Sunset

Is this the little girl I carried

Is this the little boy at play

The sweet slow song flowed around Severus, laden with memories and love. They'd chosen the song from a film Hermione had shown him, God, years ago now. It was the perfect song for this occasion, sweet and sad and slow, with a melancholy beauty and a weeping, laughing violin.

His Rosalie came to him on the dancefloor, a vision in white and gold, her mad curls a sky for a starfield made of diamonds. The setting sun turned her into a pillar of flame, and her dark eyes were filled with pure joy. He'd seen many expressions in those eyes over the years, and flattered himself that they'd been more happy than not, but never joy like this. He understood it though - he knew how it felt to stand beside the person meant for you and proclaim that you were theirs as they were yours. It filled up the heart until the eyes leaked, as his mother used to say.

She put her hand in his, trusting and beloved, and he spun her into the dance.

When did she get to be a beauty

When did he get to be so tall?

Hermione pulled her eyes away from the dancers and met Scorpius' laughing silvery eyes. He towered over her, six feet tall and with an aristocratic slenderness that nobody who'd seen him move could mistake for weakness.

"You're crying," he said. "Don't you know that's against the rules?"

"My heart's overflowing," she said and took the hankie. It wouldn't do to look like a raccoon today, of all days.

"Well, tell it to stop," he said, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Do you think he's crying?" he asked, eyeing Severus where he was still dancing with Rosalie.

"If he is, he wouldn't let us see," Hermione said with a grin. Her love was a volcano of emotion – and like a volcano, most of it was below the surface. She'd seen tears in his eyes on their wedding day, and on the day she'd given him their daughter. Rosalie was the true love of Severus' life, the apple of his eye and the queen of his heart, and Hermione had never begrudged her daughter that absolute adoration. She was his miracle, his redemption. Though she hadn't been born yet, she was the reason he'd gone to war and the reason he'd survived it. He'd once said that he'd go through the empty years again for the chance to hold his daughter in his arms, safe and beloved.

"He knows I adore her, right?" Scorpius asked, and for a moment he sounded almost vulnerable.

"I think we all knew you adored her before you went to Hogwarts, my boy," Draco murmured from Hermione's other side.

"If Severus could keep her his little girl forever," Hermione said, "he probably would. That being impossible, he's giving her to the best man he knows instead. That's you, by the way."

Scorpius blushed. It showed up as the fainted tinge of pink on his fashionably pale cheeks, but Hermione had known him since he was in nappies and was not fooled.

"I'm going to make her the happiest woman who ever lived," he suddenly burst out, and turned to look at where Severus and Rosalie were dancing. The song was about to come to an end, but it didn't look like either of them were going to let go any time soon.

"You'll have some stiff competition," Hermione said, reaching up to pat him on his shoulder as she passed. Severus turned to her before she reached them, his arm still over Rosalie's shoulders. His eyes were suspiciously damp, but Hermione wisely refrained from saying anything. So like him, to be embarrassed about the few emotional displays that made it past his iron shields.

Rosalie was beaming, her entire face lit up from within as she hugged her father again. Then she and Hermione reached for each other, and Hermione wrapped her daughter in her arms. It was a terrifying thing, being a mother, but at least they had been able to give Rosalie and Scorpius a better world than either of them had been born into. Not perfect, no, but safer in almost every way.

"Go," Severus murmured, turning Rosalie into Scorpius' arms as he arrived. "And be happy, my girl."

The newlyweds danced away, already wrapped up in each other, and Hermione reached up to wipe away a tear. It seemed like only a few days ago that had been her and Severus, dancing together on their wedding day, but it had been more than twenty years. Two decades of love and laughter and tears and spats…that was something special, wasn't it?

Sunrise, sunset

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly fly the years

One season following another

Laden with happiness and tears

"Well, my dear," Severus said, sweeping her into the dance. "Our little girl is leaving the nest."

She smiled up at him, her eyes roaming over his beloved features.

"She's just the first," she said. "We're going to have to do this four more times, you know!"

"Merlin preserve me," he muttered. "At least the others are boys, or I'd be bankrupt!"

Boys and, being, boys, not likely to marry early. Augustus was the only one of their boys who had brought a date. Sebastian said bringing women to weddings gave them 'ideas' – and what kind of ideas did Sebastian not want his girlfriend to get? Malcolm and Harry's eldest were off in a corner somewhere, no doubt planning some kind of mischief. They were adults now, at least in theory, but Hermione couldn't help but wonder if they were ever going to actually grow up. And there, her eyes found their youngest boy, their little miracle. Little Julian had taken his position as ringbearer very seriously, but there was only so much excitement an almost six-year-old could take, and he was currently laid out over three chairs, one arm over his face as he slept oblivious of the noise around him. But that was Julian for you – he could probably sleep through an earthquake or a war.

She turned away from checking on her chicks, and looked up at Severus again. He was her reward, her reason for surviving, and together they'd built the most beautiful family.