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"Severus?"

Severus, sitting on the edge of the narrow bed in the bedroom Molly had assigned him in the Burrow, looked up at the door where Ginny Weasley stood.

"You're not dressed yet."

She was stating the obvious. He was wearing formal grey trousers and a simple white vest. Formal robes – the best he'd ever owned – were hanging on a peg on the wall.

"I could say the same for you."

She smiled, then stepped into the room, turning to close the door behind her.

"Mum won't let me put on my dress until the very last minute," she said. "But I'm ready – except for Aunt Muriel's tiara. What's your excuse, then?"

Severus looked up at her, approving of the simple makeup and hairstyle. A good fit. A perfect spouse for Harry.

"I have none. I was just – thinking."

"About Harry?" Ginny stood in front of his robes and ran her fingers over the embroidered trim.

"No, about Neville Longbottom," he deadpanned.

She smiled. "Are you worried about him?" She dropped her hand to her side and faced him. "About us? Any more than normal, anyway?"

"I shall be worried about him – about both of you now – until the day I die," he stated. "That, at least, has not changed."

"You know what I mean, Severus. Is it about us? Getting married? Do you think we're too young?"

"Of course you're too young!" He didn't snap, not exactly. But she had asked. "You could be thirty-five and I'd still think you too young."

She smiled, understanding, and dropped to sit on the floor in front of him, crossing her legs comfortably. "You recall that we did ask for – and receive – your blessing."

He met her gaze steadily, remembering how nervous the two of them had been. "I recall."

"And we waited the entire year you requested – plus two extra months."

"But not as long as your brother and Miss Granger."

"They're getting married in four months, Severus."

"I know. Far too young."

She laughed. "We're both gainfully employed –"

"In two of the most dangerous professions in the Wizarding world."

"I'll be retiring soon," she said. "Within a year, most likely."

He stared at her, realizing the implications of her statement. His stomach flip-flopped. "And Harry?" he snapped, hiding the emotion behind his usual façade.

"You're more nervous than either one of us, Severus," she said, rising to her knees and taking hold of both of his hands. "Look at my parents – they're perfectly fine."

"Perfectly fine? Molly Weasley's only daughter is being married today. She is not perfectly fine. I've provided her with a week's supply of stomach calming potion already."

Ginny squeezed his hand and leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Right. I'll give you that one. Not at all fine. But Dad's doing - " She paused as he raised an eyebrow. "Right. Dad's a mess too."

"Given that the bride's parents are not fine, is the groom's father allowed a bit of not fine as well?"

"Severus – you know this changes nothing. Harry and I have practically been living with each other for a year now already. We'll both be living in his flat, and Ron is moving in officially with Hermione, but you know all this already."

“Ginevra- Ginny.” Severus was shaking his head. “This changes everything. I spent the first thirty five years of my life as a single man – a bachelor – unattached. Then – well, then there was Harry. And for eight years, he has been, for all intents and purposes – my son. My only child. I've never had a spouse or a significant other – I've only ever had Harry. And he – on his own, with only a moderate amount of help from you – has proven to be more than enough to keep me busy."

"You don't have to worry about me, Severus," Ginny told him. "My parents do that already, and Harry too, and my brothers."

He shook his head, eyes on his soon to be daughter-in-law. "You have been my concern as my student, and as Harry's girlfriend," he said. "You will now move into a permanent position in my – my family." He paused, released a breath. "You will be my son's wife, his partner, the mother of my – of my grandchildren. You cannot – you cannot tell me I don't have to worry about you. You are family." He took her hand in his own. "Family, Ginny. And I do not take the gift, the responsibility, lightly."

Ron had been given the responsibility of making sure Harry was fully dressed when he arrived at the Burrow, and that he arrive precisely at three thirty in the afternoon. He had also been directed to make sure Harry ate lunch, and that neither one of them drank anything stronger than butterbeer before the ceremony.

"I'm just glad you're doing this first," Ron told him as they sat in their flat at two thirty, both of them showered but neither of them dressed in their formal robes.

"Do you have the ring? Maybe I shouldn't have given it to you so soon. Why don't you let me hold it until we get there?" Harry stood suddenly, wiped his sweaty hand against his shirt then held it out to Ron.

"Yes I have the ring. Of course I have it. Do you think my sister would ever let me forget it if I lost her wedding ring before the ceremony? I'd have bogeys flying out my nose for the rest of my life, Harry." He shuddered at the thought.

"Right. Sorry. Nerves." Harry sank back into the chair, fingers tapping on the arm nervously. "Tell me again – why aren't we having a double wedding?"

Ron laughed. "Because Ginny and Hermione couldn't agree on dresses, colours, venues, cake – anything," he said. "Don't tell me you've forgotten the argument about bubbles and butterflies?"

Harry grinned. Ginny wanted to release a thousand butterflies at the end of the ceremony. Hermione refused to potentially harm butterflies and insisted on bubbles. Ginny had countered by suggesting butterflies within protective bubbles. It had gone downhill from there.

"How was Severus this morning?" Ron asked.

"The same." Harry sighed. "He's been a wreck all week. Tense and on-edge. I can't wait for this to be over so we can get back to how things have always been."

"You haven't always been my best friend and my brother-in-law," Ron reminded him. "And Severus hasn't always been your dad, either."

Harry looked up and stared at Ron a long moment, then shook his head.

"It seems like he has," he said, smiling. "I can hardly remember what it was like not having one – a father, I mean."

"I remember," Ron said. "I remember the Dursleys, anyway, and I remember that summer we broke you out of Privet Drive."

"Thanks for that, mate," Harry said, grinning.

"And the summer you spent with Severus at Shell Cottage while we went to the States with Hermione's parents. We spent most of our time planning how we'd break you out once we got back."

Harry grinned again. "If anyone had told me during fifth year that I'd spend the summer with Professor Snape in a cottage by the sea, I'd have thought they were mental."

"I love that place," Ron said with a happy sigh.

"Well, you know I do too." He stared at his hands a minute, then looked at Ron. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course you can. What?"

"And you won't let on to anyone else?"

"Of course I won't. Not if you ask me not to. So - ?"

"We're going there for our honeymoon."

"To Shell Cottage?" Ron looked confused. "I thought you were going to Portugal."

Harry shook his head. "Nope." He grinned. "Besides, if we'd told everyone, they'd all have tried to convince us to go somewhere else – somewhere new. But why go somewhere new when we can go somewhere we already love?" He stood and paced over to the window. "I don't know why I'm so nervous."

"Because you're getting married, mate!" Ron glanced at the mantel clock. His eyes widened. "In less than an hour." He jumped up. "Get dressed! I have strict orders to have you at the Burrow at three thirty sharp."

Harry paled.

"Less than an hour?"

"Go go go!" Ron herded Harry into his bedroom. "And you're supposed to do something to your hair!"

Harry skidded to a halt. "My hair? What's wrong with my hair? It's a bit late for a haircut, don't you think?"

"Just get dressed – Hermione can do something to it when we get to the Burrow. GO!"

"Fine," grumbled Harry, returning to his room. "But no product!"

"Unca Harry!"

Teddy hurled himself at Harry, who was sitting very still while Hermione finished working on his hair.

Harry grabbed the little boy and held him in place between his knees. "Teddy Lupin!" he exclaimed in mock surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"We came for your wedding," Teddy said. He put one hand on each of Harry's knees and lifted his legs off the floor, swinging his feet in the air. "And we brought a present!"

Harry grinned. "Did you, now?"

Teddy nodded vigorously and pulled a small package from his robe pocket. It was scuffed and dirty and had obviously been wrapped by Teddy himself.

Harry pulled his godson up on his knee. "Should Ginny be here when I open this?"

Teddy shook his head vigorously. "This one's for you first," he said in an uncharacteristically small voice. "If you like it, then you can show it to her."

Harry considered the small boy. Teddy was definitely anxious about the gift. "Well – let's open it together, alright?"

Teddy nodded nervously.

A few seconds later, Harry held a small, narrow box in his hand. Hermione and Ron were both watching him now, and he smiled encouragingly at Teddy as he lifted the lid and looked inside. He really had no idea what to expect.

"Grandma says I can be on more than one," Teddy said, still very quietly, as Harry stared at the perfectly crafted clock hand, adorned with the likeness of his godson. "She says you and Aunt Ginny are going to have your own family soon."

Harry was unaccountably touched.

"Well, guess that spoils one of your wedding presents," Ron murmured.

Harry glanced at Ron, eyes wide as he realised what Ron meant. He turned back to Teddy and lifted his chin with one finger.

"Teddy Remus Lupin," he said, speaking very clearly and looking into the little boy's eyes. "You will always – always – be a part of my family. My family with Severus, my family with Ginny, my family with any children we might have together. I will be honoured to put your hand on my family clock."

He closed the box and slipped it into his pocket, and gathered his godson up into a hug. "Thank you, Teddy," he said. "Thank you for being my first little boy."

The little boy in question gripped him hard around the neck.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up past the limpet-like creature clinging to him. Severus was standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Dad."

Severus smiled. "It's time."

Hermione pried Teddy out of Harry's arms. "I'll see you up there, Harry," she said, leaning in to kiss his cheek. She pushed a straggling piece of hair from his eyes and shook her head. "I can't believe this day is finally here."

Severus stood aside as she left the room, leading Teddy by the hand.

"Well?"

Harry stood. He could hear the music outside now. The knot in his stomach – the one that hadn't been there five minutes ago – tightened.

Severus walked up to him. He reached out and straightened Harry's collar.

"Ginevra looks lovely," he said. "And just as nervous as you do – and you don't even have to balance a goblin-made family heirloom on your head as you walk down the aisle."

Ron snorted. "I forgot all about the tiara," he said. "Hermione is having a fit about it – doesn't want to wear it and Mum's having kittens."

Harry grinned.

"Ginny is lovely, tiara or no tiara," he said. "And you look great, Dad. Thanks for everything."

"Luna's out there," Ron said, smirking at Severus. It said quite a bit about the amount of time they'd spent together these past years that he allowed himself to smirk at the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Miss Lovegood is quite charming," Severus replied. "She has already assured me she's cleared the venue of nargles."

"She's cleared the wrackspurts too, I hope," said Ron. "They can make your brain go fuzzy."

The knot in Harry's stomach settled just a bit. He looked from Ron to Severus, then out the doorway where he'd just caught a glimpse of diaphanous white somewhere in the distance.

"You've got the ring, Ron?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "No. Tossed it to the niffler in the garden a while back," he said.

"Good," said Harry a bit vaguely. He looked at Severus. "You're about to get that daughter you always wanted, you know," he said.

"I know," Severus said with a fond smile. "I've already been informed."

Bill stuck his head in the room. "They're waiting for you," he said, giving Harry an encouraging smile.

"Right."

He squared his shoulders.

"Ready?" asked Ron.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Harry answered. "Come on – let's go get married."

Harry, standing on the raised dais in the garden of the Burrow, in front of their wedding guests, waiting for Ginny, was more happy than ever that they had insisted on keeping the wedding small.

Not that the assembled Weasley family and their friends made a small, intimate gathering.

Something simple, he and Ginny had said. At the Burrow. Family and friends. A small reception.

Of course, there had been the usual and expected tussles. After all, Arthur and Molly Weasley only had one daughter.

Tussles over who paid what. Molly and Arthur didn't want to accept any money from Severus. Harry and Ginny wanted to foot the bill themselves.

Over the dress. Ginny wanted a Muggle style wedding dress. Molly thought she should wear bridal robes. They'd compromised with Ginny in a beautiful Muggle dress but wearing Aunt Muriel's tiara while Harry wore formal wedding robes.

Over the guest list. Harry really didn't want anyone from the Ministry there except for Kingsley. He compromised on Percy.

Over the date. The time of day. The decorations.

He understood, now, the reasoning behind having a best man. Ron stood right behind him, occasionally muttering something amusing that took the edge off his nervousness.

"Hagrid's crying already," he whispered. "Mum's given him a tablecloth to use as a hanky."

Or –

"Percy's been put in charge of Aunt Muriel. Maybe we can get him drunk at the reception and get him to model the tiara."

Or –

"I've got a great tent you can borrow in case you and Ginny want to do a little camping on your honeymoon."

The music started – Severus had insisted on paying for the string quartet – and Harry looked to the back of the center aisle where Molly now stood, arm in arm with Severus.

A lump rose in his throat and he blinked furiously, willing away the tears.

When he'd asked Severus to be his best man, to stand up for him at his wedding, Severus had stared at him thoughtfully for a long time without speaking, and then had pushed Harry into a chair in his sitting room and had gone into the kitchen. He came back with two glasses of scotch and had pressed one into Harry's hands while he sat down across from Harry.

Harry still remembered his response, nearly word for word.

"While I am honoured – deeply, deeply honoured – that you want me beside you on your wedding day, I think the best place for me is beside Molly and Arthur, as your father. Ron cannot fill that position, but he can be your best man."

Today, now, in this exact moment, as he locked eyes with Severus for the space of two heartbeats, he was beyond thankful that he had a father like Severus.

Severus escorted a beaming Molly slowly down the aisle. And while Severus certainly did not beam, there could be no mistake that he was happy. He sat beside Molly, leaving space on the aisle for Arthur. There was no bride's side and groom's side – Harry and Ginny had made it clear they wouldn’t be following that tradition in the early stages of planning.

He saw Hermione get into place before he saw Ginny, holding Victorie and Teddy by the hand, guiding them into their places behind the bride. Hermione looked up and they, too, locked eyes briefly. She gave him an encouraging smile, then Ginny was there, on Arthur's arm, and Hermione was smoothing out her short train, and the lump that had started when he saw Severus, and the tears he had been trying to blink away, were back with a vengeance.

He felt something in his hand and looked down to see that Ron had pressed a handkerchief into it.

"Mum gave it to me just before I came up here," he whispered.

"She's beautiful," Harry whispered back, eyes still on Ginny, who was beaming even more widely than her mother.

"Yeah, she is, isn't she?" answered Ron, but his eyes were locked on Hermione, holding the children’s hands as they walked together – carefully in step – behind Ginny and Arthur.

It was over so quickly that Harry hardly knew what happened. There were rings – which Ron and Hermione produced without fail, and there were vows, traditional Wizarding vows, and there was a kiss – rather a long one judging from the laughter and whistles.

And there were hundreds of butterflies, and they seemed to like Harry's hair, and a good many of the photographs taken at the end of the ceremony featured Harry with a crown of butterflies and Ginny laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes.

And there was dancing.

And Severus had made sure that Harry knew how to dance, that he'd had formal lessons, and plenty of practice. And the first time Harry danced with Ginny, he still had a butterfly in his hair, but it flew off and landed on her tiara, and rode there like a king on a throne, spreading its magnificent blue and black wings quite regally. Harry danced with Molly, and Hermione, and Luna, then claimed his bride again just as the moon was rising and danced with her in the moonlight.

And there were photographs. Every combination one could think of, formal and informal, posed and candid. And while all of the photos were special – the photos of the wedding party, and of their individual families, and the little ones in their tiny formal robes – the one he liked best after that lovely one of he and Ginny dancing in the moonlight, was the one of the combined family.

Arthur and Molly and Severus, Ginny and her brothers, their wives and children, and Harry.

It made him recall, somehow, that time when he was eleven years old, and he'd found the ancient Mirror of Erised hidden in the castle, and had sat in front of it for hours on end, gazing at the family he'd never known. And always, always in the mirror, he was there, in the middle of them, and their arms were around him.

And while there were, indeed, parallels, and he was very happy to be a formal member of the Weasley family, what made him happiest about the photo was that he hadn't come into the family as only Harry, orphaned, parentless.

He had Severus. A father of his own.

And his eyes were drawn always to Ginny. He'd married her, not her family. True, they came along with her, and he couldn't imagine ever having another quiet Christmas. But he loved her far and beyond her family, knew he would love her if she were an only child, or if her family had been made up of a dozen Percys.

And when, at last, the evening had worked itself to its end, and the guests had gone, leaving them with toasts and best wishes and hugs and kisses, when Teddy had fallen asleep on Andromeda's shoulder and Victoire had cried and cried because she didn't want to take off her new robes, Harry and Ginny changed out of their wedding clothes and got ready to Floo to Shell Cottage.

There were more hugs, of course, and Molly, who'd made it through the evening in one piece, broke down in tears as she hugged them goodbye, and Severus kissed Ginny's cheek, then hugged Harry and handed him an envelope.

"Not here," he said quietly to Harry. "Open it when you get to the cottage."

It was a long envelope, heavy and fat, and Harry pocketed it, and looked at Severus curiously, then hugged him goodbye.

"Thanks, Dad," he said as he hugged Severus. "Thanks – for making us wait. For the music. For everything."

The cottage was dancing with candlelight when they stepped out of the Floo, Harry just behind Ginny.

They christened the evening with a kiss in front of the fireplace, Ginny's hands cupping his face, Harry's arms wrapped tightly around her.

Married. He was married. They were married.

"We're married," he said, and he grinned then kissed her again.

"Look at this place," Ginny said, turning around in wonder. "It's perfect."

Candles in glass jars were placed on the tables in the sitting room, on the stairs leading to the bedrooms upstairs, on the counters in the kitchen. They lined the window ledges on the screened-in porch, flickering in the gentle night breeze.

A bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice beside two glasses, with a plate of cheese and crackers and fruit.

Harry picked up a grape and dropped it into his mouth, offered one to Ginny. She bit it from his fingers, and they laughed, and she fed him a strawberry.

"Severus and his devoted house elves," she said. She pulled the champagne out of the ice bucket and popped the cork and poured.

"To my husband," she said, lifting her glass.

"To my wife." Harry grinned.

"To us."

They stood side by side on the porch, looking out toward the ocean, and after finishing their champagne, and the plate of cheese and fruit, they climbed into the hammock and rocked gently, then fell asleep, exhausted, listening to the sound of the surf and the whisper of the wind.

And on his wedding night, Harry dreamed.

He was dancing with his bride on the dance floor, and they were waltzing, keeping time with the music, and every time they turned Ginny was a bit older, a bit more beautiful. He saw her age before his eyes, and her hair lost its sheen, and her skin began to wrinkle, but her eyes were always his, always shining, and the laugh lines around them grew and deepened. And they waltzed off the dance floor onto a spot of grass behind a country cottage, and he had a baby in his arms, and Ginny had a little boy by the hand. And the colours changed, and there was a little girl now, and they were on Platform 9 ¾ and the steam was rising around them, and he was looking into eyes as green as his own, then running beside the train as it pulled away, chasing his childhood, feeling Ginny's hand in his own, pulling him back.

And there, at the end, he was sitting cross-legged on the rocky shore, gazing out toward the water where Severus knelt, holding the pudgy hands of a dark-haired boy, speaking to him so softly that Harry couldn't hear the words. And as Harry watched, the child nodded his head gravely, then looked up into Severus' eyes and bent his knees, sinking down into the water to his neck, then quickly standing up again, smiling brilliantly, holding up his arms to Severus, who lifted him up then dipped him back in the water again as the child giggled and screeched "Again, Papa!" And he looked to the side, where Ginny was reclined, and he reached out his hand to caress her swollen belly, and she looked hot and miserable and utterly beautiful.

"The only good thing about being pregnant in the summer is Shell Cottage," she said.

And she stood, and walked toward the ocean, and she was wearing her wedding dress now, and it trailed in the wind behind her as she waded into the water, and Severus and the child faded away. And she turned to face Harry, and a thousand butterflies lifted her veil and bore it away on a breeze.

He woke to kisses on the corner of his eyes, on the tip of his nose, on his ear, his lips.

"We slept through our wedding night," Ginny said, her voice rough with sleep.

And they stumbled out of the hammock, and made their way upstairs past candles still burning in magical jars, and fell onto the bed.

And Harry laughed until he cried, because it was a waterbed, until Ginny finally kissed him quiet.

It wasn't until they were up and showered, until they'd had breakfast and coffee, that Harry remembered the envelope Severus had given him.

Ginny had gone ahead to the beach with the first load of towels and chairs, and he stood on the porch and removed the bundle from the trousers he'd discarded before tumbling onto the hammock the night before.

Harry and Ginevra

He removed the bundle of papers and opened it.

The lump in his throat was back.

"Oh, Severus," he said, staring at the letter, then lifting his eyes to gaze out the window, down to the shore, where Ginny was setting up chairs and laying out the beach blanket and towels. He looked back at the bundle of papers, turned the pages over until he reached the end, then stared at the letter once more.

He dropped the papers onto the table, smiling, and hurried outside, down the stairs, onto the little path that led to their little patch of sand and rocks and ocean.

Their path. Their beach. Their cottage.

The ocean called to him as he ran.

Severus had given them Shell Cottage.

Dear Harry and Ginny:

Congratulations. The day you have been planning for so long is finally here, and even more importantly, the life you have agreed to share as husband and wife has begun.

You hold in your hands the deed to Shell Cottage. It is yours, so that it may continue to be the retreat and refuge for you that it has been these past years. As you look ahead to the years to come, I pray that there will be less need for rest and recovery, and that you use the cottage to reconnect with the simple joys of life.

Shell Cottage has offered me these in abundance.

Christen the cottage well with the happy memories you make this week.

Regards,

Dad

Fin