Thank you gondegoogoo for beta'ing (:
She closes her eyes and waits, waits to feel his breath on her cheek again, to touch his slender fingers and hold his hand in hers once more. Outside, the rain pounded ceaselessly on hard ground, softening it like how she softened his heart. She sighs. The sun is setting and the baby is crying once more. She gets up from her place by the window and draws the curtains.
Tonight is not the night. She hurries to the small fists which are waving for her touch, to the precious baby who was hers as well as his. She smiles as she hovers over him, his cries subsides into gurgles as he grabs onto his mother's fingers. Baby gazes up at her with bright green eyes that belong to her. She brushes a lock of ebony hair that belongs to him out of them.
Him and her.
Two people from two different worlds. Two personalities that clash on the battlefields. Two poles of the same magnet that will never meet. But they are one. And it is all that matters because they are one. She tickles the product of this union who giggles. A rumble of thunder sounds in the distance. She glances at the clock.
"Was that you I heard?" she asks in mock horror. "Well look at the time! You must be hungry, little one." Baby coos softly as his eyes dart around. It is the same look he has had for the past meals. He is looking for someone important. She sighs and caresses his locks.
"I'm sorry, little one. Daddy's not home yet," she whispers. "He hasn't been home for so many days and nights. I miss him too."
Baby begins to cry, tears welling up in his perfectly round eyes. He wants his father but she cannot produce him. She hushes him gently. She misses him more now, he who could make their precious son stop crying, who could make it alright again because he was the father. She runs a hand through her hair and battles the tears that threaten to come.
How many nights has it been since she has felt his warmth beside her in bed? How many days has it been watching their friends walk in and out of the house, telling her that he would be alright? She pulls her baby close to her as she descends the steps to the draughty basement. The door swings open on her approach, a charm he put in place because he trusted her above everyone else. Baby immediately hushes. He knows this room. Daddy works here, he knows, and sometimes, Mummy helps. They are brilliant, he thinks, mixing pretty colours in the big pot.
She exhales in relief. Baby's crying breaks her heart. She places their son gently on the table. He drinks in the room. It is his room, his room to inherit when they no longer are around. She places a cauldron into the sink. The last time she saw him, he was in this room. She remembers the fire flaring high, the whoosh of the Floo, the last time he placed his lips on hers and told her not to worry.
She could not help but worry, not when he went willingly towards the gallows every time he was summoned by the foul creature. She sighs as she summons their baby's bottle. It floats in, looking out of place. A laboratory was no place for a child, many think, but their son would surpass his father in his skills because they want him to. She lifts their baby from the table top and nestles him in her arms. Baby coos softly, happy to be in familiar surroundings that he cherishes and loves. He misses his Daddy but Mummy's here and he likes that too. He wishes they would be together again, three of them. Maybe Daddy would teach him how to play with the pretty colours one day.
She feeds him, enjoying the feeling as the bottle bobs gently up and down. It is not easy to calm the baby down without his father. Speaking of father… She sighs again. She has been sighing too much, she thinks, and thinking about him even more than usual. Baby pulls away from the bottle and belches. She giggles as she wipes his mouth with a cloth she summons. She is about to put it away when the fire flares.
He is standing there, but not quite standing there. His hair is short and ragged, his clothes torn and blood-soaked. He gazes up at her with haunted eyes.
"It's over," he says hoarsely. "God, Lily. It's over."
He collapses on the floor, gasping. Baby squeals in delight. She summons the crib from the corner and ensconces him within, speechless.
"Severus," she whispers as she kneels beside her husband. "Oh, what did he do to you?" She runs a hand through his grimy hair and kisses him on the lips. He gasps.
"I-It's over, Lily," he repeats, dazed. "He knows. I'm free. We're free. I'm sorry I ever put you through this. I'm sorry…" He trails off. She draws him into her embrace and he gasps as her flesh comes into contact with places where his skin has split. She draws away, alarmed. Her hands are slick with blood.
"Severus! You're hurt!" she cries as she grabs the Floo powder from the mantel. "I'll get Madam Pomfrey." She calls for her through the rushing flames and he does not protest for once. His breathing is coming in gasps now yet his eyes are fixed onto the crib at the far corner of the room.
"Give him to me," he whispers. His strength is fading fast. If Madam Pomfrey does not arrive in time… She picks up their son as tears begin to fall. She cannot lose him, she will not lose him, it is not allowed. She places their baby in his arms.
"Harry…" he says, smiling. "Daddy missed you."
Their baby squeals again. He chuckles and coughs, blood dribbling down his chin.
"Daddy loves you," he says. "And Mummy too. Don't forget that. Don't ever forget." She is crying now, not bothering to stop her pain from showing.
"Don't leave, Severus," she implores. "For us."
He smiles.
"It is not my choice, Lily," he wheezes.
"Then fight!" she cries. "Fight for your life! Fight for us! We need you." She chokes.
He closes his eyes and opens them again slowly. His dark eyes search her face. One weak hand reaches to her heart and the other finds his.
"Okay," he whispers, his voice trailing off. His eyes slip shut. His hands fall limp.
The Floo flares and Madam Pomfrey bustles over. She is relieved. She knows he will be alright.