The Otherworld Girl

She's not like any other girl he's ever met. She's got that cultured accent and that haughty disdain plastered on her face, but, despite it (or, maybe, because of it), here she is, in the pub on the back of Third Street taking whiskey shots with the guys coming right off the lines and sites. He doesn't know why he does it, everyone else has avoided taking either stool to the right or left of her, but he plonks himself down right beside her. Later, he'll think maybe it's because everywhere else was taken, or because she uses some of that magic on him. There and then, though, he just thinks he's the luckiest dog in the whole goddamn world when her lips flick up into a scarlet smirk.

Putting down her latest glass, she holds out her hand, her dark gray eyes glittering like jagged stones. "Eileen Prince," she purrs in that fancy tongue of hers.

Running one of his hands through the grease-slick tendrils of his hair, he uses his other to grasp the silken digits before him and shake them. Obligingly, he says, "Tobias Snape."

"What a handsome name," she coos, eyes raking over him. "Well, Tobias, how would you feel about a drink?"

He grins at her. "Two shots!" he calls, slapping down some pounds, his gaze still locked in a wordless conversation with Eileen.

She's still making those breathy squeaks as he rolls off her, even now, Eileen's eyes are dilated and staring up unfocused at his flat's stained ceiling. Wiping a hand across his forehead, Tobias just smiles and brings an arm around her waist, pressing her sharp angles close. He kisses her cheek, and then her neck, he moves to her shoulder and–

"Stop," she says.

Confused, Tobias lifts his head and stares at her white face (it's like those marble statues he's seen in museum brochures). "What is it, Eileen?" he asks instead of, 'what is it, love?' or, 'what is it, El?', because she hates pet names and monikers more than she hates titles and names altogether.

"Why do we need all these fussy titles? Can't we just all recognize each other as humans?" she questions once. Tobias thinks that if people did that, everyone would just be confused, but he loves Eileen enough not to argue about it. It's just too trivial.

"I think I'm pregnant," Eileen tells.

Tobias laughs. "How can you know? We just had sex!"

Her head turns then, faded red lips pursed. "A month and a half ago–it was a Saturday–we shared a bottle of Gin," she says.

Tobias blinks. "That memory of yours! I wish I could remember like that after a night getting plastered…"

Eileen ignores him in the way she always does when she's trying to tell him important things and Tobias can see that she's struggling to find words from the way her neck keeps moving as she swallows and swallows. "I-I went to one of your healers and he-he confirmed it, but…"

Tobias sits up. "Wait," he says, "you went to the doctor before even talking to me?" It ticks him off, Eileen's pregnant and she didn't even think he'd want to be there with her to find out if it's for sure or not?

Her eyes seem to sharpen at his tone. "I did," she answers back, tone clipped. "It's my body after all. I deserved to know what was wrong with me!"

"There isn't anything wrong with you!" he counters. "You just said you were pregnant! That's not wrong!"

She's sitting up now too, the thread-bare quilts around her waist and he's doing his best not to be distracted by the way her chest bounces as she sucks in a deep breath. "I didn't know that then! It's not like I've been pregnant before! I thought–" a hand comes to her mouth.

Tobias figures it out then. "What? Did you think you were dying, Eileen?" She doesn't say anything, but that's enough of an answer for him. "It's okay, it's all right…" he soothes, pulling her under his chin. "Look, I don't care if you're pregnant; I love you, okay? I'm gonna be here for you and the baby."

He feels her move and glances down to see her gazing up at him with wet eyes. "You mean that don't you?" she whispers. "Oh Tobias," she exhales, working her skinny fingers into his hair as she kisses both his cheeks and then his lips. "You're more than I could have asked for, I love you…"

The sex that follows will be the slowest and sweetest Tobias has ever experienced, and he'll still think about even once he stops loving Eileen and starts hating her (nothing can replace your first love, not even when your second is the cheapest bottle whiskey you can get your hands on).

A month later, she loses the baby.

"Don't leave me," she begs him, her eyes pools of swallowing darkness.

"I won't," he promises.

She's inconsolable for weeks after.

A year later, they're married and comfortable with each other. He goes to work everyday and comes homes for lunch and brings her flowers here and there to make up for the fact they still live in his one room flat. She always takes them, that darling smile coming to her red painted lips, as she smells them. Eileen likes to keep them by the window so he can see them as he comes home everyday.

"There, in the window, they act like a beacon of the love we share," Eileen says to him once, fingers petting the white daisy petals.

It's a Wednesday when he comes home to find her wringing her hands.

"I'm pregnant," she tells him.

He looks at her in shock. "I– Really?"

"Yes!" she snaps.

Tobias sweeps her up in his arms against her protests. "That's brilliant news!"

She squeaks and holds on tight; when he puts her down she puts both hands on his cheeks. "Is it?" she asks uncertain, perfectly white teeth smudged red from biting her lip as her eyes search his.

Tobias nods happily. "I was gonna to wait until tonight, but I got a promotion! This couldn't have come at a better time!" he exclaims, hand migrating to cover her still flat belly. Gazing at Eileen's stomach benevolently, he crouches down and kisses it. "This baby must be our lucky charm, I tell you."

Her hand rests on top of his head, fingers weaving in and out nervously. "Yes, I hope so…" she murmurs.

She's worried, that much is obvious. Tobias doesn't blame her, women tend to fret about things involving babies and moving, he knows. As for himself? Tobias can't help but think everything's coming together splendidly, almost like magic.

When little Severus is born, a thatch of black on his head and a nose already taking on the hawkish turn of the Snape nose, Tobias can't feel any prouder. Here he is, twenty-six, a son, wife, a two-bedroom apartment and now he's even an assistant manager at his cousin's construction company.

Bouncing the baby as he paces by his wife's bed, he smiles at her. "He's a handsome little fella, isn't he?" he remarks.

Eileen returns his smile with a half-grimace, but the light in her eyes tells him she's just as pleased with their perfect son. "Yes, Severus is a dashing infant," she agrees.

"Severus, huh? That's what you decided to name him? Severus Snape… Has a nice ring, don't it? What about a middle name? Or did you decide not to give him one?" the man questions easily, he doesn't mind Eileen picking the baby's name, he can name the next one, he supposes.

Her hands stretch out to him and their son, he comes around and sits next to her, handing off the feather-light bundle. She takes Severus with an adoring smile and kisses the spot between his eyebrows. "It's Tobias," she whispers. "He's Severus Tobias Snape."

Tobias hugs her. "How did I end up so lucky, eh? With such a pretty, kind, thoughtful wife?" He oozes compliments and he knows Eileen usually wouldn't have it, however, today she's bestowing him with rare smile after rare smile. If this is what it takes to get them, he'll have as many kids as he can afford and they can handle, because he loves her like this.

A nurse steps in. "Would you like a picture of you and your new addition today?" she asks brightly.

"I'm a mess–" Eileen starts, but Tobias silences her with a kiss.

"You're as beautiful as the night I met you," he admonishes.

A wry quirk comes to her lips. "I was tipsy when you met me and completely pissed by the time we left the pub," she tells him.

Tobias just laughs. "Go on," he says to the waiting girl. "Take one."

She smiles as she curls her coiffed hair behind her ear. "Alright! On three! One, two three!" The flash shutters and a minute later the young lady is giving them the picture. Tobias thinks it's beautiful. They'll frame it and put it their son's room.

Eileen pulls it from his unresisting fingers. "Don't we look cozy?" she says, finger running gently over their faces before she bestows the picture-Severus with a kiss.

"We do," Tobias agrees, putting his chin on top of her head. Looking down at his baby son's face, the man thinks he could spend eternity with his wife's heart beating against his and watching his son's face twitch as he dreams.

Nothing could ruin this. Nothing could ruin his family. Everything was perfect, perfectly magical.

(He'll wonder later, after everything has fallen apart, was it magic that made it so? Or did magic break the spell he–they–were under?)

Tobias before he was an ass! Can anybody guess what happened? I wanted to leave the deterioration of their marriage up to you to imagine. I thought it would be more interesting for you to see the golden years and then have to try and figure out what went wrong in contrast to just writing it fall apart.

This was done at the suggestion of Raven Lockwood, I know this isn't exactly what you wanted...but do you still like it? I'll get to the other suggestions as well; I just thought to start with this one because it was the first one I got.

Thank you for reading and please review :)

EDITED: 2/23/16