At the Altar

"Is there anyone here who objects to this marriage. If so, let them speak now or forever hold their peace . . ."

Ron held his bride-to-be's hand firmly, looking down at her, a smile on his face. Only a few more seconds left . . .

Hermione looked up at Ron, a small, rather sad smile on her face. Maybe one day the love she had for him would become passionate and full of fire—maybe one day it would surpass friendship and bloom into undying love. He was good to her, stable and most of all, he was here. He would always be here.

"If no one objects," Minerva said with a smile, "I now pronounce you—"

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall flew open, and everyone turned in their seats, gasping as a ghost glided up the center aisle.

"I object!" Severus Snape bellowed, striding toward the couple.

Everyone was stunned as he approached Ron and Hermione, his dark eyes resting on the witch in the white gown and veil. Harry was so shocked he couldn't move.

No one could.

Severus Snape was supposed to be dead these past two years. But here he was, alive and ruining Ron and Hermione's wedding.

Ron snapped out of it first. Hero or not, this git was ruining his nuptials. He stepped in front of Hermione, blocking Snape's advance.

"What's going on here?" Ron demanded, "I don't care if you're back from the dead. You have no right to stop my wedding, you git!"

Snape looked at Ron, and then at Hermione, who was staring back at him, her eyes full of tears.

He came. After all he said—how much he denied his feelings—the Potions master came.

"I have every right, since I love the woman you wish to marry," the wizard said to Ron, whose blue eyes widened.

Another set of gasps rose from the audience, Molly Weasley looking at Hermione as she stood there, seeing how the witch's eyes shone as she looked at the dark wizard.

Oh no.

"And I believe she loves me. If I am correct, Mr. Weasley, you should be thanking me. There is no sadder situation than to be married for life to a witch who doesn't love you in the manner of a wife. You have her platonic love, Mr. Weasley, but her heart—her heart belongs to me."

Ron turned to look at Hermione.

"Is this true, Hermione? Do you have something going on with professor Snape?" he asked her.

"I have never touched her, Mr. Weasley, but it makes no difference, believe me. She cannot in good conscience, marry you, can you, Hermione?"

Hermione blinked up at Snape, then at Ron. She slowly shook her head.

"No, I can't. I thought I could—but now, you've come and said what I've wanted you to say for the longest time, Severus," she said, tears running down her face.

Snape reached around Ron and took Hermione's hand, drawing her to him and slowly removing the wedding band from her finger. He handed it to Ron.

"Save this for a witch that truly loves you," Snape said silkily as murmuring broke out.

He tucked Hermione's arm in his.

"Come, Hermione. There is no need for you to change clothes. We're going to the Ministry and you are going to marry the man who is your true love this very day," he said to her softly, then walked her down the aisle and out of the Great Hall.

Harry walked up to a stunned Ron, staring at the closing doors.

"I thought he was dead," Harry said quietly as Ron blinked after the pair.

He had always suspected Hermione didn't feel the same way about him that he did about her. But, she could have grown to love him. Maybe. Now, he'd never know. Snape had stolen her away—forever.

"I really wish he was," the redhead said with a sigh as the guests began to gather around him to offer their condolences.

A/N: Just a little scenario that popped into my head a few minutes ago. I wrote it out and decided to share it. I don't think it needs anything more, but, lol, there's always a story behind everything, isn't there? Thanks for reading.