Thursday, November 26th, 1981

Hogwarts' Dungeons

Severus was trying to grade the papers piling up on his desk but he could barely keep his eyes open long enough to read a full sentence. He'd just returned from yet another successful hunt with Alastor Moody; Severus was helping the Aurors' Department in the capture of the Death Eaters.

He had hunted with Moody until two in the morning, then he arrived in his quarters at the castle and worked on the potions for the Order and on the essays. He hadn't slept a whole night in three weeks.

Physically and mentally, he was exhausted.

But out of all the Marked followers, there was only the Lestranges left to be captured – however, that was something he didn't think would happen soon.

Not counting the Malfoys and the other rich ones, of course. Those will never be arrested.

Severus rubbed his eyes and tried again to read the essay in front of him, while also keeping an eye at the four cauldrons that were lit on the large worktable a few metres from him, all of them mere minutes away from being ready – at the same time.

"Damn it," he cursed and just wrote a big red T on the student's paper.

Resting his hands on the desk, Severus stared at all the papers in front of him; there were still at least fifty essays for him to grade and it was already past four in the morning.

It could be worse. He thought, letting out a dejected breath, reminding himself that he had chosen that path, and that his atonement for all his bad choices wouldn't be made of bubble baths and restful nights, followed by a good breakfast.

Azkaban would be much much worse.

Bubbling sounds brought him back to reality and he rose his achy body from the chair, limping towards the long work table, where four cauldrons were boiling noisily and the spoons he had enchanted had stopped stirring, so he got vials and corks and bottled them up.

Then he dragged himself back to his desk, sitting and reaching for another essay; but as Severus touched his quill to the paper to write down some notes, nothing happened – the quill was dry; so he dipped it into the ink container but it came out still dry – there was no ink left.

"Fucking stupid quill!" he growled, throwing it into the fireplace, the ink container next.

The sound of glass breaking snapped him out of the all-consuming rage fit and he stopped, admitting he had reached his limit and had to rest.

Severus stared at the flames in the fireplace for a moment, his eyes slowly closing while he pondered asking the kitchens for some food.

But then he remembered the conversation he'd had with the Headmaster the previous day and the anger returned.

FLASHBACK

"I don't want an assistant!" said Severus, sitting in front of Dumbledore's desk, looking at the headmaster indignantly.

"My son, if you don't accept any help, I'll be forced to remove you from your teaching duties," Dumbledore stared at him for a moment, "Last week you put half of you students on detention; even Slytherins!"

"They were partying in the Common Room. Should I have just let them get drunk and fuck on the sofa?"

"They wouldn't be the first ones," commented Dumbledore, watching the man in front of him turn visibly uncomfortable. Then he continued: "You will have an assistant, Severus. I summoned you here not to ask your opinion on the matter, but to give you the chance to choose someone, after what happened to Lancelot. Do you have anyone in mind?"

"No. I don't know anyone who would be able to work quietly with me and not blow up my laboratory with a simple Dittany concoction," he growled.

"Then I'll ask Smethwyck to send someone else. And you won't send them running this time!"

"Yeah? We'll see," he replied, taking that as a challenge.

END OF FLASHBACK

"Fucking manipulative..." Severus growled, giving in to his hunger and getting up to ask the kitchens for a sandwich.

Dumbledore was adamant that he needed an assistant. The last one, Healer Lancelot, had lasted four days.

And if I up my game, the next one will last even less! He thought, with a smirk.

St. Mungus

5 p.m.

Florence walked out of the Janus Thickey Ward, after having administered yet another potion to her friends Frank and Alice Longbottom.

It was the third potion she had come up with in the last ten days since she had returned to work; she was glad to having seen some improvement already. They both had reacted to funny cartoons after the first potion and, after the second, Frank had looked lovingly at the Herbology book she'd given him.

After that third potion she'd just given them, she hoped to see some more improvements in two days.

Despite the hope of seeing them better that her concoctions gave her, Florence was running out of ideas; the special potion she had created and upgraded weekly for Frank and Alice was making some difference, but it wasn't a cure – and she feared there wasn't any.

If only I could reach out to Severus. I know he could help me! Stupid stubborn frustrating man! she thought angrily.

She was on her way to the restrooms when she walked by the Healer-in-charge's office and heard Lancelot shouting at Smethwyck: "I'm not going back there! Nothing you can say would possibly make me accept being mistreated daily! Especially when I was there trying to help him! For free!"

"I understand Lancelot, and I won't force you to go back. But that just gets me back to where I started," said Smethwyck, clearly frustrated.

Florence knocked on the door.

"Excuse me," she said, walking in, "I just want to let you know that everyone out here is being able to listen to your conversation. Maybe cast a Silencing Spell..."

"Thank you, Florence," said Smethwyck, with a smile, "Lancelot is just under a lot of stress and it's my fault," he looked at the healer, "I'm sorry for making you go through that. You are a great healer and I respect that you don't want to go back."

Then he looked at Florence with a sudden idea, "Maybe someone more assertive than you would work."

Lancelot laughed, realizing what the professor was saying, "Florence will have him by the balls in two days. On his knees after three!"

Florence frowned, having absolutely no idea what they were talking about.

"My dear," said Prof. Smethwyck, "I might have one last favour to ask of you before you are no longer my student."

She closed the door and walked closer to his desk, "What is it, Professor? I'll be happy to help."

"I sent Lancelot to do a favour to Prof. Dumbledore, who's a great friend of mine. However, Albus needs help not for himself but for a person that is rather anti-social-" he made a face of displeasure.

"Irrational asshole are the words you're looking for," said Lancelot, clearly bitter at that person.

"So you want me to help Prof. Dumbledore help someone else?" Florence asked.

"Yes. Could you do that? I'll sign your papers declaring you a fully trained Mediwitch tomorrow morning instead of waiting another month – as much as it pains me to know I won't have you here anymore. What do you say?"

"Of course," she nodded, "That works for me."

Smethwyck sighed in relief, "I'll let Dumbledore know and you can go home and wait for his letter," he got up and reached out his hand for her, "It will be my absolute honour to declare you a fully trained Mediwitch, Florence. You were the best student I've had in all the years I've been teaching in this hospital."

She blushed and shook his hand, "Thank you, professor."

Friday, November 27th 1981

Delacour Manor

Florence stirred in bed, waking up a bit tense – she hadn't been sleeping well for the last three weeks.

At first she thought it was because of all the losses she'd faced, but slowly she started to realize it was because of Severus – something was wrong with him.

She had dreamed of him nearly every night of that month and he always looked tired, sometimes he looked hurt and even limped.

She always tried to touch him, but he avoided her hand and, no matter how loud she called him, he never looked at her. It was like he was trying to keep her out – and that had her close to tears.

Florence was still waiting for an apology for what he had said to her about a month ago; she was still heartbroken over the loss of their baby – but she worried about Severus, she knew he was suffering for their baby just as much as she. But she had the twins to brighten up her days and heal her heart with their love – he had no one.

Eileen said he hadn't gone home since that Halloween night and that he hadn't replied to any of her attempts of communication. She said she'd even sent him a howler – Florence would've loved to see his face with a howler screaming at him.

She turned on the bed, still smiling because of the howler thought, and looked at the clock, understanding why the twins weren't on her bed: it was nearly noon, they had long gone to the daycare centre.

Tiffany must have got them ready for Eileen to pick up. She thought, lying on her side and looking out of the window. The snow was falling slowly, covering the village in white – she was always amazed by how Hogsmeade was able of getting even more beautiful in the winter.

Florence closed her eyes and tried to rest a little more, for she didn't have to go to the hospital anymore; she was, officially, a fully trained Mediwitch.

It's time to start planning the opening of my clinic.

She'd work on that right after she'd finished helping Dumbledore, as Prof. Smethwyck had asked her to.

It was half past twelve when Florence walked downstairs to have lunch, reminding herself to send Augusta Longbottom a letter explaining to her that she'd need her written authorization to keep on being responsible for Frank and Alice's treatment, now that she was no longer a mediwitch at St. Mungus.

Flotence had just sat at the table when the doorbell rang. Knowing that Tiffany was in the kitchen and Melody was busy in the library, Florence got up to answer the door herself.

"Prof. Dumbledore," she was surprised to see him on her doorstep.

"Can I join you for lunch, my dear?" he asked.

"Of course, come on in. Prof. Smethwyck said I'd be receiving a letter from you," she closed the front door and walked him to the table.

"Well, I sat down to pen a letter this morning, but when I asked him the name of the person that he was sending to help me and he said it was you, I had to come talk to you in person."

"You should come by Floo next time. No reason to face the snow."

"I must admit I apparated right in front of your house. You'd have to be pouring Pepper Up potion down my throat if I had walked all the way here. However, I wouldn't mind a little bit of sherry to warm up, if you have it, dear."

"Of course. Let's sit at the table and I'll ask Mel to get us some. My father loved sherry, I have a lot of bottles down at the cellar."

"Tom's sherry? Even better," said Dumbledore, smiling wickedly.

They sat at the dining table and Florence looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

"You know, Florence," Dumbledore began, "I'm a great believer that things always find a way to work themselves out. We just have to give them a nudge in the right direction."

Tiffany brought them their food and Melody the bottle of sherry and two goblets.

Florence poured them the sherry, frowning at the strangeness of his words.

"What is it exactly that you need me to do, Dumbledore?"

"I need you to save Severus," he said before sipping his sherry.

She stopped cutting her steak and looked at him, concerned and angry.

"Is he bleeding somewhere while we sit here and enjoy lunch?"

"No. He's physically fine. But he's had a very hard month. He can't handle all his work for the Order, plus he's duties as a teacher and as a potions master. We are still hunting Death Eaters and he's been helping the Aurors. Somedays he returns to the castle at five to be up to teach by seven. Oftentimes he doesn't even sleep, for we need potions, so he stays up preparing them."

"He's burning out," she nodded, understanding why she'd been seeing him so exhausted in her dreams, "You want me to assist him."

"Yes. But he's not just burning out, he's killing himself, Florence. I believe he thinks he has no reason to keep on going."

She gulped nervously and sipped her sherry, not saying anything.

Dumbledore continued: "He thinks you hate him."

"I could never hate him – sometimes I wish I could," she sighed, "But I'm still waiting for him to come around and apologise-"

"Then you'll die before you ever get the chance to hear he's sorry," said Dumbledore, ominously, "We both know that, as brilliant as he is, Severus is not an emotionally intelligent man. He spent years being his father's punching bag, and that has destroyed any and all of Eileen's good work regarding his emotional development."

Florence ate in silent for a moment, then she said: "I get it, Dumbledore. I haven't had a loving father either, as you very well know, however I have never thrown in Severus' face that he was a slut – specially after he had just lost a baby," she added, sharply.

Dumbledore could see that she was still hurting.

"I know it hasn't been a full month since that night, but if you don't reach out to him, you'll never have a chance to live this love."

Florence looked torn; her heart pounding in a mix of worry, anger and yearning.

"You said my father will return someday, so Severus will be at risk, if I-"

"Someday, Florence!" Dumbledore interrupted her with a hint of exasperation, "It can be ten, twenty years until your father returns!" he covered her hand with his, "Dear, I love both of you like my own children. I want to see you happy, and that will only happen once you two finally get together – for real, not just for an occasional horizontal refreshment."

His choice of words had Florence nearly spitting out her wine, she looked at him laughing.

"Wow. I wasn't expecting that!" she chuckled and shook her head, focusing on what he was asking her to do: "And does he even want me to be his assistant?"

"Nope. He doesn't want any assistant. You're the only person I'm certain he won't kick out of the castle in tears."

"Really? Last time I met him, he hurt me deep enough to have me crying for days."

"He was jealous, he spoke out of fear of not being your baby's father – which, in his mind, would be happening for a second time."

She frowned, getting angry, "And I simply have to accept that instead of talking to me like an adult, in the future, every time he gets jealous, he'll throw insults at me? You're saying I should just hear them? Even smile at him as he says them? Maybe thank him as well?"

"No," his voice louder and less kind than usual, "But if you want an apology, you'll have to go there and force one out of him! He's not going to come here to offer you one!" he paused and looked at her: "Do you love him?"

Florence glared at him, outraged that he'd even ask her that, "Of course I do! I dream about him every night! I can see that he's suffering!"

"So come to Hogwarts! Show him that all he has to do is talk to you and say he's sorry and you'll be his!"

She shook her head, "I need to think about it," and she pushed her plate away, reaching for the dessert (chocolate mousse).

Dumbledore looked at her in annoyance, but he conceded: "Alright," then he finished eating, "I'll need you to live in the castle during the time you are helping him, so plan on taking your kids with you."

Florence ate a bit of her dessert, before saying: "Not a problem. They spend the day at the daycare centre. So they'll only go to the castle in the evenings."

Dumbledore drank the rest of his sherry and smiled at her, "Thank you for the delicious lunch, Tiffany is as amazing a cook as ever," he stared at Florence, seeing that she seemed troubled, "Can you let me know your decision tomorrow night? Is that enough time for you?" he asked, standing up.

"Yes, it is."

And the Headmaster left through the Floo Network.

Saturday, November 28th, 1981

At a Park in Little Whinging

"Stay away from the pond and do not do anything magical, ok?" Florence was reminding her sons of the rules of playing in a muggle park as she pretended to be fixing both their coats, but was actually making sure they had a Heating Charm on.

The boys nodded, saying: "Yes, mum."

"Go and have fun!"

And the two dark-haired boys ran towards the swings of the playground.

Florence joined Remus on a bench nearby, from where they could watch the boys playing, at the same time that Florence could keep an eye on a certain tall woman with a double stroller a few metres from them.

Petunia Dursley took her own son and Harry Potter every Saturday to that park. So that was Florence's fourth Saturday going there, for she needed to know that Harry was fine.

"I hate this..." she murmured, glaring at Petunia, "I wish I could just go there and take him away from her."

"I know," said Remus, "Did you get to meet her?"

"No. Whenever I was at the Evans' she never left her room. And the day Lily got married, Petunia didn't even go to the wedding. But Severus told me about her. She was jealous that Lily was a witch and she wasn't."

Remus fell silent, wondering if that was a good time to ask Florence what Dumbledore had told him to ask; he decided it was: "Flor, why don't you talk to Severus?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms defensively, "And why do I have to talk to him? He's the one who owes me an apology."

"Which you'll never get, if you wait for him to come to you," he paused, noticing she wasn't going to say anything, so he added, chuckling: "Still can't believe he thought you had slept with me and then ran to save his life and slept with him – all in the same night."

"Yes. Very compassionate of him, to question who had I slept with as I cried the loss of his child," she bitterly said.

Remus grimaced, it had been truly heartless of Severus, "He has been miserable this past month," he said, "Severus has never been the most polite and charming person to be around, but now? The guys hunting Death Eaters with him say he's insufferable. Only Moody can stand him."

She narrowed her eyes at him, realizing what was happening there, "Dumbledore asked you to talk to me, didn't he?"

"I won't lie to you: yes, he did. He said I should tell you to run to the castle and wait naked on Severus' bed."

She snorted, "After his horizontal-refreshment comment, I don't doubt he said that."

"Well, those were his exact words. And I really don't need to know what that refreshment one meant."

Florence sighed, "He wants me to be Severus' assistant for the next thirty days. I have to send him my reply tonight."

"You're going, right?" Remus said.

"I don't know, Moony," she shook her head, "I'm ready to receive his apology and go back to what we used to have... some flirting, meaningful conversations, some fights, and the occasional hot sex."

"Is that all you want from him?" he frowned.

"No. Of course not!" she closed her eyes, daydreaming as she continued: "I want to marry him! I want to be able to talk to him about everything, be it silly or serious; I want to sleep in his arms every night – have more of his babies! But the war is not truly over. This is just a hiatus. My father will come back-"

"It might take decades, Florence!" Remus nearly shouted.

She tilted her head, "It might, but it might not."

"Flor..." Remus knew he had to put some sense into her, "The boys already know who their dad is and they love him. Severus deserves to know that those incredible kids are his! They are only three years old and can do amazing things; they are both Animagi who can already – and wandlessly! – control their animal form!"

"Right," she scoffed, "And who says Severus will even believe me? He might accuse me of making it all up! That Sirius is their dad and that he wants nothing to do with them," She voiced one of her greatest fears: "Can you imagine how that would break the boys' hearts?"

"Have a little more faith in him, Flor! He can doubt you for a second, but just one look at James and he won't be able to say Sirius fathered that kid!"

She had to agree with him then: "True. And how I would love to see him dealing with Jamie."

"Even I've dreamed about it," admitted Remus, making her laugh, "James will break him easily!"

"Or he'll fulfil all that little devil's wishes. And then we'll all be doomed."

"Quite possible too," Remus said, smiling. Then he looked at her, touching her hand: "Flor, you know what you have to do. Just let it happen."

She let out a breath, knowing he was right and that she had the future of her relationship with Severus in her hands.

Later that day

Delacour Manor

"Remus, get James!" he heard Florence shout at the same time that he saw a small black bear cub running from the bathroom.

"C'mon, James, stop that!" he ordered, going after him and quickly getting him, "You can't beat werewolf speed, little cub," he winked at the kid.

James transformed back into his human form with a grumpy face, "Not fair! I want to be a werewolf too!"

Remus smiled at the kid's innocent wish, "Now, don't say that. You know I get sick every month."

"But you're so cool! And you're a werewolf! A wanna be cool too!"

Florence picked up the boy from Remus's arms, "Let's talk about this again when you grow up, ok?" she said, putting him in the tub.

"Ok, mummy," James replied with a yawn.

"Where's Nick?" Remus asked.

"Already bathed, fed and asleep," Florence answered, quickly washing her son.

"I want to play!" James reached for the toys.

"No," said Florence, reminding him: "You ran. You know the rules: if you run, you don't get to play."

The little boy crossed his arms, looking displeased.

"Where have I seen such a stubborn dark-haired person before?" Remus whispered, reminding her of their talk that afternoon.

"I know..." Florence sighed, helping the boy out of the tub.

After she'd dressed and given James dinner, she put him to sleep and closed the boys' bedroom door.

Remus was waiting for her in the corridor.

"Finally!" she whispered.

"James is an opinionated little thing, isn't he?"

"Yes," Florence answered with a smile, going towards her room.

"Nicholas, on the other hand, is a miracle angel, when we take into account who his parents are," joked Remus.

Florence punched his arm jokingly.

"Stop that," she said, "It's my turn to take a shower now."

"I'll order some pizzas, is that ok?" Remus asked.

"Great idea!" and she walked into her bedroom, while Remus went downstairs.

Later

As they were having dinner, Remus reminded her: "Don't you have a reply to send?"

"I know... but," Florence looked at him, speaking in a fearful voice: "what if he doesn't want to apologize?"

Remus held her right hand and spoke: "You know I love you, Florence. And I'm this close" he showed his forefinger and thumb almost touching each other, "of falling in love with you," she was about to say something, but he went on: "How couldn't I? You're the whole package, love. But I know your heart belongs to Severus. I know you won't ever be fully happy if not by his side. I'm not Sirius, I know I can't make you happy, not as you truly deserve," he paused, "If you have to squeeze his balls until he apologizes – you do that! This situation is not fair to any of you. Go to the castle and see what happens."

Florence sighed and took out her wand, sending a Patronus message to Dumbledore: "We'll be there tomorrow afternoon."

Sunday, November 29th 1981

2:30 a.m.

Hogwarts's Dungeons

Severus was finally close to finishing grading the papers, and there were just two cauldrons bubbling for the Order of the Phoenix on the worktable.

Also, he had plans to rest!

His plans consisted on him staying up till he finished all he still had to do and then sleep in the afternoon – no matter how annoyed sleeping during the day usually left him.

And talking about irritating things, there was someone knocking on his door at that hour.

He got up and opened it, already knowing who he'd find on the other side.

"Dumbledore," he said in a bored voice, going back to his desk.

"Hi, Severus. I only want to let you know that you'll have your new assistant on Monday morning."

"Excellent. My life has meaning now," he replied, sarcastically, not taking his eyes from his papers.

"Yes, it's really great that Florence has agreed to come here and help you for some time."

Severus stopped writing and glared at Dumbledore.

"Any problems, Severus?" the headmaster asked.

"You..."

"Na-ah, don't say anything you might regret later,"interrupted Dumbledore, trying not to smile.

"Absolutely nothing I have to say to you will cause me any regrets later! How could you invite her to be my assistant?"

"And why not? She's intelligent, she can grade papers for you, she can make the potions for you, she can heal you, she can even teach your classes for you if needed; but most importantly: she can handle you. Not to mention she's a delight to talk to during meals. I love having her around! Plus you two were always great together. I see nothing wrong with it. You always make great things together," Dumbledore repeated that as if meaning more than just potions, "Well, I just wanted to let you know that you can leave those essays for Florence to grade and focus on finishing the potions and resting."

Severus wanted to shout at the headmaster, it was insane to bring Florence there to help him after all that had happened just weeks ago!

And he said she accepted going there knowing it was to help him?

She probably wants to come torture me.

"Albus," he tried, "You must see how wrong this is-"

"No, Severus, not really. I don't see any wrongness at all."

Severus clenched his fists, but there was no use arguing with Dumbledore.

"Where will she stay?" he asked instead of continuing trying to make sense of that situation.

"I'll be giving her the big living quarters on the third floor. Because of the twins, she'll need the space."

"The twins?" he asked with interest, it had been a while since he last saw them, "She'll bring her kids here?"

"Yes. They are only three years old, they need their mother. As I was saying, Florence will stay on the third floor, in the living quarters that should belong to the Head of the Slytherin House, but they're too comfortable for you, I believe."

Severus just nodded and went to his worktable.

"If that's all, Headmaster, I have some potions to finish."

And Dumbledore left the dungeons, a smile on his face.

4 a.m.

Severus had bottled his potions and gone to the bathroom to get cleaned.

He walked out of the shower after long minutes, dried his body and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

He didn't resemble the thin, emaciated kid he had once been; he had worked hard to put on muscles and look intimidating.

He touched down his hard abs, and his treacherous mind brought forth the memory of Florence's hands doing that, her palms resting on his abdomen while she rode him, wearing nothing but the imperial jade on her sexy body as she moved on him with passion; he knew exactly when he had last seen her like that: the night she had come to his rescue and he had finally put a baby in her – a baby his bad life choices had killed.

He regretted the words he had said to her that night in the hospital wing; she had been crying for their friends, for their baby, and he, in his fear, accused her of sleeping with Remus. He shook his head, feeling the familiar pain of knowing he had irreparably broken his chances of having a life with her.

He walked naked to his bed, the fireplace in the bedroom thankfully keeping the room warm enough for him to be able to sleep with no clothes on – a necessity of late since feeling the pyjamas against his skin had started to irritate him – making him wonder if he weren't coming down with something.

Severus lay down on his bed and reached under the pillow, picking up the white silk blouse and the jade necklace he kept there.

He brought the blouse to his face and inhaled, it still held a hint of her smell, then he looked at the heart shaped gemstone, remembering her eyes, her beautiful emerald eyes filled with love for him, and her sexy light-green veela eyes, looking at him with desire.

Severus closed his eyes and his body and mind quickly gave in to the exhaustion and he fell asleep within minutes; only to dream about her, about their nights discussing spells and potions; and the other nights when she'd put her sweet mouth on his body, sucking on his cock as if it was made of candy; and how she arched under him as he made love to her, putting on a show for him so sexy it should be illegal. Then she'd lay her head on his chest and they'd talk and laugh until they both fell asleep in each other's arms.

Severus woke up after a couple of hours, drenched in sweat and with his cock as hard as rock.

"Fucking hell," he growled, looking at the ceiling and sighing, his left hand closing around the imperial jade as his right one wrapped around his dick to try and give himself some relief.

He focused on the smell of her blouse and used all of his power of imagination to ignore the irritating feel of his hand around his flesh as he jerked his cock, remembering her hands massaging his balls, her lips stretched by his girth, and her throat swallowing around him.

"Fuck," he growled; the more he touched himself, the bigger his frustration grew. He closed his eyes, focusing harder or her, using a lubricating spell to try to lessen the irritation, which helped a little, so he moved his hand faster, needing some relief so that he could go back to sleep.

"Aarghh! Damn it!" he growled, stopping his movements and panting; he had to do something, he wasn't going to be able to sleep like that.

Severus looked at her blouse and touched it against his chest, noticing it didn't irritate his skin as his own clothes did, so he laid it on his lower belly and touched himself again, it seemed to help, so he closed his eyes again and thought about her vanilla scent filling his senses as her curvaceous body burned for him, then he felt the familiar pressure in his balls and he was cumming over his stomach.

But it wasn't enough – he was still hard.

"Bloody hell," he groaned in frustration, quickly cleaning up the mess he'd made and lying down on his back, knowing there was just one way he'd be able to feel fully satisfied – but that wasn't an option anymore, for he had hurt her, Florence would never forgive him.

She'll be here in twelve hours... I don't know if I can face her. Not after the baby... not after what I said to her. And she'll bring her children here – Black's children. If I haven't forgiven myself for killing our unborn child, how can she ever forgive me?

But before the tears started to roll down his face, exhaustion had him falling asleep.

Only to dream about her; this time about a birthday of his, around four years ago, when he got home and she was there, asleep on his bed.