Reputations

16th February 1980

“I’m so glad you started this,” Angela Bones sighed as she finally settled Susan on the rug next to Hermione.

“Gods yes,” Laurel Parkinson agreed, “I was going insane by myself all day, and it’ll do Pansy good to have some friends before Hogwarts. Is Selene coming?”

“Not today, she demanded Ezra take Marcus. This pregnancy’s been hard. Antonia will be here soon though, Daphne is the sweetest thing, all blonde and hazel eyed.” Cordelia replied.

“They’ll be striking together as they grow up then,” Laurel remarked, “With your Hermione’s dark hair, she'll eventually have Regina’s curls by the looks of things, your eyes of course, but yours were always darker than Jared's.” 

Cordelia hummed, “Yes, Daphne definitely got Jared's eyes. So far, she looks like him which I’m told is normal, despite us all hoping she’ll grow out of it. It's bizarre because Hermione has always looked like me…even with Regina's hair and that skin I’d kill for, yes I would.” she grinned down at Hermione, “Mummy's always been milk-bottle pale no matter how much time I spend in the sun.”

Laurel laughed, “I remember! You used to get so frustrated when all that would happen was you’d turn red.”

“I’m still frustrated!” Cordelia protested, making the other two women laugh as the floo roared and Antonia Greengrass and Dorothea Nott appeared at the door.

“Remind me she’s too young for a sleeping draught,” Antonia begged, handing the baby to her sister-in-law.

“Definitely too young,” Cordelia agreed, “Trust me, if she wasn't, we’d have used one months ago.”

Thea laughed, “Is Hermione still not sleeping?”

“No, she's better,” Cordelia allowed, “But now we panic that she's not awake and get up and check on her to make sure she's still breathing.”

All of them laughed, “Merlin, who thought babies were a good idea?” Laurel lamented.

“Look at them though!” Angela smiled indulgently down at the children.

“They are rather sweet,” Laurel allowed, with a slight smile before she turned the discussion to other things that didn't revolve around their children or the house.

2nd September 1980

“No!” Hermione screeched indignantly as Kingsley strapped her into the contraption his wife insisted was necessary in order to feed their daughter. 

He paused, ”What did you say?"

“No!” she repeated, looking exceedingly pleased with herself.

“Mother of Morganna. Of course, that's your first word,” he muttered, “You're going to kill me, Princess!”

“Why is she killing you this time?” Rabastan asked with amusement.

“Don't you have a home?” he retorted.

“Oh we do. I do like yours though. Hello, my princess!” Hermione twisted, holding her hands up pleadingly as she babbled nonsense at him.

“Oh come on Princess, this is when you use that word!” Kingsley whined.

“What word?” Bast frowned, already liberating Hermione from her hated seat.

“No. Her first word was bloody no.”

Rabastan bit back a grin. “I see. Aren't you clever Princess?” he cooed, throwing her up in the air to make her giggle. 

“Of course she is,” Atticus agreed, taking Hermione from him, “You're the cleverest girl in the world aren't you sweetling?”

Kingsley sighed, “That child is going to have an ego bigger than Bast.” he muttered as his mother kissed his cheek. 

“Are Aster and Dorian joining us?” she asked, already heading in the direction of the kitchen.

“Yes, they should be here soon.”

“Oh lovely a dinner party!” Rabastan grinned

“Bast, we cannot just invite ourselves to dinner,” Severus sighed exasperatedly.

“Oh but we can, can't we Princess, you want Uncle Bast to stay, don't you?”

“What's your new word, Princess?” Kingsley coaxed. 

Hermione giggled. “I’m taking that as a yes,” Rabastan replied smugly, as Severus groaned.

“Does that child not have a high chair?” Aster Greengrass asked pointedly, eying Hermione from where she was sat on Rabastan's knee.

“She doesn't like it!” Rabastan protested. 

“Really Severus, can't you instil some decorum into him?” she asked, turning to look at the man. 

“If Caius and Rian didn't manage, I fear it would be a losing battle,” he murmured.

Aster sighed, “You're probably right, but Hermione is going to be so spoiled.”

“Undoubtedly,” Severus agreed, his lips twitching, “Blame her parents for making him godfather.”

“Evan’s just as bad!” Kingsley protested, “And you hate children.”

“I don't think I hate that one,” he mused, with a smirk. “I've decided I’ll just need to train her in acceptable standards of behaviour and personally ensure she is not as much of an idiot as her peers.”

Cordelia choked on her drink, “Merlin, Sev! You could just admit you're as smitten as the rest of them.”

“I will admit no such thing,” he responded curtly even as he snuck Hermione one of the carrots from his plate.

“Says the man feeding her her current favourite thing. She has got her own dinner you know.”

“Wait til pudding,” he grinned and Cordelia groaned. 

7th September 1980

Dorian sat on the floor a foot away from his granddaughter, hands outstretched “Come on sweetling, come to Grandpa!”

Hermione watched him warily where she was gripping onto the seat of the sofa before she let go. “That's it, sweetling! Come on, you can do it!” 

Not looking at all sure of herself, Hermione took one shaky step forward, Cordelia hovering behind her warily. When she finally reached him, he threw her into the air until she was giggling, twirling her around. “Who's Grandpa's clever girl?” 

Behind her, Cordelia watched, tears tracking down her face; he caught her eye with concern. "I didn't think I’d get to see that,” she whispered, taking her daughter and cuddling her close as she felt her father wrap his arms around both of them. 

“For this alone, I will be forever indebted to Severus,” he agreed.

“I’m so scared, Dad. How do I leave her?”

He forced back the part of him that wanted to beg her not to, even as he knew it was futile. “You leave her knowing that she is surrounded by people who love her. Who will make sure she knows you. But not yet, baby girl. Please not yet.”

“Not yet,” Cordelia agreed, releasing Hermione as she began to squirm, allowing herself to sink into the comfort of her father's hug, where she could pretend that everything was alright, even if just for a minute.

19th September 1980

“Blow out the candle, Princess,” Kingsley urged his visibly confused daughter, holding up her cake. Biting back a smile Cordelia helped her blow out her lone candle, almost laughing when Hermione turned to look at her with a perplexed frown on her face. 

“How is she one?” Evan asked, sounding thoroughly baffled, “When did that happen?”

“Today,” Severus deadpanned.

“Arse you know what I mean!”

Severus shrugged, “I believe that it is the norm for all children to grow up.”

Evan sighed, “I give up, you're hopeless.” he groused as Rabastan appeared next to Severus.

“How is my Princess one!” he lamented.

“See!” Evan exclaimed, “He gets it!”

“And I find you both ridiculous.” Severus retorted, “Do excuse me, I believe the Greengrass elves made that cake and I want some before one of the children sticks their fingers in it.”

Evan sighed, “How did you end up with someone so…” he trailed off not wanting to offend.

Rabastan snorted, “You love him and you know it. And don't let him fool you, he can't decide whether he's excited for her to grow up so he can have a decent conversation with her or terrified because she's looking more like a little girl than a baby. I found him attempting to persuade her she wanted to be homeschooled rather than leaving us all to go to Hogwarts the other day.”

Evan laughed, “Kings might just support that, although I don't imagine she will. She’s like a darker, curlier version of Deils, Kings is going to have his work cut out for him. What did Bella send for her birthday? Her Christmas present was my favourite.”

Rabastan laughed, “Helpfully, she sent the Black curl potion, which is nothing short of miraculous and the reason Hermione now has proper curls. I hate them, they make her look far too grown up. Unfortunately, Bella then ruined it by sending her A monster book of Monsters. It just about took her fingers off before Deils confiscated it.”

“A Monster Book of Monsters,” Evan repeated faintly. “Tell me they are adopting an older child?”

“Merlin, yes! Can you imagine Bella with a baby? Things are looking positive with a little boy who I think is seven. They're hoping to meet him next week.”

Evan smiled, “I’m glad. I know…it isn't necessarily the way they wanted to become parents.”

Rabastan shrugged, “To be honest, Roddy confessed that he thought this was best. A baby would never survive the pair of them. And Bella's excited that she can start the boys training immediately, unlike Hermione who she's been forbidden to teach until she's at least eight.”

Evan laughed, “Eight? She’ll have her at five.”

“I don't know. I imagine it’ll depend on whether Cissa capitulates to her demands and hands over Draco.”

“So five then.” Evan shot back with a grin.

“Ugh, probably,” Rabastan groaned, already dreading how that would go. His sister-in-law was terrifying.

“Any further forward on persuading Severus to adopt one?”

Rabastan snorted, “No. He adores Hermione, I mean look at her, how can you not?” Evan laughed, his eyes drifting to his honorary niece who was currently covered in cake while sat next to an equally messy Theodore Nott. “He's not sold on the idea though. You know what his father was like, he won't say it but he's terrified he’d be the same. He wouldn't of course, but it might take a bit longer to convince him.”

Evan hummed, “I asked Rosie to marry me yesterday.”

Rabastan froze, “And?”

“She said yes,” he muttered.

“And that's a bad thing?” Rabastan hedged with a frown, taking in the look on his friend's face.

“Well now I have to actually marry her!” he retorted, sounding close to hysterical.

“Yes,” Rabastan nodded slowly, “That's generally how that works.”

Behind them, someone snorted, “Have you still not learned actions have consequences, Mr Rosier?” Atticus laughed. 

“But marriage! I’m not old enough to be a husband!”

Atticus rolled his eyes, “Don't be absurd, you're twenty two, plenty old enough. Hermione needs some cousins to boss around.” He grinned when Evan paled further.

“Cousins?” he squeaked, “But I…she's…”

“I think you broke him.” Rabastan mused. 

“Then my work here is done! Excuse me, boys, I have a granddaughter to feed more cake to while her mothers not looking.” At that Atticus strolled off, leaving Rabastan to try and calm Evan back down.

27th December 1980

Cordelia snuggled her daughter close, revelling in the feel of her tiny warm body relaxed in sleep. She was exhausted, not the new parent tired, or the tiredness that comes from a long day, but the exhaustion that comes from knowing her time was drawing short. She would be forever grateful to Severus for gifting her the last year, knowing she shouldn't have had it but Gods, she was not ready. Her baby was barely fifteen months old and it felt far too soon to be considering leaving her. She knew that she should be comforted by the memories they'd managed to make, the two Christmases none of them had thought she'd get, the photographs of precious moments that no one thought they'd manage to take, but overall she just felt heartbroken. Heartbroken that her baby would never really remember her, that she'd miss all the firsts that were to come, that someone else would be there for the scraped knees, the hugs, to give advice, to see her grow from this tiny human into an actual adult. Her only comfort was that she was leaving her with an army of people who loved her just as fiercely as she did.

Manoeuvring Hermione slightly, she levitated her writing supplies over to her. She was only up to her eleventh year. She had many more letters to write before she could allow herself to rest. Maybe if she drew them out, she’d be given more time. Picking up her quill she began,

 My darling Hermione,

Happy twelfth birthday! Oh, I can just imagine how grown up you look now! It's strange to think of as you lie asleep at my side, your tiny hand clutching my robes as if I’d dare think to leave you while you dreamed…..

22nd March 1981

Regina eyed her sister-in-law shrewdly, she was getting slower, despite how much she was fighting to hide it, the exhaustion was clear on her face if only you looked properly. She had a suspicion no one was looking properly, perhaps because they weren't ready to face the truth. 

“Come on Princess,” she grinned at Hermione instead, “Let's give mummy some peace.”

“No.” Cordelia insisted, “Leave her here. I need….”

“Alright,” Regina replied gently, “Get me a book, Princess, let's read mummy a story.”

At eighteen months, Hermione was curious about everything, and while less boisterous than Theo who was often found glued to her side when they were together, she was still a tiny ball of energy. All of them had been grateful when they realised they could convince her to sit still as long as they read to her. As a result, Regina was convinced that the girl had every children's book ever printed. 

Cordelia's eyelids drooped as Regina began reading Babbity Rabbity in low, soothing tones, Hermione chiming in with the odd word here and there as she pointed at the pictures on the pages. 

“Asleep again?” A voice asked from the doorway, startling Regina. “I don't think we’ve met, Cassia Brown. My Lavender’s less than a month younger than Hermione.”

“Ah. Regina Shacklebolt.”

Cassia smiled, “Aunt Queenie. You're a favourite.” 

Regina laughed, “That's good to know, given that I’m relatively certain I'm losing spectacularly to Bast and Severus.”

“I’ve not met Severus, but having seen Rabastan with her, I understand her fascination. I'm relatively sure the man thinks she hung the moon.”

“A feeling she reciprocates, sadly.” Regina sighed dramatically, “Although, Severus is the one she truly loves which is quite possibly the most bizarre statement of all. The man despises children, or he did, until Hermione appeared.”

Cassia laughed, “I was invited but given…”

“No, stay. She’s…” she hesitated, not sure how to finish that sentence.

“Trying to squeeze in as many memories as possible?” Cassia finished sadly.

“Yes.” Regina swallowed back the tears that threatened. 

“Then let's do that,” the other woman nodded. “Lavender, do you want to play with Hermione?” The girls eyed each other warily for a moment before Hermione held out one of her animals, seeming to appease Lavender who sat down beside her. “Lavender doesn't have much experience with other children,” Cassia offered.

“Deils appears to be building Hermione a playgroup.” Regina replied wryly, “I'm sure she’ll settle.”

“I’ve met the group a few times,” Cassia agreed, “it's lovely to be out of the house. None of my friends have children as young as Lavender so it's been rather isolating. I happened to meet Laurel Parkinson while shopping not long after Lavender's first birthday and she mentioned the meet ups Cordelia had arranged. It's rather amusing to see how different they all are given that most of them will be at Hogwarts around the same time.”

“Hopefully by the time they go they’ll have worked out how to live with their differences. Although…”

“We’ve discussed it.” Cassia cut in, sensing what she was going to say “One of us will make sure Hermione still gets to come if no one is available to take her.”

“Thank you,” Regina whispered. “I...I can do some, obviously but I start my apprenticeship with Master Smith next week, and Antonia is planning another baby. She'd like the children close in age so I don't know how reliable she’ll be able to be.”

“It's fine. Truly. Cordelia is the reason we even have the strange little group we’ve formed, we have no intention of forgetting to include her daughter.”

Regina nodded, not sure what to reply to that as Cordelia began to stir. “Merlin, Cass! I’m so sorry, someone should have woken me.”

“Nonsense.” Cassia brushed her off, “I hadn't yet had the pleasure of meeting your sister-in-law.”

Cordelia smiled, “Did you mention you're a Charms master?”

“You are?” Regina blurted.

“Yes.” Cassia agreed, “I also trained under Master Smith, you're going to be in good hands.”

“Oh my Gods, can I owl you for tips? I hear he's…exacting.”

“Oh he is. He sometimes just needs to be reminded that clever though he is, he is not the only intelligent person in the room.” Cassia snorted, “I don't get the impression you’ll put up with nonsense, you’ll be fine.”

Regina laughed, “More than likely,” she agreed.

15th July 1981

“Oh this is darling,” Aster cooed, holding up a tiny set of pink frilly robes making Cordelia laugh.

“And she’ll hate it. The flounces will impede her movement and stop her running at the speed of a rampaging hippogriff. I’d check to see if they have it in Daphne's size instead.”

“Fine.” Aster sighed, “But Hermione suits this shade far more than Daphne. Daphne's more a baby pink.”

“What about this then?” Cordelia countered, holding up a lighter pink set.

“Very well, I did so want them matching.”

“Why?” Cordelia asked, baffled.

“Because it would be adorable!” her mother countered.

“What about these then?” Cordelia sighed, holding up a miniature dusky pink set of robes, they were beautiful, if more simple than her mother usually liked. 

“Oh I like those. What about in a blue? If we make it royal blue it’ll suit them both.”

Cordelia gave a small huff of laughter, “Whatever you want, Mother.”

Looking at the resulting picture, Cordelia had to admit her mother had been right. At almost two, Hermione's curls now reached her shoulders in tight little spirals, contrasting beautifully with her cousin's blonde. The robes her mother had chosen surprisingly did suit both girls, highlighting the iciness of Daphne's colouring while flattering Hermione's warmth. They couldn't have been more different, both in looks and in personality. Hermione was a whirlwind of activity, with a new favourite word, ‘Why?” that was driving them all demented. Daphne in contrast was a far more relaxed child, content to let her cousin mother her and quietly watch the world around her. Their only glaring similarity was their temper. While Hermiones might come quicker, both toddlers made it very clear when they hit their limit, with poor Gregory Goyle bearing the brunt of most of it as he blundered his way around their little group, apparently irritating the girls every time he dared touch something. Although given that he had taken to stroking the girl's hair, apparently fascinated by the differences, Cordelia supposed she didn't blame them. 

1st August 1981

“You want to take her to the zoo?” Kingely asked with a frown as Cordelia attempted to wrestle Hermione into her robes for the day.

“Yes!”

“A muggle one?”

“Yes! I’ve never been.”

Kingsley nodded slowly, “Alright, what brought this on?”

“Can’t I just want to take my daughter to the zoo?” Cordelia demanded.

Deciding further argument was futile, Kingsley gave in and agreed, which was how he found himself standing at the foot of an unreasonably large hill in the middle of what appeared to be the busiest day in the zoo's history.

“The man at the desk said the schools are on holiday.” Cordelia grimaced in apology.

“Right,” he muttered, “Did he explain why the zoo was built on a sodding hill?”

“Ah no. Start at the top and work down?” she suggested. 

Kingsley sighed, “Right then. Ready to see some animals, Princess?”

Hermione squealed, bouncing excitedly on his hip.

Four hours later, he was engrossed, watching the penguins as they dived under the water and swam up to their viewing window, making Hermione squeal with delight every time one came into view, much to the amusement of everyone watching with them. Unseen, Cordelia pulled out a camera, catching the matching expressions on their faces as a feeling of peace settled over her. She desperately wanted to see her daughter grow up, but watching her with the father who had chosen her, she finally accepted that Hermione would be alright. 

8th August 1981

“Hermione, Theo’s here!” Cordelia shouted as the sounds of her daughter's tiny feet sounded from the room behind her. “T!” Hermione shouted. 

Theo grinned back, gently taking her hand and tugging her forward into the room he knew contained the toys. “They are adorable.” Dorothea sighed. 

“They can be.” Cordelia agreed, smiling slightly, “Let's hope they let Lavender exist in their little bubble today.”

Dorothea hummed, moving out of the way to allow Antonia to step out. “Hello darling,” Cordelia cooed at her tiny niece. 

“Dee!” she squealed, holding out her arms to her Aunt. 

“Oh, you're getting so big!” Cordelia lamented, squeezing her tight. “Are you ready to play?”

“Yes!”

“So, I hear Hermiones getting another cousin,” Narcissa smirked, one eye on her son where he was sat surrounded by wooden blocks.

Cordelia laughed, “Yes, Evan told us last week. He's panicking and it's hilarious. I overheard him begging Kings to give him tips, not that he was helpful. He did at least point out that Evan spent about as much time with Hermione when she was tiny as we did. And Merlin knows if he wasn't here, Bast was.”

“Rose is over the moon,” Narcissa smiled, “And Rabastan still spends most of his time here.

“I know, we just can't get rid of the man,” she laughed. “Did she tell you she had Evan out looking at nursery furniture now everyone knows? She almost killed him off with the cost.”

The women were properly laughing now, well able to imagine Evan’s reaction. “I’m glad he's settled, I was beginning to wonder,” Narcissa commented lightly, “Now if we could persuade Bast to make an honest man out of Severus….”

Cordelia laughed, loudly, “Can you imagine? I always assumed they’d elope.”

“Rian would Avada them,” Nacissa dismissed.

“True enough,” Dorothea agreed, “Although what's this about your cousin and the young Carrow, Narcissa?”

“Reggie?” Narcissa replied, “It's all nonsense, Aunt Wally demanded a paternity test, and thank all the gods it's not his. I might have had to hex him myself if he’d been so stupid. He's nowhere near ready to settle down, much to Aunt Wally's consternation and Merlin only knows if Sirius ever will be.”

“Probably not,” Cordelia snorted, “he always reminded me of Peter Pan.”

Laughing, Narcissa steered the conversation in other directions as the children orbited around each other on the floor, several of the witches eyeing an exhausted Cordelia with poorly concealed worry.

13th August 1981

Kingsley held an unusually quiet Hermione in his arms despite how many people had protested. A funeral is no place for a toddler, they had said, but he couldn't leave her, she was the only thing keeping him upright. 

It seemed inconceivable that Cordlia was gone. He still half expected it to turn out to be a cruel joke. She had been so full of life and then suddenly she wasn't. And while part of him was glad that there hadn't been a long drawn-out period of illness, the abruptness of her death had stunned them all. 

“Mama?” Hermione asked quietly and he had to force himself not to sob.

“Mama’s had to go away for a little while, Princess. She didn't want to but…” he stopped utterly unequal to the task of explaining to a not yet two year old why her Mother couldn't come when she wanted her.

“Mama’s gone to live with the angels, Princess,” Rabastan cut in from directly behind them, his face suspiciously blank, “She loves you very much but she couldn't stay.”

Hermione's lip wobbled, “Mama gone?”

“Yes Princess,” Rabastan agreed, tears beginning to track down his face, “Mama’s gone.”

“No!” she protested.

“Hush Princess,” Kingsley murmured, cuddling her close. “Ten more minutes, just…ten more minutes.”

“Mama!” she called again, beginning to cry.

“Fuck,” he heard Rabastan swear, sounding broken, as his mother-in-law sobbed beside him. “Give…give her here. I’ll take her out for a minute.”

Silently, he handed her over, wondering what was going to anchor him now as he began the utterly inconceivable task of trying to say goodbye to his best friend.

James Potter eyed the little girl in Kingsley's arms. Delia’s husband. He hadn't seen that one coming. Watching her, he realised she looked about as old as the child they’d lost would have been. They’d lost touch after he’d married Lily, or rather they’d deliberately cut contact. It had hurt, all of it. He had loved her, still loved her and he hated himself for missing out on precious months that they should have had, even if just as friends. He’d always imagined he’d have time. Later, once things settled down and the wounds felt less raw, to reconnect. To have her back in his life. And now. Now it was too late. All too late. 

But something about that little girl was niggling at him. He couldn't work it out. “I didn't know Deils had had a kid,” Sirius muttered.

“Neither did I,” he admitted, “But we’ve not exactly kept up with many people from school, you know that Lily isn't fond of the more traditional circles.”

“No,” Sirius allowed, “Strange though, isn't it? She always viewed Kings as another sibling.”

James froze as he turned that over in his head. Sirius was right, they had always viewed each other as siblings. But pseudo siblings did not get married. Not unless they had to, a small voice whispered.

He looked back over at the tiny witch in Kingsley's arms, “How old is she?” he asked.

“The kid, ah…I think I overheard Parkinson mention that she’s two soon. Next month?”

Silently counting back in his head, James froze. Fuck he hoped he was wrong. 

“I'll be back in a moment,” he whispered to a stunned Sirius as he saw Rabastan leave with the girl. Unseen, Severus Snape followed.

He found Rabastan attempting to soothe the toddler screaming for her mother and had to force back the urge to vomit. Fuck, maybe this wasn't the time. He could owl, couldn't he? Later. 

“Give her here,” the deep voice of his childhood nemesis sounded from behind him, “We have company.”

Rabastan’s eyes shot to his, momentarily startled, before they narrowed, “What do you want?” he demanded.

“Bast, give her to me,” Severus repeated, his tone warning Rabastan to be careful of what he said.

Reluctantly, he handed Hermione to Severus, watching for several seconds as his partner began to talk quietly in her ear, unable to pick out the words. Slowly she quieted, screams giving way to hiccuping sobs that made him want to give in and join her. 

James gulped when Rabastan’s eyes snapped back to his once the girl was finally quiet, her breathing still ragged, even in sleep, her hand clutching Snape's collar tightly as he rocked her with her tiny face pushed into his neck. 

“Why did you follow us?”

“How old is she?” he blurted.

Rabastan’s eyes hardened, “Why was knowing that so important that you had to leave a funeral to ask?”

“You know why.”

“I know nothing.” Rabastan retorted. “Now I’m going back in now that Hermione is calm so I can say goodbye to Deils. Excuse us.”

“No! Wait! I need to know if she's mine.” he begged.

“She's Kingsley's,” Rabastan hissed, “You were given a chance and you ignored it.” Turning on his heel he stalked away from him before he said anything else. 

“She was mine first though, wasn't she?” he asked Snapes back as he began to walk away from them, utterly unsure what Rabastan had meant. Severus’ step faltered slightly but he ignored him and walked back in, leaving James to face the consequences of his own carelessness. 

“Everything alright,” Evan murmured when they returned. “I saw Potter follow you out.”

“He apparently thought today was the best time to meet Hermione as if he had not ignored every letter Deils sent.” Bast sighed. “But…now…I can't deal with it now.”

Evan nodded slowly, fighting back the fear that statement gave him. “We’ll deal with it later,” he murmured, turning back towards the officiant and nightmare he was sure they were all desperately wishing they'd wake up from.