RATED NC-17 and R for many chapters. Please Leave This Site If You Are Under 18.
This story is Adult in nature, with explicit language and includes graphic depiction of adult sexual behavior
and some depiction of violence.
Severus Snape Takes a Bride
Dumbledore, who would walk Welkin down the aisle, would also stand with Snape as best man. Minerva would likewise stand with Welkin. Everything appeared to be arranged for tomorrow.
As he replaced the rings in the pouch, Dumbledore poured two glasses of brandy and offered one to Snape. "To calm the bridegroom’s nerves," he told him.
"I am not nervous," Snape said, accepting the glass.
"Not even about the possibility that she might bolt and run at the last minute?" Dumbledore asked innocently.
Snape frowned at the older Wizard for planting the idea in his head, and assuring him of a sleepless night.
"Don’t worry Severus. I shall deliver her to the altar for you tomorrow, even if I have to trip her myself," Albus smiled and offered a toast. "To your bride..." "To Welkin..." Snape said, draining his glass nervously in one draught.
Hermione finished hooking into their tiny loops the last of the 40 small buttons that held closed the back of Welkin’s wedding gown, as Welkin put on her moonstone drop earrings.
"Something old," she indicated her dress, "something new," the earrings, "something borrowed," the Celtic design moonstone tiara from the Hogwarts Room of Requirement, to be worn with her veil, "and something blue," she raised the full skirt of her gown to reveal the blue-trimmed satin garter that encircled her left thigh.
"Is everything straight?" Welkin asked her bridesmaids, each girl looking fresh and lovely in their dusty rose satin dresses.
"You look just like a Fairy Princess," Luna said.
Welkin had chosen a circa 1940’s gown, not quite off the shoulder, gathered and detailed through the bust with embroidery and a few judiciously placed rosettes. The capped sleeves left her arms mostly bare. The bodice was very tight and fitted with light boning from the bust line to the waist. From the waistline the voluminous bell-shaped skirt fell to the floor in multiple layers of fabric. Toward the bottom half of the front of the gown was an antique appliqué of leaves and flowers in an elongated horseshoe shape and just below that, about a foot from the bottom, a plain satin ribbon encircled the circumference of the skirt, everything in a tone-on-tone ecru white, except the pale pink rosettes at the neckline.
The gown matched Severus’s Victorian style well, and for once she would have him out-buttoned, Welkin thought. It was going to take him forever to get her out of this dress tonight, she thought mischievously, picturing his frustration. He would get a taste of what it was like for her when she had to fumble with all of those buttons of his.
"It’s almost time," Hermione prompted her, efficiently helping her with the tiara and veil. As they finished, there was a knock and then Dumbledore’s voice at the door. "Welkin?" Albus asked, "Are you ready? It’s time to begin. The Great Hall is filled."
Ginny opened the door to admit him. Dumbledore looked at Welkin in the gown and smiled at her warmly. "If ever there was a more beautiful bride at Hogwarts I cannot recall it," he said gallantly, taking her arm to escort her.
Welkin was pretty sure that was bullshit, but it was the bullshit she needed to hear at the moment, and she was grateful for it. The closer they got to the Great Hall the more nervous Welkin became. As they paused outside to arrange the order of the pairs of bridesmaids and their escorts, Welkin peeked into the Hall and was aghast. Dumbledore really hadn’t exaggerated. The Great Hall was full to capacity. A wider center aisle had been cleared for the wedding march but the long tables at each side were full of faculty and guests and all the students of Hogwarts stood behind the tables on each side.
"I think I’m going to be sick," Welkin said, turning pale. She looked at Albus wide-eyed like a frightened deer. "What was I thinking? I don’t think I can…"
"Yes you most certainly can!" Minerva didn’t let her finish. "I thought we settled this a week ago?" she exploded in exasperation.
Welkin hadn’t been this frightened even when she was fighting off Lucius Malfoy. In fact, she couldn’t remember when she had ever been this frightened. Marriage was so...final. Why couldn’t things just stay the way they were?
"There is nothing to be afraid of," Albus told her firmly. "Just remember…you love Severus, and he loves you. Aren’t you the woman who promised to stand against the gates of hell for him?" he reminded her. "A little stroll down the aisle with me should be easy compared to that." He presented his arm to her and she took a few deep breaths and slowly allowed herself to be led into position.
Bagpipes began the procession of the bridesmaids and escorts: Draco paired with Luna, Ron with Hermione, and Harry with Ginny. As the couples were making their way down the aisle, Minerva folded Welkin’s veil over the tiara to cover her face, handed Welkin her bouquet of lilacs, white roses, and lavender, and left her with Albus, following the attendants and taking her own place before the altar. She glanced over and smiled at Snape, who was anxiously peering down the length of the Hall for his first view of his bride.
The piping ended and the traditional Wedding March began. Welkin, on Dumbledore’s arm, barely heard the whispers of admiration and assorted other low murmurings from the guests, as she marched and prayed that she didn’t trip or pass out before she got to the altar. As she got closer, she could see Severus through her veil, standing handsomely and resolutely in place. The sight of him made her feel a little better with each step. By the time she reached the altar she had regained most of her confidence.
Albus went to stand beside Severus and Minerva folded her veil back to reveal her face to the groom, before taking her place to the other side. Welkin was wearing a broad smile as she turned to face Severus.
The official from the Ministry blathered on with far too many words that Welkin was barely aware of, until finally, Severus began to recite his vows to her in his delicious, low British accent. "I, Severus Tobias Snape, take thee Welkin as my wedded wife…" Dumbledore passed the ring to him, as Snape was saying "and thereto I pledge thee my troth." Albus gave Welkin a wink, as Snape continued. "With this ring, I thee bind, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow." He took her hand and placed the ring on the appropriate finger.
Her turn - this was it - damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead, she thought. "I, Welkin Morgana Cooper, take thee Severus as my wedded husband…"
When she came to the end of the solemn vows, she slipped the ring that Minerva handed her onto Severus’s finger, grinning triumphantly at him, that she had been able to get through this without making a mad dash for the nearest exit.
The official pronounced them husband and wife and gave them leave to kiss. As if he’d be able to stop me, Welkin thought, impulsively flinging her arms around Snape’s neck as they kissed.
Ginny Weasley caught her bouquet, glancing sideways at Harry after securing it. Draco Malfoy caught her garter, flung by a very reluctant Snape.
Despite custom, Snape did not approve of such an intimate article, which had adorned his Welkin’s thigh, being dispensed to these lechers for use in what he suspected were their disgustingly prurient and salacious fantasies concerning his wife.
It hadn’t helped that Welkin had laughed at him and told him that he was being ridiculous. "Anyway, you know you’re the only man I want between my legs," she whispered in his ear. "Tonight, and every other night." Luckily his jacket concealed the effects of her words on him, but her assurances didn’t help his suspicions. Neither did the fact that Draco Malfoy cockily slid the garter over his shirt sleeve like an armband after snagging it.
Welkin sliced the first piece of wedding cake, with Severus guiding her hand, as tradition dictated. She wisely fought the urge to smear him with cake when they dutifully fed each other.
Someone from the Daily Prophet arrived to pose them together for a wedding photo for the Society Page, to Snape’s chagrin. Snape was also less than happy when dozens of men lined up to kiss his bride, glaring his way through the indignity, until it looked as though Lucius Malfoy might join the throng, then he jerked Welkin away on the pretense of leading the first dance.
As they danced, it was Welkin’s turn to be annoyed as she saw Lucius retrieve her garter from Draco’s arm, wait until he was sure she was watching, then raise it to his lips to kiss it, before placing it in the front pocket of his velvet jacket with an arrogant smirk. Best not to tell Severus, she thought, gritting her teeth in anger.
Snape watched glumly as now what seemed like hoards of men were determined to dance with his bride. The effrontery was getting to be too much for him. Welkin was his wife after all, and he was anxious to leave this tedious celebration and get her all to himself in their bedchamber.
"Have a piece of cake Severus," Dumbledore told him, handing him a plate and fork. "Welkin said to wish you a Happy Birthday. Very fortuitous, being married on your birthday. You’ll never have occasion to forget your anniversary."
A slice of cake and three glasses of wine later, and Welkin was still being monopolized by those buffoons. Snape navigated his way across the dance floor and commandeered his bride from her current dance partner, dancing her through the Hall and out the door.
"Our guests can enjoy the party without us," he told Welkin, grasping her hand. "I think it’s time to retire for the evening."
"I think that’s a great idea, oh husband of mine," Welkin agreed, following him quite obediently for once.
By the time they reached their quarters in the dungeon, down that long spiraling stone staircase, Welkin was a little out of breath, Snape was walking so fast. He opened the door to their private chambers and swept her up in his arms, remembering to carry her over the threshold, repeated the same into their bed chamber, then slammed the door and lunged at her.
"Don’t tear my dress! I want to save this! Severus, please…there are buttons in the back. Just undo the buttons. Don’t tear it. It will take a little patience but…"
Snape pulled out his wand and pointed at the back of her gown and all 40 tiny buttons obediently popped out of their loops at once. He jerked the gown down to the floor and lifted her out of it, as she hastily pulled off the veil and tiara and flung them into the corner, kicking off her bejeweled satin slippers as well.
Snape carried her to the large four poster bed and deposited her there. "Were you planning on saving these knickers as well?" he asked, indicating her lacy undergarment. "No, I…" He tore them off and started divesting himself of his garments.
"But Severus…I have a lovely nightgown that I picked out especially for tonight. Can’t you just let me…?"
"You can wear it later," he interrupted impatiently, now completely nude, and completely, undeniably erect. "As you can see, there is quite obviously no need for your seduction techniques tonight." He pushed her thighs further apart, positioning himself between them. "Are you ready for me, my wife?" he asked hoarsely, placing the tip of his thick ten inch erection against her slick slit. "Yes, my husband," she replied obediently, her voice filled with desire, waiting for him to fill her. He thrust himself into her up to the hilt, making her cry out at the rough invasion, and she wrapped her legs around him as he fucked her, rocking with his movements.
"Welkin, my wife…"
"Oh Severus…please…not again," Welkin groaned with her eyes closed. "I’m so tired," she pleaded.
Snape was amused, and more than a little pleased with himself at her admission that he had worn her out with his ardor for her last night. However, sex was not the reason for his waking her.
"Breakfast has arrived, my sweet," he announced. Welkin opened one bleary eye. "Breakfast? Is there coffee?"
"Yes, a pot of it."
"Will you bring me some?" she requested, reluctant to move.
"I shall do better than that," Snape said, stripping back the coverlet. Very early in the morning he had, at last, allowed Welkin to don her new rose colored nightgown, and he picked her up in it now and carried her to the table. Holding her in his lap he poured her a cup of coffee, stirred into it her accustomed two spoons of brown sugar, and presented it to her. "Since I am the cause of your current level of exhaustion, it is the least I can do," he admitted somewhat smugly.
"Mmmm…" she said, sipping from the cup, unable to articulate anything more.
"Poor Welkin," he teased, kissing the top of her head. "Marriage appears to be more than you bargained for."
"Jerk," she responded, taking another sip, then letting her head lean against his chest.
"Such impertinence to your lord and master," he continued needling her.
"Lord and Master?" That, at last, roused her. She sat up indignantly, nearly spilling hot coffee on them both. "That’ll be the day!" she huffed, but continued sitting in his lap and took a more bracing gulp of coffee. "I’m still me, you know, and nobody owns me except me, myself and I. Just because we’re married, it doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do. This is going to be an equal partnership and…what is this you’re wearing?" she asked, suddenly distracted from her lecture, looking curiously at his long, grey nightshirt.
"It’s my nightshirt," Snape arched an eyebrow at her.
"You look like Rasputin in that thing," Welkin observed, grinning broadly.
She spied the Daily Prophet on the breakfast tray and, distracted again, grabbed it. "Oh, is our picture in here?"
Welkin’s lightning quick changes of subject matter were something Snape was starting to get used to. In the beginning the trait had annoyed him intensely, as he himself was a very linear thinker. He had always considered that a more logical way of assessing things.
His conversations with Welkin, however, had long ago convinced him that she was a woman of superior intellect and reasoning abilities, despite her rather disjoint way of reaching conclusions, flippant way of expressing herself, and tendency towards letting her emotions run away with her. He had slowly come to appreciate that her seeming weaknesses were, in fact, strengths, affording her a uniquely creative way of looking at things, and a delightful wit. He was almost jealous of her. With the exception of his potions making skills, Snape did not consider himself to be a very creative person.
"Oh my god! What a couple of weirdoes!" Welkin had found their portrait on the Society Page. "You look like you want to kill somebody - probably that poor photographer - and I look like I’m far too happy about it. I’ve got way too many teeth." She showed him their picture.
"I like your smile," Snape said truthfully. It was, in fact, one of the things he found most attractive about her, paired with her tendency to smile at him. Nobody else ever seemed to.
"Thank you sweetness…and I’m sure I’d like your smile too, if I ever got to see it," Welkin teased him.
Snape had also been surprised, during their first week together, when they had talked each evening on her balcony after their frenzied lovemaking sessions, that Welkin genuinely seemed to enjoy his company; aside from his acknowledged ability to give her the most intense physical pleasure she had ever experienced.
It had been Dumbledore’s idea to magically create the balcony for Welkin, since there were no balconies attached to any of the living quarters at Hogwarts. Snape had been puzzled at his insistence, but the outdoors area, with it’s spectacular view, had proved to be most advantageous in what Snape now considered to be their courtship. In just three short weeks Welkin had become his lover, his best friend and confidant on that balcony, and at last, his wife. Severus Snape, the loneliest man at Hogwarts, was no longer alone.
"Oh god! Listen to this," Welkin said, reading from the newspaper account. "The former Miss Cooper hails from the United States of America, and is reputed to be from a Wizarding family of great antiquity… Where do they get this bullshit? I guess they didn’t want to say you lowered yourself to marry a mere Muggle."
She was silent for a few moments, then looked at him seriously. "You don’t feel that way do you? The way they obviously do…that you lowered yourself by marrying me? Are you ashamed of me, that I’m just a Muggle?"
"Of course not. Don’t ever think that. I am very proud to have you as my wife."
"Poor Severus. You got a bitch instead of a witch."
"You are not a bitch," he insisted.
"And you are not really an asshole, my handsome husband," Welkin said, leaning against him again, her head against his shoulder. "The verdict is still out on sex maniac."