“What is it?”

“Sorry,” she said meekly, taking her hand away. “I’ve never Apparated before.” Snape made an impatient noise and strode over to the queue in front of a nearby counter. As he went, Emma heard the click of his boots on the stone floor and the swish of his black cloak, and wondered how he always seemed to appear so silently out of nowhere at school. For a moment, the extent of her old schoolgirl crush came washing back over her, and a little half-smile somehow made its way onto her face as she admired his tall, slender frame, and the sharp, jutting, angular shoulders. It occurred to her that, at some point, she would see those shoulders unclothed, and for the first time, she felt a twinge of excitement, and perhaps a little arousal too. She wondered if his chest were muscular or toned. Years of potion-making must have defined those arms at least a bit.

His hair was nice, too… and it was certainly not greasy, whatever Daphne might have said. There was a shine to it that some might have called oily, to an extent, but Emma liked its length, how it sat on his shoulders and flicked around his face whenever he turned sharply to look at someone – just like, she suddenly realised, he was doing to her now.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

Hurriedly, she joined him, her stomach flipping as she came to a halt beside him and realised how much taller than her he was, and the horrified thought flashed into her mind: They must think he’s my dad.

She stood on tiptoes to try and come up to his shoulders, but couldn’t. He gave her an odd look.

“Are you -?”

“I feel short next to you,” she said hurriedly. That’s less embarrassing, and partly true.

To her surprise, she saw him suppress an amused smile. It made her smile too.

“Next!”

The goblin seemed to be more wrinkled than the others, though that was the only clue Emma had as to whether he might be older than the rest of them. As she and Professor Snape moved closer, its crinkled mouth twisted into a sneer, and it parted its fleshy lips and displayed tiny, yellow teeth that seemed to have been filed into points. Emma shuddered.

“Can I help?” it snarled. Snape raised an eyebrow and again, Emma felt that shiver down her spine.

Well, I suppose it’s a good thing my crush has come back if I’m meant to be marrying him.

“Severus, Emma, darlings!” Emma let out a shriek as she was suddenly swept into a huge, eye-wateringly tight hug. As she was propped back onto the ground and was able to get her breath back, she saw Narcissa Malfoy kiss Snape on the cheek in greeting. His ‘Narcissa’ was icy.

“I didn’t know we were meeting you here,” Emma offered pleasantly.

“Neither did I,” said Severus, narrowing his eyes.

“How much are you taking out, Severus?” asked Narcissa, ignoring him.

“A thousand?” he suggested weakly. Narcissa closed her eyes in horror.

“A mere thousand? Severus, you jest, surely? This is Emma’s special day; please don’t expect her to wear some cheap robe from Madam Malkin’s. Twilfitt and Tatting’s is good, Emma, if you want to buy designer on a budget. They even have a few Lola Simmons numbers there, but mostly jewellery, I’m afraid. Most of their bridal stock is Vivienne Westwood.”

“Vivienne -?”

“Westwood, yes. Are you done, Severus?”

“Narcissa,” he said sharply, ignoring her question, “a designer wedding dress would cost tens of thousands of Galleons. I do not have that sort of money. Will you please try to understand this?”

“Oh, she simply must have something designer. Remember that tradition the Muggles stole from us? Something old, something new, something couture, something blue.” She smiled widely at him, as if hoping he would fail to notice the obvious error in that rhyme.

“I’m quite certain that’s wrong,” Snape growled through gritted teeth. Emma shifted uncomfortably at his side.

“Well, what do you plan on doing? Were you going to shove her through Malkin’s door and hope for the best? She won’t find anything worth buying in Diagon Alley, Severus. This is her wedding. Let the girl have a little fun. You’ll remember this day for years to come, you know. The photographs will be with you forever.”

“Photographs? What will there be to take photographs of, Narcissa? The happy couple cutting the cake? Me in a top hat and tails?”

“Are you saying you’re not even a little excited about your wedding day, Severus?”

“You know the situation,” Snape hissed, keeping a watchful eye on the goblin, who, although he was deep in conversation with another customer, was almost certainly listening. “This isn’t your typical engagement, Narcissa. She’ll be in my house for her own protection and nothing else.”

“You won’t be saying that when the time comes around to have children, Severus,” Narcissa said quietly.

Snape fell silent. They glared at each other for a few moments more, Emma holding her breath throughout, and then Narcissa inhaled deeply and drew herself up to her full height.

“Come on, Emma. We’re going to Twilfitt and Tattings.”