Home Life Isn't Simple
Normally, Skyrah took her time to breastfeed her daughter. With such a warm grin on her face, nobody would guess her arms and legs were numb. She relished every rhythmic suck and took the chance to admire Brenna's tiny nose and fingers, always fiddling with her hair tips or bra strap if her hair wasn't hanging loose. Sometimes, Severus watched them as if he were worshipping the most magnificent magical painting he had ever laid eyes on, the kind famous art museums exhibited to enhance their prestige and attract visitors from different continents. Other times, he helped Harry distract little Corbin, who would often devise a strategy to draw his mother's attention to himself.
This time, she couldn't wait for the nursing session to be over. Corbin – snuggled on the sofa beside her with flushed cheeks, sweat on his brow and Nox with its beak against his neck – had her full attention. No strategies had been involved. He hadn't moved from his bed nor eaten anything since he awoke, complaining about a sore throat and body aches. Soup hadn't convinced him. Not even his father's special chocolate cake, the same cake Skyrah drooled at the mere smell of, tempted him.
"He's got chills now."
"Poppy said he only has the flu. He'll be fine, Mum."
Despite Harry's comforting words, Skyrah groaned. "Why did you have to run out of fever-reducing potion?"
"So it's my fault now?" asked Severus with a snort and an arched eyebrow, standing next to Harry, who gave him a pitying look.
The tugging and nibbling on her nipple desisted. Mechanically, Skyrah arranged her clothes, rose to her feet and helped Brenna burp.
"That's not what I meant. I just hate to see our son like this. We could buy some–"
"I'm not buying potions to my competition."
She made a huffing incredulous sound. "Your son is ill!"
"I'm well aware!"
At the shouts, Brenna began to wail. Skyrah cursed under her breath and rocked Brenna, apologizing to her and kissing her, humming the Irish lullaby. It would have worked, as always, if Severus had lowered his voice.
"Draco's been taking care of the shop on his own while I spoke to all my potion ingredients purveyors, asking for mandrake roots!" Skyrah's expression did not soften even as she remembered reading an article about the latest plague that affected mandrakes and the disastrous harvest it had caused. Apothecaries all over the world competed to get their hands on the few that had retained their properties. Potions that had mandrake roots as an ingredient were scarce and expensive that winter, including the one Corbin needed the most. "Pomona told me she knows where to find one. She shouldn't take long."
"How long is the brewing going to take? Must Corbin suffer when Potions for All Afflictions might have some–"
"And then what, Skyrah? Lose my customers? I can already see Skeeter's article headline: Severus Snape: Potions Master fraudster. Or will you ask me to use polyjuice potion and endure the humiliation in secret?"
"Please stop." Louder, Harry repeated, "Stop!"
His parents heard him then. In the middle of the quarrel, they hadn't taken notice of him taking Skyrah's previous seat and caressing Corbin's wavy locks with one hand while holding his small hand with the other.
"He doesn't want you to fight." None of us do, Harry added to himself.
Equally embarrassed, Severus and Skyrah exchanged an apologetic look. Skyrah concentrated on calming their daughter down while Severus accioed the stuffed crow Eileen had made for Brenna. Though it was still officially nameless, Corbin referred to it as Claw to distinguish it from his toy. He had learned that word while helping his father powder griffin claws to brew some strengthening potion, shortly after finding out Skyrah was expecting again. With Claw tucked between Skyrah's chest and Brenna, the baby went back to her usual serene self.
"Sweetheart, do you mind telling Dione, my mother and Narcissa that I wish to cancel today's appointment with Madame Velours?"
Harry opened his mouth and shut it repeatedly, waiting for his mind to come up with an articulate a reply. Severus quickly beat him to it.
"That would be unwise. The wedding is taking place in April. You should start looking for a dress."
"That can wait. Corbin's unwell."
"Madame Velours won't wait. She fixed the appointment under Narcissa's insistence."
"Dad's right. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
Indeed, it was. Harry had heard about the myth of Arachne before receiving his Hogwarts letter. It wasn't until he got her chocolate frog card that he discovered the truth. Arachne, a muggle-born slave with a gift for weaving, escaped her mistress's jealous wrath by self-transfiguring into a spider in an accidental magic episode and later became the first recorded animagus witch. Only the influential and affluent, like the Malfoys, could afford the services of her descendants, Madame Velours and her son being the last to date.
Regardless, Skyrah said, "I'll look for another dressmaker. Please Harry–"
"Don't move from the sofa," ordered Severus. Skyrah squinted at Harry, slightly annoyed he wasn't obeying her. "Madame Velours made Narcissa's wedding dress herself. She looked…"
Skyrah was neither blind nor a fool and had an idea about the adjectives Severus must have been pondering. Not that she blamed him. Narcissa always looked flawless. Skyrah couldn't tell if it was thanks to her natural beauty or her mastery of make-up charms. Either way, she didn't talk about it. That would give the impression that she was jealous, wouldn't it? And maybe she had been lately, just a little, but that didn't mean she'd confess that to anyone but herself.
"Dazzling?"
"Dazzlingly joyous," he clarified. "I want you to experience that as well."
"Do you believe she looked dazzlingly joyous just because of her dress?" she said, not quite concealing the mocking tone.
"I'm fairly certain that wearing a dress by Madame Velours was one of the reasons behind her smile." He inclined his head, his lips ghosting over hers. Her eyes closed automatically, expectant for the upcoming kiss. She received two instead, neither of which landed exactly on her mouth but on each of its corners. The kisses, though shorter than expected, made her beam, perhaps because it showed how much he loved her even if they sometimes disagreed. "There. Your smile. Your sheer happiness. That's what I want, Skyrah, more than anything. I will make sure you feel loved and wanted and beautiful, because that's how you make me feel."
"A little early for the marriage vows, don't you think? Unless you were only practicing…" she jested, although her unsteady voice proved she was overcome with emotion.
"Dad hasn't been practicing with you," countered Harry. "What he said has nothing on the real vows anyway."
"I see you're well-informed. Have you caught him practicing in front of a mirror?"
"He read the vows to me."
She blinked and looked at Severus. "You did what?"
Somehow, the shrug he gave her looked elegant. "I was in need of an opinion. I thought our son, who's been there with us virtually since we met and knows us both well, could provide insightful advice."
"It looks like your dad has it all figured out," Skyrah told Brenna, who was reaching for her mother's pendant.
"We have waited too long to get married. I'm giving my best to make the experience one we both merit. I expect you to do the same, which includes meeting Madame Velours." Skyrah stifled a small groan. "Lucius and Narcissa went to great lengths to persuade her to travel from Marseille for this."
"I don't remember asking them to do that."
"That's insignificant. They are using their fortune and connections as a thank you. If you don't accept the gift, they will be highly offended, especially after declining their offer to celebrate our wedding in their garden."
"I don't mean to offend them. It just isn't good timing," she said, glancing worriedly at Corbin.
"Mum, you don't have a lot of time to find another dressmaker that can get you the dress ready in less than three months. You should already have the dress."
Judging by Severus's silence, he completely agreed with Harry.
"You're right. You're absolutely right. I shouldn't have put this off, but I…" She stopped to study Brenna's features, tracing the cheekbones she had inherited from her father. "I thought I'd regain my figure quickly, like I did after having Corbin. How am I supposed to feel pretty on my wedding day if I'm not comfortable in my own skin? A dress, no matter the designer, won't help me."
Severus was about to speak when he heard something akin to a hiss. He became alert, thinking Corbin was in pain. In contrast, Skyrah was smiling the sort of smile she sometimes gave Severus when he said something she considered sweet, though he wouldn't describe it as such. Harry looked as confused as his father now that he had lost the ability to speak Parseltongue.
"Could you…?" she wondered, encouraging Harry to take Brenna.
He did so in a heartbeat, wondering how Skyrah managed to hold his sister for such long periods of time without ending up with aching arms or back. Perhaps they did ache. She just smiled through the pain, as she was doing while picking up Corbin and sitting next to Harry, with the toddler on her lap.
"Mummy, don't you believe me?"
"You're the beautiful one, Corbin," she croaked in English, and everybody in the room grasped what was going on. Unafraid of catching the flu, she kissed the top of his head and kept cuddling him. "You're a beautiful son. So, so beautiful."
"He's right," Harry said softly. "You have no reason to feel insecure about your looks."
Skyrah shook her head, more touched than she was willing to admit. "Children always reckon their mothers are beautiful."
"That does not mean ours are mistaken," said Severus. "It is ironic to think you are attracted to me but fail to see your beauty. The majority would view it as ludicrous."
"Ludicrous?" she exclaimed with a huff. "For years, all I saw when I looked at the mirror was the person who tormented me the most. You helped me accept and love a body I no longer have."
He put a hand on her cheek and stroked it like he sometimes did after making love to her. "I will help you again, but for that, I need you to meet with Madame Velours. She must have dealt with self-conscious brides before. It will be the first step to take for you to see what I and our sons see when we look at you."
"What's the second?"
He smirked and licked his lips. "Nothing our children should hear."
She blushed, though not as deeply as Harry.
"Mum, we should get going," he interrupted before Severus changed his mind. "I'll help you choose the dress, as we agreed. Grandma Andy and Dione must be waiting in Malfoy Manor already."
Skyrah hugged Corbin a little tighter, unwilling.
"I'll start brewing the potion as soon as Pomona delivers the mandrake root. Our son will be fine."
"Will you be fine with an ill toddler and a four-month-old?"
"I can take care of my children," said Severus, folding his arms across his chest.
"I didn't imply the contrary, but the wedding preparations are taking a toll on us. We're irritable and fatigued and stressed out, and Brenna's had terrible nights lately. Why don't you ask your mother to come over and help you out?"
"There is no need." Severus didn't strike a defensive pose anymore. "Go to Malfoy Manor. Enjoy the afternoon. Nobody wants to make a French witch with a talent as big as her ego wait."
She stood up and helped Corbin lie down on the sofa again, shutting her eyes in pain when his hand searched for hers, trying to make her stay. She took it in hers and gave it a kiss before turning to Severus.
"What if you don't like the chosen dress? Madame Velours is starting to get old, after all. Her magic might be getting a bit rusty."
Severus ignored Harry's snort of exasperation and bent his face so that his lips tickled her ear. "If that unlikely scenario comes true, I'll have another reason to undress you on our wedding night."
It earned him a playful smack on the ribs, followed by a kiss, the kind in which sweetness was rapidly abandoned in favor of desire, chests were pressed together and hands got daring. They remained embraced even after Harry gave a slight cough.
"I love you, Severus."
"I figured that was what your pouncing on me and devouring my mouth like Corbin eats No Melt Ice Cream meant, yes."
"Git," she mouthed, chuckling despite herself.
Although he instantly missed her warmth, he did not stop her when she let go of him to approach Corbin.
"Daddy will brew you a potion that will make you feel better. Harry and I need to go now, but we'll be back soon." She paused, surprised he was so tired he didn't protest, and laid a lingering kiss on his brow. "Rest, my little crow. Close your eyes and hold Nox close."
He complied.
Corbin was lying on a transfigured little mattress in the lab, beneath a blanket sewn by Eileen, one Albus would have adored, given the enchanted, moving phoenixes pattern. Severus could watch over him while preparing the potion ingredients, amongst them, the mandrake root. Still, he couldn't tell if his son was dozing or simply worn out. He made no sound other than turning in search of a comfortable position once in a while.
"Brenna Eileen Snape, are you ready to brew your first potion?" Severus asked his daughter, secure between his arm and hipbone.
The steps were explained as he followed them, the properties of the ingredients listed as he used them, all in his teaching voice. It was something Corbin never minded.
He soon learned that Brenna wasn't Corbin.
Whereas his son looked up at Severus with attentive eyes, she wore that look teen Severus would adopt in Professor Binns's lessons when he thought a fly buzzing against the window was more interesting than whatever the ghost droned on. Baby Corbin jerked his legs in excitement when the liquids changed textures and reached for the occasional bubbles certain boiling potions produced, while Brenna preferred snuggling her cheek against Claw. If the potion belched colorful smoke, far from giggling like Corbin used to at her age, she wrinkled her nose and turned her head away, scratching Severus on the shoulder with her cat-shaped pacifier, courtesy of her godmother.
Severus got moodier the more he tried for her to enjoy the experience. At one point, he found himself comparing Brenna to former students such as Crabbe and Goyle, the sort who wouldn't appreciate the compelling mix of magic, science and art in spite of being in front of their noses. Disconcerted at the correlation his brain had just made, he shook his head.
A few minutes and the potion would be ready.
After cleaning the desk, Severus laid Brenna down on it, at a long distance from the burning cauldron. She rose on her elbows, belly against the wood, and smiled a still toothless smile at him, nearly dropping the pacifier. The adorable sight didn't bring him as much joy as usual. He stared into her dark eyes, his eyes.
"Why don't you like Potions?"
She babbled unintelligible syllables in response, already recognizing the intonation he had used as him expecting a reply.
"Corbin's always been a natural. He delights in potion-making and is still waiting for you to grow up and play Potions with him. He asks every day. I thought… I thought you would be like him in that sense. Like me."
Brenna began to frown. No, it wasn't a frown but a petulant scowl. It took Severus a moment to realize she wasn't angry with him but was merely copycatting his expression, a game she often played with Harry. He didn't give in to it – he was keeping an eye on the almost finished potion – yet he did pat her chubby cheek, eliciting a cheerful sound. Prying fingertips explored his free palm while her eyes analyzed every line and visible vein.
"Interested in Palmistry, instead, aren't you?"
He opened her hand and blew a raspberry on her palm, resulting in a belly laugh so loud Severus wondered if they'd disturbed Corbin. If they had, the toddler was too tired to complain. Brenna took her father's hand and brought it to her mouth, making a sound that was meant to imitate him and leaving a dribble of saliva on it. She was satisfied anyway, for she had produced the desired outcome: Severus's laugh echoed in the laboratory.
"Phineas's portrait will teach you how to do this properly if your Aunt Minerva takes you to my former office and that of your grandfather Albus. He would have doted on you as much as your granny Lee does."
That was how Corbin called Eileen, the nickname she couldn't wait to hear from her clever granddaughter. She kept asking whether Brenna Eileen had said her first word yet.
The baby shot out her hand with a frolicsome smile and cooed. It was the only reason Severus wasn't struck with a hint of sadness upon recalling Albus's death.
"You wish to continue playing Palmistry?" he asked, amused.
Brenna shook her hand, not impatiently or fussily like Corbin, but enthusiastically.
"I'm afraid we are being too boisterous," he said, picking her up. "We should terminate this activity at once so as not to bother your brother."
Since she accepted it quite well, he put the potion into different vials with a wave of his wand and took one.
"Son, your sister and I have brewed fever-reducing potion for you," explained Severus, approaching him. "While it takes effect, you will get sleepy. It's hot, but it doesn't burn. Could you open your mouth? That's it. Perfect."
Corbin had no strength to whine about the bitter flavor left in his mouth even after swallowing. "Is Mummy back? Hawy?"
"Not yet."
"Will Wenna play potions with me?"
"Today?"
"When I'm fine."
Severus smiled sadly. "Brenna may not be amenable, but I will play with you."
Typically, Corbin got disappointed when he was told no, but Severus's fingertips brushing his hair out of his clammy forehead was so soothing Corbin sighed those three words that reminded his father of the meaning of life instead. Severus blamed stress and tiredness for the tears he forced himself to hold back and kissed his temple.
"I love you too, Son. You don't know how much."
Corbin hadn't heard him. His eyes were already closed.
Severus put his index finger on his mouth, hoping Brenna would know not to make a sound, and, with a levitation charm, carried Corbin towards his bedroom, where he tucked him and Nox into bed. Brenna rested her head on his shoulder with a yawn that made the cat pacifier drop on Corbin's bed.
"We don't want to lose this one, my shiny little crow. Your aunt Minerva wouldn't forgive me." Severus muttered, snatching it up. "Let's go to your bedroom for your nap."
Once in her crib, she tugged on one of his cuffs.
"What is it? You want me to stay? You still like me despite your disinclination to Potions?" He began to massage her brow with his thumb, down the bridge of her nose, and back and forth across her cheeks. Only when her eyelids were completely lowered and she breathed deeply did he rasp, "I hope you do. I hope you never hate me like I hate my own father, or used to hate my mum."
After casting spells that would trigger a repetitive noise in case either needed him, he slumped onto the sofa and rubbed his temples, exhaling slowly. Now that the quarters were so peaceful, following the children's example and taking a nap was tempting. He would have given in if it weren't for the Witch Holiday? Magazine he spotted on the coffee table. He had promised Skyrah he'd leaf through the destinations, from Peru to Indonesia, and pay special attention Turkey, her favorite so far. Maybe then they'd finally decide on the place to spend their honeymoon. As soon as he reached the article on Turkey, he understood why Skyrah thought it was perfect for them. It was a country full of historic monuments she was undoubtedly keen on visiting and exotic bazaars that sold the rarest ingredients for both cooking and potion-making. Muggle Turkey had its appeal as well. He wouldn't mind indulging in a Turkish bath with his wife… or two.
By the time Skyrah returned, the magazine was open on his lap, showing the image of what she presumed displayed a Greek Island, with waves that broke on the shore and picturesque white houses encompassed by Mediterranean pines. Half-covered by his hair, only his nose was visible, yet the deep breathing indicated he was asleep. She moved his head gently, fearing his neck would ache in such an awkward position, and removed intrusive locks out of his face, tucking them behind his ears. No sooner had her fingertips withdrawn from his skin than his gruff voice startled her.
"Stay."
"The children–"
"Are napping."
"Is Corbin better?"
"He will be."
Skyrah nodded and landed a thankful kiss on his cheek before sitting down next to him, laying her head on his shoulder.
"I didn't mean to wake you. I'm sorry."
He draped an arm over her shoulders to assure her he forgave her. "Where's Harry?"
"In Hogsmeade with his friends, celebrating Seamus's birthday. He promised he'd come home at about midnight."
Severus hummed. "Have you got the dress?"
"I almost thought I wouldn't! Harry insisted I looked beautiful in all the dresses I tried on, which wasn't much help, good as his intentions were. And Dione and Mum kept disagreeing on which I should choose. Thank Merlin Narcissa was there! She pointed to one dress in Madame Velours's catalog and asked me to try it on, said something about that dress suiting my body shape. There were no more fights and Harry's jaw dropped."
"And you?"
"I was grinning like a fool even before seeing their reactions."
As she was doing now. As Narcissa did over two decades ago on her wedding day.
"I can't wait to see you in it. You'll look stunning."
"Even with those extra pounds I can't seem to lose after having Brenna?"
"Especially with them."
"You truly like them?"
"I'd be a fool not to. I have more places to touch."
It was the right thing to say, for she moved the magazine away and straddled him. With both hands on his cheeks, she brought his face to hers and kissed him soundly.
"I'm sorry about our quarrel earlier," she said slightly out of breath. "I could only think about Corbin and–"
"Skyrah, not now."
"But I want to properly apologize. I know you wanted to– Oh," she gasped when he thrust his hips, his desire for her apparent. These past few days had been frantic, meaning they had fallen asleep as soon as they tumbled into bed. Trying not to look desperate, Skyrah licked her lips, eyes glinting with playfulness. "Here? With me sitting on top?"
"Please," he husked, his breath brushing her earlobe.
There was no way she could deny him. After casting the anticonception charm, his mouth descended to the most sensitive spot on her neck as she toyed with his buttons. She was about to unfasten one when he tensed.
"Don't. The children might wake up soon. It'll have to be quick."
"I don't think I'm wet enough to…" She arched her back. "Oh, yes, I'll get there. Keep touching me."
Severus smirked against her collarbone, one hand on her breast; the other had slid under her skirt and pulled her panties away. He teased not. He knew the pressure she needed, the movement she liked and the rhythm that turned her into a panting mess. Her rosy lips parted, inviting him to kiss her as she grinded on his hand. At some point amid the kiss, his boxers were removed. She raised her hips, his tip already brushing her clit, when the alarm charm went off. Unlike Skyrah, Severus didn't curse. Instead, he rested his forehead against her shoulder with a growl, his breath coming in puffs.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice rough with lust. "I shouldn't have been so insistent when I knew Brenna or Corbin could interrupt us."
"No, no… Not your fault. I want this, I want you, but we can't, not now. I'll go while you…" she glanced down meaningfully and rose to her feet, adjusting her clothes. "Later," she promised, and rushed to the bedrooms of the kids.
The ringing noise was replaced with a muggle song she had learned from Daniel, soft, perfect to relax Severus. It had become one of Brenna's favorites, more so than the Irish lullaby. Her eyes crinkled whenever Skyrah sang "How wonderful life is while you're in the world," as if she understood her mother, or at the very least, felt her love.
The voice led Severus to his bedroom. Skyrah smiled at him from the bed while finishing with the changing of a diaper. Even if she noticed the wan smile he returned, she continued singing and began to suckle the baby, reveling in the experience like she hadn't done earlier.
"I'll cook dinner," he informed her, and was off to the kitchen, leaving a slightly baffled Skyrah behind.
It wasn't typical of him to forget to invite her to join him in the kitchen, much less not to stay and watch them.
About an hour later, Skyrah found him half-asleep on the sofa again. Last night, he had insisted on dealing with their daughter when she awoke in the dead of the night, and it showed. Added to Brenna, Skyrah suspected he had suffered nightmares in which the Final Battle ended tragically. He rarely discussed them with her, but he always sought her warm embrace either to remind himself that Nagini hadn't killed him or that Skyrah was safe. Except last night. He mustn't have wanted to disrupt her slumber.
"Hey," Skyrah started softly. "I've bathed Brenna. I noticed her nails are getting long. We should cut them later, or tomorrow."
"Where's she now?" he asked, shaking his head to wake his mind.
He followed the direction she pointed to and checked that Brenna was on the play mat her godfather Draco had given her, fairly close to the table they'd have dinner at.
"She'll probably fall asleep by the time we finish eating," said Skyrah. "We can call it a night early. You need rest. I'll handle her tonight, all right?"
Still seated, he hugged her by her midsection, resting his cheek on the place he used to when she was pregnant and talked to their unborn children. It was one of the areas some of those few rebellious pounds had installed themselves in, no matter the potions she drank and the exercise she forced herself to do. She hadn't started a diet. His food was too good for her to renounce, or so she claimed.
"Severus, you aren't okay, and it isn't only tiredness. Do you think you've got the flu too?"
"No. I just haven't had a good day."
"You said Corbin would get better."
"He will, but Brenna…"
"Was she fussy while I was away?"
"She never is." She waited patiently for him to elaborate, combing his hair with her fingers until he revealed, "We brewed our first potion."
"What happened?"
She didn't say it – she trusted him – but Severus knew she had just imagined their daughter almost causing an accident or intoxicating herself with a potion ingredient. He didn't blame her, given how weary he was.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"That's the matter."
"I don't understand."
He snorted and began reciting the inscription of his chocolate frog card in a derisive tone, "Severus Snape, war hero, former spy, prodigious potioneer… And now father of a daughter who doesn't evince the slightest interest in potion-making."
Her fingers resumed their caresses on his scalp, relieved it wasn't something grave. "She's a baby."
"Corbin was hours old when I first introduced him to Potions. He was perceptive, curious."
"He liked the sound of your voice. He recognized his father."
"Perhaps, but he seemed to be keen on Potions ever since. His fondness for it has only grown over time, whereas Brenna appeared totally uninterested."
"She may grow to like Potions in the future." By the hard lines on his face, he had little faith in that. "Would it be so bad if she never did?"
"When I brew with Corbin, when I teach him and let him stir, or help him smash or powder, when I share my passion with him and he looks up at me in sincere admiration, I feel…" He trailed off. Words fell short to express his feelings. "I thought I'd have that with my daughter."
"Are you disappointed with her?"
"I'm scared. I never shared a bond with Tobias, even if I tried. He never spent time with me other than to harm me."
Skyrah pulled back, lifting his chin to gaze into his troubled eyes. "You'd never treat our baby like he treated you."
"That doesn't mean we're going to have a good relationship. How am I supposed to form a bond with my child if she hates something I devote hours to both for work and pleasure? Will she grow tired of me? Will she grow to hate the smell of potions like I hate the smell of cheap beer? Will she feel like we're so different she can't talk to me?"
"Harry isn't as passionate as you or Corbin about Potions but—"
"Not the same. You know why we bonded, why we welcomed him home in the first place."
Skyrah gave his jawline a brief caress and looked at Brenna, still in the play mat, with a pensive expression on her face. The corner of her lips raised slowly, eyes sparkling with the anticipation of a plan.
"Watch over her. I'll come back in a second."
She left before he could ask her what exactly she was machinating.
He got closer to Brenna, who was lying on her tummy with a hand seeking a screech owl dangling rattle that hooted if squeezed. It slipped through her fingers once. Twice.
Hoo! Hoo!
She opened her mouth, round-eyed, and dissolved into giggles that brought a faint smile to Severus's face. The cat pacifier was on a mat corner, forgotten. It must have dropped while grinning so much. He wondered if she'd grow up to be a cheerful young lady or if it was just a phase that would pass in her teens. Maybe earlier.
Skyrah arrived with a heap of toys in her arms, from Nox and Claw to sensory balls of different sizes and colors. She laid them all on the floor near the play mat and picked Brenna, who was chortling again after clutching a meowing kneazle.
"Levitate the toys," Skyrah instructed, more strictly than intended. "Twirl them around her, let her reach some."
"With the aim of…?"
"Playing with her. Favoring her motor skills. Letting her explore textures and magic. My mother told me she used to do that with Dione and me."
Swish, flick, and Claw soared in front of Brenna. She moved her arms towards it, squealing.
"More!" exclaimed Skyrah, pleased with Brenna's response.
Severus teased their daughter, bringing the toys close enough to catch, only to move them away. Corbin would have made a fuss at such an act. Brenna, however, kept trying. Her arms and clasp were still clumsy and weak, though, at times, she attained her goal and took the toy to her mouth, dropped it and chose her next prey. Through it all, Brenna kept laughing and making face expressions so hilarious her parents laughed alongside her. It was the kind of scene Harry would photograph.
At one point, little arms groped for something in the air. Severus took pity on Brenna and brought an orange ball of the size of a plum in front of her. She pushed it away. Nox went next. It was a good thing Corbin was sound asleep or he'd have been deeply offended his sister had injured his avian companion.
"She must be tired of the game," Severus supposed.
"Not yet. She wants to grab something."
But what? Despite the fact that there were no levitated toys in front of her, Brenna still opened and shut her palms and looked straight at…
"Oh," mumbled Skyrah, bringing Brenna near Severus.
It took the baby only a few seconds to touch his hooked nose and grin at him with those lively eyes of hers. Was she mirroring his own gaze or did her eyes shine because she genuinely felt joyful? Both, he realized, becoming aware of the emotion rushing through his veins, as intense as what he felt when he and Corbin completed a potion. He stole her from Skyrah and kissed the top of her head lingeringly.
"How do you feel?"
"No words would describe it accurately."
"That good, mmh? Funny, Potions weren't involved," Skyrah quipped before getting serious. "She loves you. She truly does, even if you believe you won't share the bond you have with Corbin."
"Do you think she understands what love is?"
"Not as we do yet, but you don't have to understand it to feel it. How can she not feel love, when she's the very definition of it?"
He gazed down at Brenna, entertained with a button of his, and back at Skyrah. The failed attempts, the self-doubt, the anguish, that one visit they made to Saint Mungo's, fearing the curse that had almost killed her was affecting their ability to conceive, the relief when the healer assured them they could still make a baby... He remembered it all. The other pregnancies had been quick, unexpected. Brenna had taken her time to come to the world, and when she did, Skyrah had bled too much, and Severus had become a mass of nerves. They had struggled. Their love had grown.
"You'll create another bond with her, Severus, the same way your bond with Harry is different from that you have with Corbin. None is better than the other. They're different, and they're there for you to cherish."
Severus caressed Brenna's hair. She made a sound similar to the one Minerva sometimes made when Corbin petted her in her cat form.
"I love her. I loved her even before holding her, even before naming her."
"I know," said Skyrah, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You'll find other interests to share with her. I promise."
"It won't be Palmistry," he half-joked half-meant. "She studied my life and head lines quite thoroughly earlier."
"Let's not tell Sybill just in case she spreads rumors about Brenna being a seer." In a much serious tone, she added, "It's too soon to tell what she likes. Don't worry so much, love."
He froze. While she reminded him that she loved him daily, it never was in form of a pet name, something fairly odd from her part.
Sweetheart.
Little one.
My brave boy.
My little crow.
She used them frequently, coated with a honeyed voice. Inspired by her and motivated by how content the receiver was whenever they heard her, he had given Brenna one which Skyrah had added to her repertoire: my shiny little crow. That she was a fan of terms of endearment was indisputable, as was the fact that her calling him love made his heart miss a beat.
"Love?" he asked, voice fragile.
"My heart's taken. Would you rather I called you honey? Dear? Cuddle bear? You can be quite cuddly after all," she teased with a confident pose, one Severus would have bought if she hadn't touched her pendant of the crows. "No? What about hot lips? Your lips are so kissable. Or lovey cauldron. That's quite self-explanatory."
"Stop. Joking."
She held back a laugh at his grimace, identical to the one Corbin made when he smelled broccoli. "Oh, I got it: sexy arse."
"Sexy…" His eyes narrowed. "I was under the impression that you find my voice and my hands sexy, not my rear."
"If you had eyes at the back of your head you'd see how much I appreciate this as well." She stroked his butt, making him gasp. "It commands my rapt attention when you wear those grey muggle jeans."
"I'll have to wear them more often," he said, biting his bottom lip as a reaction to her pinching one of his buttocks playfully.
"Is sexy arse the winner then?"
He took one step back to disentangle himself from her and did his best to give her a crooked smiled and pretend the tugs on his hair caused by Brenna were not that hurtful.
"I know that love slipped but that you liked it, so now you're covering it up with your enticing hands coupled with the most ridiculous pet names you can think of in hopes I will agree to being called love."
"Is it working?" He lifted an eyebrow, making her sigh. "Of course not. I suspected; that's why I never used pet names with you."
"Until now."
"I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry if it bothered you."
But that naturalness was what had made it special, what had taken his breath away. He had felt something similar to the time Harry and Corbin called him Dad for the first time, like that was meant for him even though he would have never thought he'd like to be called something different to his name. Snivellus, sniveling coward, wuss… All the nicknames he had received had been pejorative save for Sev. Skyrah had never used it, probably because she, despite having no reason to feel jealous, didn't wish to remind him of neither his childhood friend nor his mother when she addressed him. But love… Love was simple and meaningful and made him feel special.
"I find love tolerable as long as you use it in private."
"As tolerable as you used to find me at the beginning of our relationship?"
"Precisely."
That was all the reassurance she needed. She took a step closer and leaned in to give Severus what he expected to be a long kiss when a familiar repetitive noise alerted them all. An exchanged look and the Snapes hurried to Corbin's bedroom.
"Mummy?"
"Sweetheart, I'm here." She sat by the edge of the bed. "I'm here."
"Hawy?"
"He hasn't arrived yet… Does anything ache?"
"Not so much."
Skyrah put her palm on his forehead and another on hers to check the temperature. Although his fever wasn't so strong, he still had it.
"You haven't eaten anything today. Aren't you hungry?"
"A bit."
"That's a good sign, Son. It means the potion is working," explained Severus. "It's dinnertime now. Care to join us?"
He lifted his arms towards his mum as an answer.
It wasn't long until the plates were empty and the siblings fell asleep listening to his father reading Hansel and Gretel.
After tucking Corbin up in his bed and settling Brenna in her crib, Skyrah guided Severus to the living room with the excuse it was about time they rested, and seized the Witch Holiday? Magazine from the couch.
"I take it you read it," she said, showing him the article on Turkey.
"I did."
"And…?"
He grinned lopsidedly at her, teasing her with every second that passed in complete silence, until she realized that, if he hadn't liked it, he wouldn't have hesitated to tell her so with a deep sneer on his forehead. With a squeal and a newfound agility, she jumped towards him and kissed him deeply, causing the magazine to drop and Severus to lose his balance. He ended up with a blow on his forehead, sprawled on the sofa with her on top.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed, but rather than bringing her hand to her forehead, she rubbed his soothingly, right where she suspected he'd get a bump. "My enthusiasm always leads to accidents."
"Extraordinarily pleasant accidents."
The comment got a silvery laugh out of her, half-muffled by his kisses, until nothing but faint moans left her mouth.
"I knew the bazaars would convince you," she sighed, closing her eyes when his lips targeted the spot where her jaw met her ear.
"As a matter of fact, Muggle Turkish baths seem even more promising."
"Oh, Merlin, yes! We need to take one, and visit the Blue Mosque, and the oldest wizarding library in the world and—"
He kissed her mouth again, incapable of resisting her when she acted as excited as a kid on her birthday. She responded in kind, caressing his nape and deepening the kiss. He knew where this was leading to, especially when she re-arranged them so that she was sitting astride him like they had been before Brenna interrupted them.
"Quick or slow?"
"Quick, because I need it, and so do you," she emphasized, brushing his erection. "And slow, after the quickie, because I remember you saying something about helping me feel beautiful, and changing my mind is no easy task."
"Twice?"
"Unless it's too much. We can postpone this."
Despite being genuine, it didn't escape his notice how she grinded on his bulge, or how she bit her bottom lip and made him wish he was sucking on it.
"Would you mind it if I used my mouth on you in the second round?"
"I was expecting it. That's how you made me feel truly beautiful for the very first time."
"In that case, I will not leave you unsatisfied."
"Are you sure you aren't too tired? I'd understand."
"I'm not too tired for this. It may even help me sleep profoundly without resorting to dreamless sleep potions."
She kissed his neck scar. "Next time you have nightmares, wake me up. I want to be there for you. Let me."
He smiled tenderly at her and grasped her chin, tilting it down for a chaste kiss that served as a sealed promise. It shouldn't have surprised her that he went from caring to impatient, splaying his hands across her lower back while his mouth sucked on her neck. He was hiking up her skirt when they heard knocks. She cursed and would have got off him if it weren't for his hand kneading her thigh and his lips kissing her visible cleavage.
"Severus, I need to answer."
His smile tickled her chest. "Oh, silly me. I was under the impression that you needed me to keep touching you, to feel me inside you…"
He lowered the pitch of his voice just so, touched her through the damp fabric covering her sex just so. With half-lidded eyes, Skyrah parted her lips with a breathed yes. Knocks blended with a strangled moan that escaped her when he pushed the panties aside and inserted two fingers, his thumb drawing circles on her clit. Her hips rolled, seeking the pleasure that had been denied for too long.
"Do you need more?"
Yes, if her impetus to unbuckle his belt was of any indication.
"You enjoy teasing me way too much, Severus."
More knocks, persistent and loud, added to the torn look in her eyes silenced his deep-throated chuckles.
"You want to stop," he said rather lamely.
"No, but I think…" She swallowed. "I think we should. They'd have gone away if it weren't important."
"Skyrah…"
But she was already removing herself from his lap, taking her wand. Severus looked at the ceiling and took a big breath. If not, he would have groaned in frustration and most likely awakened the kids.
"Severus?"
"Mmh?"
"Stroke yourself slowly."
"Is my own hand supposed to substitute you?" he snapped, and berated himself for taking such tone with her, only to spy her impish grin.
"I don't want you to lose this," she explained, bringing his hand to his crotch. "I'm planning on finishing what we started as soon as I'm back."
She kissed his forehead briefly, darted towards the door of their quarters and, next thing Severus knew, he heard a yelp of surprise: "Harry!"
So much for Skyrah's plans. Severus wouldn't have been able to maintain his arousal even if he tried. She must have been distracting Harry, giving Severus time to compose himself, for they didn't come into the living room until a while later.
"Hello, Dad."
"Son," he said with a nod as a greeting. "Are you okay? We thought you'd be drinking firewhiskey with Mr. Finnigan and your friends at this hour."
"I was too worried to enjoy the party, so I cut it short."
"Worried? Are my potioneering skills so unreliable?"
"I know you must have made and given Corbin a perfect potion. It's not him I'm worried about. You, on the other hand…"
"What about me?"
"No offense, Dad, but this morning you looked like you hadn't slept at all. After spending the afternoon taking care of Corbin and Brenna, I imagine you're… exhausted."
"I don't need a babysitter, thank you very much," said Severus in a sarcastic tone, though his chest felt warm, and he felt, perhaps, a bit grateful that Harry was willing to renounce to a night out with his mates to help him.
"I'm still here, and I intend to deal with my siblings if they wake up at night."
"Sweetheart," Skyrah intervened. "You don't have to look after us."
"But I like it. I like having a family to look after."
She smiled sadly – it still pained her that he had been left an orphan and had had no family until he was a teenager already – and brought his hand to her mouth, kissing it.
"You're a good man."
Harry squeezed her hand and eyed Severus, whose expression had softened.
"You must have had dinner already," he guessed, to what Harry responded with a nod.
"But if you're so adamant to see me leave…"
"We aren't," assured Skyrah right before Harry could accio his coat.
"Great. For a moment, I thought I had interrupted something."
Harry was kidding…
Or not, given his awkward laugh.
It took all of his spy skills for Severus not to blush and confirm his suspicions. Skyrah, determined to change the subject, picked the magazine from the floor.
"Actually, we were about to celebrate that we've already chosen the honeymoon destination." She cocked her head towards the open magazine in her hands and tapped at the heading.
"Turkey? That's brilliant!"
Harry began to ask questions about what they were going to do in the country, as nosy as an auror was meant to be to investigate cases. Given nothing was truly planned, Severus viewed the improvised interview as misinformation. To make matters worse, Harry sat between his parents, which meant Severus couldn't lay his hand on Skyrah's knee, teasing her until they were beneath the bedsheets, free to relieve their sexual tension. He supposed these idle conversations, coupled with the bad timing his three children had, were part of home life.
Home life.
It was not something Severus thought he would need, much less like. The mere idea had appeared mundane to his young self, foreign. Then he had immersed himself completely in it and discovered the truth: being a parent and a husband-to-be could be maddening, overwhelming, taxing, and overall monotonous.
Do the chores.
Run his business.
Deal with customers as fussy as Skyrah, or worse.
Don't forget to eat.
Watch out Brenna doesn't put anything potentially dangerous in her mouth.
Make sure Corbin doesn't cause mischief with Peeves.
Thank Merlin Harry was old enough to tie his own shoes.
Steal kisses from Skyrah.
Fall asleep, more often than not, before having sex.
Repeat. Day after day after day.
But then Severus would remember he had a home of his own to share with a supportive wife who called him love, a grateful son who took care of them, an affectionate toddler with a knack for potions and a jolly baby that was not made for them but that had bewitched Severus nonetheless. He'd look for the oddities in the routine, for the beautiful details that were too easy to miss. As he did in that very moment. He saw how eager Skyrah was to fantasize about the future, turning the pages that showed famous Turkish landscapes; how happy Harry looked, as happy as Severus imagined he was with friends, maybe more. And Severus found himself entering the idle conversation with a genuine smile, knowing that, if asked, he'd tell his younger self how extraordinarily fulfilling domestic bliss could be.
...
A/N: I hope the requesters and those who didn't request enjoyed this fluffy piece! I'll be working on the next one-shot ;)