Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything... really... not a house... not my truck... certainly not Harry Potter and his cohorts.
Words: 411
Warning: utter flufftasticness (yes, that IS a word, thank you very much)
A/N: My mom used to actually do this to my brother and me. I love her for it. Also inspired by the shooting star I saw this morning on my paper route. Sometimes I think 3am is the best time of day. :)
Severus mumbles in his sleep and rolls over, hand automatically searching out his lover. Finding nothing but still slightly warm sheets, he slowly wakes. Stumbling out of bed he walks into the living room, blearily rubbing his eyes. It's pitch black. No fire in the grate, no one on the couch. Confused, he heads down the corridor and opens both doors, only to find the rooms empty. Alarm and adrenaline snap him wide awake. Rushing to the bedroom, he haphazardly throws on a shirt and whatever pants are at hand. Reaching for his wand lying on the nightstand, he nearly misses seeing the piece of parchment underneath it. As he reads the contents, his heart rate slows to something aproximating normal and he lets out a huff of amusement and exasperation.
At a much more sedate pace, Severus finishes dressing, tucks the note into his pocket and heads out of his rooms. Arriving at the location stated in the note, he quietly slips into a shadowed corner of the Great Hall. Never looking up at the enchanted night sky, he searches the room for its' occupants. The tables are empty. Even the head table. But there, on the floor of the dias, is what appears to be a small mountain of blankets and pillows. Smiling to himself he moves closer, not yet alerting the living mound of clothes to his presence. He can hear them now; one low, quiet voice and two higher-pitched excited ones. A small hand and arm escapes the pile to point up at the sky - ceiling, reminding Severus of the purpose of this 3am escapade.
Going to take the kids stargazing in the Great Hall. Meteor shower tonight. Don't Worry!
Looking up, he watches the bright streaks trailing from one end of the heavens to the other. Unable to resist any longer, he strides over to his family, making no effort to silence his footsteps. Three content faces look up at him. His long time lover and partner smiles and their young daughter squeals with surprise and delight. Their son scoots over, making a space for him. With his son wrapped in his arms and his head pillowed on Harry's shoulder, Severus lets his love's soft voice drift over him; explaining the science behind shooting stars and the myths behind the constellations. He stares at the brilliant night sky, wondering which bright speck of light he should thank for his good fortune.