After two doses of angst, here's a nice soft G-rated moment :) Luna/Severus.
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This is the story of your gypsy uncle
You never knew cause he was dead
And how his face was carved an ripped with wrinkles
In the picture in your head
And remember how you found the key
To his hide-out in the Pyrenees,
But you wanted to keep his secret safe,
So you threw the key away?
This is the story of your gypsy uncle…
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Red Right Ankle
By May
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Mother and daughter were sitting on the grass under the evening sky, watching as one by one the stars above stepped out into the summer twilight. Rodmilla Nott was growing known for looking shockingly like her mother, even at three years old. She resembled Luna in miniature, a tiny copy, or extension of the young woman. Of course, Severus knew that time would give his stepdaughter her own identity, as well as physicality. Indeed, if one looked a little closer at Milla, they would note that eventually she would have Theodore's nose and jaw line, as her features matured. But for now she was all her mother's daughter, sitting in Luna's lap, the both of them dressed in white, her mother's long pale hair mixing with Rodmilla's own soft curls that were only a shade or two darker.
From his place seated on the vast veranda of his wife's home, wearing his waistcoat and shirt-sleeves in the warm summer night air, Severus idly observed the two of them, the book in his lap momentarily forgotten. Rodmilla had awoken from nightmares early in the evening, and to calm her, Luna had brought her out on the lawn and proceeded to entertain her child with stories about the sky above.
"That one there is Merlin's Star," Luna's drifty voice wafted over the property, in the still night air, "Your great-uncle Lysander Lovegood once built a Zeppelin, in an attempt to reach the alien wizards who supposedly live on the planets orbiting it," Luna smiled a little at the toddler's wide eyes, "He only got as far as Sweden, I am afraid. But while he was there, he did drop in on your great-grandmother, who suggested he travel the world in his fine piece of magical engineering."
"Did he see Snorkacks?" Rodmilla asked, her vocabulary slightly advanced for a three-year-old, but Severus was hardly surprised. Her parents were both brilliant. But of course, she processed information as any small child would, especially a child raised by Luna Lovegood. The word Sweden was automatically associated with Snorkacks in her mind. Luna grinned.
"That's the rumor!" She whispered conspiratorially. "They granted him good luck on his many travels. He visited Faerie queens and muggle gypsies and followed Froople migration patterns all the way back to this very house…"
"Tell me about the Faerie queens," Rodmilla asked sleepily, leaning back against her mother's chest. Luna reached down to play with her daughter's golden brown hair, spinning it around her fingers.
"The Faerie queens live in every forest, in every field of flowers," Luna spoke softly, her dreamy voice an even cadence. "You can hunt them in the summertime, around full moons and when the seasons change. The queen of all the queens is Lady Mab, who lives in a palace of thorns and roses and lavender." Rodmilla's eyelids were drooping, and Luna kissed the top of her head, "Mab rides through your dreams, revealing what is true and unseen. And when you wake, you will be sure of what is really there, even if others do not see the same…"
Seeing that her child was now asleep, Luna smiled, waiting a few moments more in the twilight and fireflies before rising. Rodmilla rested her head on her mother's shoulder as she carried her toward the house, baby fingers playing with her long hair. Luna smiled at Severus as she passed him, touching one finger to his closed lips before slipping into the house. Severus smirked to himself, his attention returning to his book as she went about tucking her daughter into bed.
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When she returned though, he set the book aside and drew her to sit across his knees, her head resting against his shoulder. "And so it begins," He murmured, "You filling her head with rubbish at an early age." It was said fondly, and Luna smiled, her large eyes drifting shut. "Before you know it she shall be thusly stuck between two worlds, one tangible and one entirely fanciful in nature, running after imaginary creatures."
"Would you expect anything different, from my offspring?" Luna asked him, her voice a gentle hum drifting by his ear. Severus considered that question.
"Actually, yes," He replied, sounding almost surprised at his own thoughts, "I was not sure if such fancy had served you well, in recent years." Luna opened her eyes, tilting her face enough to look at his profile.
"I admit, my father nurtured in me a trifle too much eccentricity," She said, slowly. Severus snorted slightly, thinking that to be an understatement. Luna smacked his other shoulder playfully, "However," She went on, "It was out of loneliness. He missed my mother," Luna sighed, "He molded me into someone like her, so he would not be alone." She smiled again, then, "But I made it my own. How would I have gotten through the darkest moments of the past few years, without my faith in things unseen? That is what I want to culture in my children." She snuggled against him again, "Something they can make their own, someday."
"An understandable explanation," Severus replied after a moment, touching his chin thoughtfully as the darkness deepened around them. "But even so, are there not more sensible things to put one's faith in?" Luna looked up at him, confused by that logic. Severus looked down at her, eyebrows raised, "Snorkacks?" He said the word as if it tasted like something far too sugary to be properly edible. Luna grinned.
"Did you never believe in fables as a child, Severus Snape?" She asked. Severus only blinked.
"No." He said evenly, "I believed in facts and if I did read tales of adventure, they were from history books." Crickets chirped around them, punctuating the statement with whimsy, and Luna's smile did not falter.
"History is written by story-tellers," She yawned, "Your mother never read you bedtime stories?" Severus cleared his throat, trying to think up an escape from that particular topic, but realized that Luna's voice held only simple curiosity, nothing more. They'd had other, deeper conversations on the subject of his mother, of his parents, in the past. She brushed her fingers lightly over the buttons of his waistcoat.
"She did try, once or twice," He admitted, a wry smirk toying with the edges of his lips, "I kept interrupting her with logistical questions. She gave up. I was perhaps five or six years of age." Luna giggled, not at all surprised.
"Well at least I know now that you've always been this way," She replied, "But do such things always have to make sense? Fiction can be quite the effective tool for teaching truth. Allegory, fable…"
"Perhaps," Severus allowed, "But I never quite saw the point. If one meant to say something, can they not be straight-forward enough to say it plainly?"
"Perhaps," Luna nodded, slowly, "But not everyone retains a message in such a way. Some people enjoy finding hidden meanings in things unseen, in stories untrue." Severus only nodded in acknowledgment. Yes that might be so, but he was not among those 'some people'. Or so he though, Luna pondered.
A companionable silence came over them for a time. After a few moments in the darkness, Luna began to hum, and Severus found himself quite captivated by the sound, as always. Luna continued to dance her fingers around his buttons, contemplatively, before she spoke again, "Once upon a time," She sing-songed, and Severus raised an eyebrow. Luna only smiled, "In a far-away castle that was under an unfortunate enchantment, surrounded by lush rose gardens, there lived a most hideous and ferocious beast…" She paused, glancing up at him, a mischievous sparkle in her wide eyes, "Or should I say bat?"
"…Point taken," Severus sighed, and his wife giggled, standing up, taking his hand, and pulling him inside the house.
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~ Fin :D
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Author's Notes: I enjoy hot tea.