. I know they were particularly brutal. Except for…"

"My father," finished Harry, his eyes darkening with pain.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

"Stop right there," snapped Harry. "We're talking about things we can change, not one's we can't. And I intend to see that damned rule changed! Not only for you but for other werewolves who want nothing more than to live the normal life that is denied to them for being what they are!"

Mika smiled slightly and said, "Thanks, mate."

"No need to thank me, Mik. You and Gin were meant for each other. And Hell can take anyone who can't see that."

"Will you send them on their way yourself?"

"Damn right, I will!" replied Harry with a slight laugh in his voice. He threw an arm companionably about his friend's shoulder and said, "C'mon and have a seat in the study. We can discuss your problem and you can help me with mine."

"Your book, you mean?"

"Uh-huh. I've got all of what Ni remembers from fifth year, now I need you."

"What about everyone else?"

"That will come later, my friend. Now sit. Tell."

- - -

Two more days…

Harry walked into the kitchen and halted when he saw the woman standing in the middle of the large room. Curly brown hair cascaded to her waist, framing her plain but pretty face in a dark halo. Her almost honey colored eyes brightened as she chatted enthusiastically with the house-elf helping her fix something. She had a few flour stains on her periwinkle blue shirt and a handprint stood out in white on her swollen belly.

The dark-haired wizard coughed softly, causing the woman and the house-elf to look up in surprise.

"Master Harry!" cried Marly, her blue eyes brightening. "You is just in time for breakfast!"

"Indeed," said Harry. He smiled slightly and nodded at the woman saying, "Morning, Mione."

"Morning!" chirped the six months pregnant woman, her eyes glowing with warmth. "What do you want? Bacon, eggs, biscuits…leftover pizza?"

Harry laughed outright and replied, "Give me a little of it all. I swear I could eat a horse."

"I hope not," said Hermione with a smile as Marly ushered her and her master towards the expansive kitchen table. "So, how are things?"


"Things usually aren't fine before your wedding."

"Okay," said Harry. "So I'm nervous as hell. Everything's still fine."

That brought a laugh out of Hermione, one that echoed through the kitchen. She then abruptly stopped and frowned, causing Harry to lean forward.

Obviously she had forgotten what she had been laughing about. Silently the dark-haired wizard cursed the Death Eater's who had injured his friend. They were all lucky that she had not gone insane from the number of Cruciatus Curse's cast upon her during the last battle.


"Hmm? Oh, hi, Harry. Breakfast?"

"Already have it, dear."

Hermione frowned in confusion then her face fell. She murmured, "I did it again, didn't I?"

Harry nodded slightly and the bushy-haired witch sighed. She laid both her hands on her swollen belly and said, "I'm frightened, Harry."

"Of what?"

"Frightened that I may forget my own child after they're born."

Harry smiled and reached across the table to take one of her hands in his own.

"I don't think you could ever forget your own child," he said reassuringly. "And don't forget, you have all of us here to remind you if you do. So you really can never forget."

Hermione smiled brightly at him and squeezed his hand tightly.

"Thank you, Harry."

"Anything for a friend."

"Breakfast, Master!" chirped Marly as a plate appeared in front of Harry.

"Thank you, Marly."

The house-elf bobbed her head then began to vigorously clean the kitchen. Hermione watched her with a slight frown as Harry bit into the leftover pizza.


"What?" said the witch, turning towards him. When he tilted his head slightly, she glared at him, saying, "Oh hush! You know I don't like house-elves being so much like slaves."

Harry nodded and said, "I know. But you also know that Marly loves work, just like most house-elves do. I hope you haven't already freed the elves at the Keep. Drake would be perturbed."

"I tried."


"Miserably," she said with a sigh. "I just don't understand it."

Harry smiled at that and leaned forward to pat her hand.

"Don't then," he suggested. "Just live with it."

"Have I ever told you that you give horrid advice?"

"What do you expect with me living with Sirius?"

Hermione laughed at that, causing Harry to grin widely before he dug into his breakfast.

- - -

One more day…

"Harry? Harry!"

"Yes?" said Harry, walking out of his study to see Ginny standing at the top of the staircase. She was glowering darkly at him and he wondered what on earth he'd done wrong. He'd been writing for the past three hours, so it couldn't be anything big…

"Sirius ruined his robes."

"Slytherin's Serpent," murmured the dark-haired wizard. He ran a hand back through his hair then said, "Well! Are they beyond repair?"

"Merlin himself couldn't fix the damage he's done."

"Wonderful. Do you think we could beg Madam Malkin to make another pair for him?"

Ginny frowned then came down the stairs, shaking her head.

"I'll Floo her," she said wearily. "Oh, and remind me not to invite Sirius to my wedding. If me and Mik even have one, that is…"

Harry gave her a sad smile and said, "I intend to see you do, Gin."

"Harry, you've got next to no standing in the magical world. Even less than we Weasley's do! No one's going to listen to the son of the Snape's!"

"I'll see they do listen," growled Harry, striding towards her. He grasped her by her elbows and gave her a gentle shake. "I know what half our world thinks of me and my family, Gin. To some of them, I'm as bad as a Muggleborn – as bad as Ni or Mione. I know it'll be hard but I'm perfectly willing to go through the hardship to see you and Mik – as well as any other werewolf – get your chance to be together legally. Hell, I know you'd do the same for me."

The redhead laughed merrily and lifted herself up onto her tiptoes to kiss him chastely on the side of his mouth (being as that was as far as she could reach). Her fingers grasped his and squeezed them gently as she said, "Thanks, mate. You always know how to make me feel better."

Harry grinned at that.

"And I'm not even an empath."

"Prat," scolded Ginny. "I'll go see if I can get ahold of Madam Malkin now. Hopefully she can whip up a pair of robes before the wedding tomorrow."

"Gods, I hope so," said Harry, running a hand back through his hair. "Sirius doesn't have any good robes."

"Well…isn't he about the same height as your uncle?"

"About an inch shorter. Why?"

Ginny grinned as she replied, "Worst case scenario, he has to borrow one of your uncle's robes. He's fashionable."

Harry arched an eyebrow at that and asked, "How do you know my uncle's fashionable?"

"He's French, isn't it?"


"Details, details."

"Heh. And what in all nine hells makes you think Uncle Eti will let Sirius borrow one of his good robes? Those things are expensive as Hell!"

Ginny just smiled over her shoulder at him as she vanished into the main den that held the largest fireplace in the manor.

"I suppose you'll have some begging to do, won't you?"

She waved and grinned brightly at him before she disappeared into the room. He stood there staring after her for a moment, only moving when he heard a fire roar to life.

Chuckling, he shook his head and muttered, "Sprightly chit," before returning to his writing.

- - -

The big day…

"Is this all of the family?"

"Where are the flowers?"

"What happened to my cake?!"

"Slytherin's drawers, they're noisy," grumbled Draco as he closed the door on the shouting voices. Harry shook his head as he looked up from helping Ron fix a tear in his dark blue robes.

The three of them stood in Harry's study; the desk, chairs, and table covered in robes and pairs of shoes. Niamh and the other girls were down the corridor in the main den getting ready. Since they'd begun planning their wedding, the two of them had decided to have it within the manor that had become their home.

Or not exactly within it. The wedding would take place outside on the grounds within the sight of a small cemetery placed on the grounds. Within the cemetery were two graves: that of Shalay Snape and her only son, Severus. A memorial stood next to the graves, a statue of a raven with a snake entwined about its neck perched atop the black marble pedestal. It memorialized the raven Jardin and Hedwig the snake, who had not lived long after their graduation being only a normal garden snake.

Their wedding would take place within the sight of Harry's father and grandmother as well as the two creatures that had been his companions throughout his school years – being as the statue atop their memorial was actually the bodies of the two creatures set into stone and not simply a statue.

"I had no idea a wedding could be this difficult," said Ron as Harry cursed at his robes.

Draco just laughed at that and said, "Wait till you get married, Weasley. You'll see how difficult it is."

Mika scoffed at that as he entered the room, closing the door carefully behind him.

"I shall enjoy seeing Ron getting married. More importantly, I'll like to see who marries him."


"Don't. Move," growled Harry, jabbing the redhead with his wand. "Or I'll end up sewing this tear to your thigh."

Ron swallowed hard and held himself stock-still as Harry muttered a charm over the rip in the navy robes. The cloth glowed for a moment then sealed itself together slowly but surely.

"There. It should hold until the end of the ceremony."

"You mean it won't stay fixed?"

"I'm no good with household charms," said Harry. "Not good at cleaning either."

"Oh, I bet Niamh loves that," said Mika.

"She's messier than I am, Mik. And she didn't grow up in the slums."


A gentle knock came at the door and the white-haired werewolf turned to open it, peering at the person on the other side. He smiled slightly and swung it wide open, allowing Hermione to enter.

She was dressed in simple light blue robes that had a number of silver and royal blue threads woven together tied to her left shoulder. The threads represented the Malfoy House and were an old fashioned way of recognizing a member of it – as well as the other old, prominent Houses. Their pattern, an intricate matter of two braided loops, signified that she was the wife of the current head of the Malfoy Line. Draco had a pair of the same color threads in a different pattern on his right shoulder, which signified him as the head of the Malfoy Line.

Harry and Mika also had such threads on their right shoulders; the dark-haired wizard's in the Snape colors of dark green and black and the werewolf's in the white and gray of the Moody House. Mika's was also in the loops of the head of the Line, as his father had died unexpectedly a year earlier.

"How are you, Mione-love?" asked Draco as he pulled his wife close, pressing a kiss into her hair. His other hand brushed over her swollen stomach and his smile widened as he felt a kick in response to his touch.

"Quite fine, thank you, love," replied Hermione. She then looked at her three friends and her jaw practically dropped. "My God…I am in the presence of four of the most handsome men in the wizarding world."

Ron blushed at the comment, his ears turning as red as his hair, while Mika and Harry just laughed.

Mika chuckled and said, "Come now, Mione…we're not handsome. Especially not me." He waved a hand at his fake eye and the scars that had taken the original.

"You let Gin hear you say that and she'll skin you alive," commented Harry. He then turned to Hermione and asked, "Is Ni ready yet?"

"Ready and impatient to get this over with. She wishes the two of you had just eloped."

"By the end of this day, so will I," grumbled Harry. "But it'll be worth it."

"'Course it will, mate," said Ron with a grin. "You'll finally be able to legally shag each other senseless."

Harry mock-glared at his friend as Mika cuffed the man lightly on the shoulder.

"What?" asked Ron as Draco chuckled. Harry just shook his head and headed for the door, Draco and Hermione following him.

Ron blinked and looked cluelessly at Mika, who glared at him.

"Well, its true," said the redhead.

"You have no tact at all, you know that, right?"



With that Mika swept out of the room, leaving Ron to blink a few times before he dashed after the werewolf.

- - -

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…"

I'm so nervous, said Niamh mentally to the man standing across from her.

Harry quirked a smile at her and said, You're not the only one.

And I always thought there'd never be a thing for you to be nervous about…

"…to join this man and woman…"

Not true, said Harry. I'm shaking.

Niamh chuckled mentally at that.

I'm glad to know I can make the great Lord Hex shiver.

My Lady, you do more than make me shiver, said Harry with a mental grin.

"…in the bonds of holy matrimony…"

Must it go this slow? asked Niamh.

Its ceremony, Ni. They take time.

Bah. I hope all ceremonies are ass-raped by leprechauns.

Harry blinked at that then chuckled softly.

"Do you, Harold Jamison Snape, take this woman to be your lawful, wedded wife? To have and to hold through sickness and in health?"

"I do," said Harry, smiling down at Niamh.

"And do you, Niamh Wencia O'Feir, take this man to be your lawful, wedded husband? To have and to hold through sickness and in health?"

"I do," whispered Niamh breathlessly, her blue eyes sparkling.


"Right here, old chap," said Mika, stepping forward to hand a pair of simple silver bands to Harry. He then stepped back into line with Draco and Ron as the three of them were acting as Harry's best men. Hermione, Ginny, and Amanda stood across from them as Niamh's bridesmaids.

Harry grinned as he took the rings, slipping Niamh's onto her finger as she did the same to him.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride, Mr. Snape."

"Don't mind if I do," whispered Harry as he bent his head, Niamh meeting him halfway. Cheers went up as they kissed and Niamh said mentally, Your mine now.

As Harry leaned back he smiled down at her, his emerald eyes shining with an odd light.

"My lady, I would not have it any other way."

"Good," said Niamh as she pulled him down for another kiss.

Author's Note

The ass-raping by leprechauns comment is courtesy of my boyfriend Justin.