VII.
He woke the next morning, spooned up behind his wife. The memories of the previous night played out through his mind. There was no regret, only thankfulness for the impossibly wonderful woman lying next to him.
Reflexively, he looked at the small wind up clock on the night stand and noted the time before he wandlessly cast it across the room. He would be able to do the task he had decided on, today. Getting her out of the house or in another room shouldn't be a problem. She'd mentioned wanting to go swimming today after the jar of honey had slowly disappeared over the course of the night. Cleansing charms could only do so much, and the grapeseed oil had been fun to use, even though it hadn't kept things from getting rather sticky in the end.
Letting his hand wander to her breasts, he closed his eyes and let sleep claim him again.
"Severus!" She called out to him from where she was swimming, a little red dot in the mass of turquoise blue. "Come join me!"
The pleasant undertaking was done, and he'd just walked back outside. She hadn't even caught him away. Waving to her, he took off his shirt and waded out into the water to meet her.
"Good gods, woman. Have you no fear?" he half joked when he realized how far out they were.
"Repelling Charms, dear," she said. "We won't have an unwanted sea visitor as long as we are here, until I cast a Finite."
Amazed with her, as always, he shook his head. "You are a brilliant woman," he said.
"I know," she said cheekily. "I found a sand bar out here." She waded a few feet in front of him, and suddenly it looked like she was merely gliding over the top of the water.
He joined her on it. They were surrounded by the blue of the sea, just the two of them with no distraction. He took her hand and stared into the expanse of blue around them.
"You didn't have any bad dreams last night," she said.
"No," he replied, squeezing her hand. He'd not been able to hide away the dreams over the years, but she'd always known he had more than enough reason to have them and accepted them as part of their reality. "They may never stop, but as you know the dreams are generally better when I'm not under an extreme amount of stress."
She tugged on his hand, pulling him down to look at her. "Is it gone?"
"No," he admitted. "I'm guessing over the next eighteen odd years it'll never be gone. But it's manageable now, I think. At least it is today."
"Have you ever thought of going to St. Mungo's again, just to talk to the Healers?" she asked. "Get a little tune up?"
He nodded. "It wouldn't be the worst idea in the world. What about you?"
She shifted her weight and sighed. "I talk to Poppy, just like I did after the Dark Lord possessed me. She was a MediWitch at St. Mungo's before she came to the school, and she's very good I think. I wish I'd talked to her more, my 6th year." She paused and looked up to him. "Then again, if I'd made different choices along the way, we may not have this sea together, would we?"
"Perhaps it would have been a different sea," he said, pulling her closer to him.
"I think I like this one, Severus," she said, leaning her head on his wet chest. "Actually, I love this one. Everything here was worth the wait."
"My beloved girl," he whispered.
A very disgruntled looking owl appeared after lunch two days later, after she'd gone to their bedroom for a nap.
"You were hired to be a long distance express owl, what did you expect?" he asked the irritable thing. He gave it a leftover piece of bacon from their breakfast and slipped a galleon into the little pouch on its leg. This seemed to appease the poor, exhausted creature.
"There is a bank of palm trees to the left of the house, if you need to rest. Do not let the lady see you, and I'll send you employer another one of these," he said, slipping a second galleon into the pouch, "as well as enough of this," displaying another piece of bacon, "to last you until you retire."
The owl nipped his finger in the haste of getting the bacon from his hand and flew away quickly. Severus watched it settle in the palm trees. With its head tucked under its wing, it could have been another coconut.
He grabbed the package, opening it to make sure his instructions had been followed as ordered. Satisfied with what laid snugly inside the small box, he smiled to himself, knowing this was a little secret that was worth having, if just for a little while.
He walked into the bedroom to join his wife on the bed. Even if he didn't sleep, and he knew he wouldn't, he could watch her. Their girl was very active when Ginny rested, and the sight never ceased to amuse him.
His hand went straight to her pregnant belly, and this time it did not tremble or shake.
He was calm.
They were back out on the veranda, after dinner. She wanted to sleep under the stars tonight, so the chair had been transfigured yet again into a bed, very similar to the one in their bedroom.
The sound of her tender sigh drifted over to him. He watched her play with the rings on the ring finger of her left hand – the thin gold and platinum band he'd given her on their wedding day and the Prince ring. The ring was more familiar to him than the nose on his face now. It was platinum, as good, goblin made silver had not been good enough for his wealthy, Pure-blood ancestors. The elements of the family crest were engraved into the metal: a small crown (obviously), a serpent, and a sword. Engraved on the inside of the band was the family motto, "Fideliter Pura", as well as the initials of every woman who had ever been given the ring in marriage. It was adorned with three large emeralds.
Ginny loved the ring and wore it without question, though she often joked about the number of Weasley's who must have rolled in their graves when she'd accepted an engagement ring with Slytherin colors.
"Would you really do it all over again?"
Impossibly blue eyes met his. "In a heartbeat, Severus."
He pulled the little box from his pocket. "I've been thinking the last few days, about us. How everything has been renewed out here. I thought maybe that should be celebrated." He took her left hand, removing the Prince ring and moving it to her right hand. "You will wear this ring on your right hand from now on, never again on your left."
From the little box, he removed the ring he had designed and ordered via a long distance Floo call. The jeweler was a previous student from before Potter's arrival at Hogwarts, who was well known for her excellent, fast work. Of course, her use of some slightly illegal charms didn't hurt the process, but Severus had been determined to have given this gift to her before the end of their holiday.
He'd made a new ring for their new family, and for her specifically. Three dark blue aquamarines, almost the color of the sea around them and close to the color of her eyes, sat side by side in a gold and platinum band, which had been designed to look like the ripples of waves. On the inside of the band, this time in plain English rather than the Runes he'd used before, was written, "I am bound to my beloved." The only initials here were their own, along with the date they first arrived on the island.
He slipped it on her hand, feeling it adjust to her finger size.
"Oh wow," she said, staring down at her hand.
"Do you – "
She stopped his words with a kiss so passionate she nearly took his breath away.
He slept again under the stars, his arms wrapped around his wife. But when he woke, his arms were empty. She was there, close by – he knew that from the waves of desire that reached him from where ever she was. Opening his eyes, he saw Ginny standing in front of the bed. She was completely nude. Backlit by the sun, her hair glowed as though it were fire itself, crowning her head with light as it fell to her waist.
He stood and walked to her side.
She grabbed his cuffed wrist, bringing it up to her breast and squeezing her hand over his own.
"Do you remember the first time you did that?"
He nodded, staring up into her face, trying to focus only on her eyes.
"I was covered in your … cum," she said, the graphic words sounding a little foreign being said with her sweet voice. "And I loved every minute of it." She smiled softly. "I still do," she whispered, moving his hand over her swollen middle down to her groin.
When his fingers touched the wet, soft skin there, he inhaled sharply. She moved his hand over her folds carefully, and she moaned a little when he tried to reach for her center.
"Do you remember the first time you touched me there?" she asked.
He nodded, still staring into her calm, blue eyes. He tried to break his hand free from her grip so that he could touch her properly and make her come, but she merely shook her head and continued guiding her hand over his lightly, at her own pace.
"You gave me so much pleasure that day I wept from it. As did you," she said, bringing his hand up to his mouth. He tasted her on his fingers, moaning at the sweet, familiar flavor. He flexed his hips in response, already wanting to bury himself inside her.
She moved his hand to her arse.
"Do you remember that?" she asked, breathless.
He nodded and tried to catch his breath. Squeezing and kneading the soft skin, he lost himself for a minute and spanked her lightly. Her eyes lit up so brightly at the action that he did it again, feeling his own eyes spark to life.
He remembered that first time, with her bent over the desk before her ruined potion, reading from his old copy of Magical Drafts and Potions. The impulse to spank her had come out of nowhere; he'd initially just wanted to humiliate her for her mistakes. Instead of humiliating her and appeasing his frustration with her, they'd both found a different kind of release that day.
For her, it was and continued to be a way to transcend her mind and reach a place of pleasure and peace that nothing else would bring her to.
For him, it started as arousal from her acceptance of his domination of her – a continuation of the dance they began when he dressed her in his clothes at the beginning of that term. He hadn't expected to enjoy it, to crave it. To need it.
He needed it now.
And so did she.
He'd done enough research, asked enough general questions to know that if they were careful, they would be safe. He'd just been afraid before, and now he no longer was.
"Turn around and put your hands of the rail, Mrs. Snape," he said in the silky, soft voice he saved for these occasions.
Her body shook with the desire he felt rippling to him as she turned as did as she was instructed.
The warm, gentle breeze of the ocean air rippled across his naked body, and he was unashamed. He may not be an attractive man to the people he once thought mattered, but he was to the only woman who mattered to him. That knowledge gave him confidence he didn't realize he'd been lacking.
"Spread your legs wider," he commanded, sighing as he saw Ginny immediately respond.
He kissed the back of her neck, trailing his tongue over the soft curve of her shoulder and back up to her ear before he whispered, "Are you ready?"
"Yes, Sir," she said, her voice quavering in anticipation.
He put a hand on her shoulder to steady her.
"If anything feels wrong, you immediate tell me to stop. I won't depend on our connection to tell me. One word. What will be?"
"Moon, Sir."
"Ten times. Enjoy each and every one," he said, no longer sure who he was speaking to.
"Please," she said, her voice cracking a little.
He spanked her once, more gently than normal, but enough that he could see the outline of his hand on her skin. The low, dark sound of his sigh met the higher, trilling sound of her own.
"Okay?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir," she said, spreading her legs wider and arching her back in invitation.
He continued, counting to four in his head before he stopped again. He was panting now, as though he had just run from his classroom on the third floor down to the greenhouses behind the castle.
"Still okay?" he asked.
"Please don't stop, Sir," she said, her voice a little too demanding for his taste. He rubbed the pink skin with his hand, teasing her mercilessly.
He leaned low to her ear again and whispered, "All good things to those who wait, Mrs. Snape."
She groaned low in her throat, the sound primal and necessary.
Five more spanks came to her, and it was over. He pulled her into his arms, then moved them to the bed with her sitting in his lap. He praised her, just as he always did when she was so good like she was today, and reminding her of all the reasons he was so in love with her. Kissing her lightly, he summoned what was left of the grapeseed oil and massaged it into the pink skin, enjoying the heat and color he'd produced.
"Are you okay?" he asked in the voice he knew made her weak in the knees.
"Better than ever," she said, sighing as his fingers stroked her skin which had moved to massage her abdomen.
"Is she okay?" he asked.
"Slept through the whole thing, but she's waking up now," she replied, moving his hand over to a spot just above her navel. He felt the corresponding kick and relaxed even more deeply than he already was.
"Renee," he said softly before looking up at Ginny.
She nodded.
"But not Ginevra, I won't curse another child with my name," she said very seriously. "Eileen. Renee Eileen Cara Snape."
And there was that ridiculous burning again, along with the tears he was becoming accustomed to. "Why Cara?" he asked, willing his voice not to break.
"It means beloved," she said. "She'll be our beloved, reborn light."
He nodded.
It was perfect.
A/N: I've got a list of resources as long as my arm and the opinions of several KAPs (kink aware professionals) supporting that the above is genuinely okay, if Ginny had a completely normal, uneventful pregnancy. Let's assume she did. But good gods, don't do anything just because theimpossiblegrrl wrote that it was. Check with your own medical professional.
One more left to go.