All Does Go to Heaven, All Dogs Go to... Well, 1/1
Title: All Does Go to Heaven, All Dogs Go to... Well
Author: Bladed Darkness
Category: Harry Potter
Summary: He's a little nauseous when he realizes that he'll be related to Potter by marriage. A family reunion right before the wedding changes his opinion.
Characters: Severus Snape
Pairings: Harry/Hermione (mentioned)
Length: 1300+
Rating: PG-13 or T, take your pick.
He hadn't intended to find love when he'd left the wizarding world for the larger muggle one. Well, maybe it's not quite love, but he's not suffering and he could do worse.
She had bumped into him at the grocery store and hadn't been at all pleased about it. That encounter hadn't been very pleasant, in fact. He gave it no further thought once he was at home.
He's taking a walk in the park the next time they meet. There's a great bruiser of a dog with her this time, unleashed and terrorizing a few of the smaller children who venture too close to the pathway and the duo.
He sneers at a few of the children who try to hide behind him. Apparently that action catches her attention and she starts a conversation with him.
She's not much of a looker, but neither is he. She's in love with her dogs and he's, well, content for the first time in a while.
She's no Lily, but maybe he's too jaded for someone like her anyways. At least with Marge, he can lament interacting with the dunderheads that overpopulate the world.
-
He hates when Albus's wretched portrait suggests inviting Potter and his new wife Granger, but complies anyways. He supposes that he owes the brat something since he wouldn't be alive without their assistance. He can always throw them out if they attempt to ruin his wedding.
He's not inviting the Weasley however.
-
Filius convinces him that it's a good idea to have a get-together before the wedding. Since the guest list is small on both sides, it's not too much trouble to find someplace to hold them all. He doesn't bother to glance over Marge's invite list, knowing they will all be muggles and he won't recognize any of the names.
If he didn't have years of experience moving around simmering cauldrons in billowing robes, he's fairly certain he would trip when Potter shows up with Granger and greets his fiancee as 'Aunt Marge'.
He chugs his glass of champagne when he realizes he's going to related to Potter. To Potter. Of all the bloody people, it had to be Potter. At least it's by marriage.
-
“How is Ripper, Aunt Marge?” Potter asks.
“He's dead,” his fiancee replies. “And it's a bloody shame too. If he was here, he'd straighten you out and you'd be acting somewhat respectable.”
Severus stares at her. Seems like a lot to expect a dog to turn Potter into a respectable human being when even Hogwarts couldn't.
That's another thing he hasn't told his bride-to-be. Magic. Hogwarts. He intends to leave both behind after his wedding, settle down somewhere quiet.
Eventually most of the guests have shown up. He's been shuttled about to and fro, to the amusement of Minerva and Filius, being introduced to Marge's guests. Petunia and Marge's brother have yet to show up, and he's thankful for small miracles. He dares to wonder what Petunia would say if she knew the “greasy freak down the street” was about to become a member of the family.
Marge, and, by consequence, Severus himself, spend a lot of time talking with Potter.
“I'm so surprised to see you here, boy. I didn't invite you.”
Potter attempts a smile, though he can tell it's more of a grimace. “Professor Snape invited us, Aunt Marge.”
“Professor Snape?” He's briefly insulted at the incredulous tone Marge has taken.
“University,” Granger supplies helpfully. “He teaches chemistry and home economics. Cooking specifically.” Pomona smirks at the tactful truth hidden in the lie. There's a slight huff in Granger's voice, as if she believes that Marge certainly doesn't know enough of Severus to be marrying him.
“Riding an invite on your wife's coattails, boy? Just like your worthless father, aren't you boy? My dear brother taking you in, when you should've been dropped off at an orphanage.”
“Yes. I'm grateful every day that Petunia convinced him to get me back out of the trash bin.” Potter drolls.
“You'll watch your mouth, boy, and address your betters properly. She's your Aunt Petunia, and she tried to raise you a ruddy lot better than your drunken good-for-nothing parents would've been able to. Dear Vernon would never get himself offed in a car crash.”
What is she on about? Car crash? Is that what these muggles believe happened to Potter and Lily? What rot.
He sees Minerva, Filius, and Pomona off to the side, looking confused. Granger is biting her tongue, but her eyes are sparking, much like Lily's used to.
Potter's eyes, so much like Lily's, betray nothing.
Then he remembers that Marge is related to someone that married Petunia, and Severus gets an inkling that perhaps leaving Potter with his relatives may not have been the best idea Albus has ever had.
“You're not still freeloading off Vernon, are you?”
“No Aunt Marge.”
“Good. Maybe St. Brutus' fixed some of the problems brought on by your poor pedigree. 'Course there's only so much discipline and training can correct, especially with cases like yours.”
“St. Brutus'?” Granger asks, and Severus is glad that he's not the only one confused. Granted, most of the room from his side is entirely lost. Muggles were concerned with blood status as well?
Marge snorts into her glass of champagne. “No, I suppose your husband wouldn't tell you about that. Hiding his failings, no doubt. The boy attended St. Brutus' for Incurably Criminal Boys.”
Is that what they call Hogwarts nowadays?
Marge continues, “Of course, even if your father was a shiftless layabout, he's not entirely to blame.” She shifts her gaze over to Granger. “You're just like her, you know.”
“Excuse me?”
“The boy's mother. The one without a lick of sense.”
Is she talking about...?
“No, she's at fault for most of your problems, boy. The mother's always at fault. Not that the hussy would know much about that.”
How dare she...!
“I've heard all about how she thieved off Petunia and how you picked up those traits. Stealing food from my poor little nephew and beating him up. Shameful. That kind of behavior isn't learned but ingrained. You either get it or you don't.”
Why!
“Surely you remember your lessons, boy. C'mon, what's the rule?” Marge presses.
Potter stares at her for a moment. Minerva appears horrified, but reluctant to intervene. Then in an icy voice, he replies, “If it's in the bitch, it'll be in the pup.”
Crack!
He watches everyone's heads swivel around as one to stare at him. He winces but wipes the furious expression from his face and clutches the broken glass tighter.
“Forgive me,” Severus murmurs, stepping from the room. He shakes the glass out of his hand into the trash can before bracing himself against the counter and breathing heavily.
Regaining his composure, he walks back out to stand beside a waiting Marge. With calm smoothness, he takes her hand.
And then pulls the ring off.
Idly he notices over Marge's protests that the rest of the Dursleys have arrived and are watching the spectacle, but he can't bring himself to more than sneer at Petunia. She recognizes the action however.
“You!” she screeches and Severus recoils.
“You know him?” Marge asks, a little startled.
Petunia appears close to foaming at the mouth. “Of course I recognize him! Always trailing after Lily like a lost puppy! Trying to impress her with the most freaky things!”
The word triggers a reaction and Petunia's husband puffs up at this. “I won't stand for more freakishness in this family! Infiltrating my home and now my family,” he mutters.
Severus holds the ring up. “Just as well. I was leaving anyways.” He tries to ignore the slight glint of appreciation in Potter's eye as he heads towards the exit, leaving the guests to mingle with each other.
He bumps into Arabella Figg as he's leaving and somehow strikes up a conversation.