Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to become provoked to tears, they are weak. They stand no chance in the real world, the world outside of their own egotistical bubble. They lack self-control and mental discipline.

Severus hates seeing people cry. Not in the sense that it makes him sad, no, it makes him angry; borderline furious. He wanted to shake them, tell them to get it together and toughen up! There had only ever been three people whom he could even stomach being around when they cried; his mother, when she allowed it, Lily, when she was pushed to it, and his wife, when she succumb to it.

Seeing her drink her life away terrified him, he knew what happened to people who stooped to that level of debauchery. He saw it firsthand throughout his childhood, watched how it destroyed his mother's life. It had always been his greatest fear that he would become his father, now, he was watching his wife become him. Albus told him to let her work it out, that she was intelligent enough to know when to stop. Week after week he watched as the once quick-witted and clever young woman became nothing more than a common tosspot.

The final straw came in December, when he went to the greenhouse that he had reserved specifically for her to see what progress she had made on her gardening and found everything in the same spot he had left it when he stocked it for her in secret all throughout the summer. The seedlings he had placed on the long wooden table were long dead and bone dry. The packets of seeds he had carefully selected for her were left unopened. In mid-June, on one of their evening walks, she had spotted a common Muggle house plant in the window of a shop and stopped to admire it. She hadn't asked him to purchase it for her, but the way her face lit up when she saw its strange hole filled leaves filled him with so much joy that he went out first thing the next morning and bought it for her. She had smiled up at him brightly when he presented it to her and doted after it all summer. He had made her leave it behind when they packed their belongings to return to Hogwarts under the guise that it wouldn't receive enough sunlight in the dungeon to survive, and magic just couldn't be enough for a Muggle plant. The way her face fell made his heart ache. He did not want to ruin the surprise, though. He wanted her to walk into this greenhouse and it be the first thing she saw on the table when she opened the door. That plant was now nothing more than a crunchy brown mass in a white ceramic pot. He gave her the key to the greenhouse upon their return to Hogwarts, and she hadn't entered it once.

Severus marched down to the dungeon to give her a piece of his mind, only to find her pacing the room talking to herself, bottle clutched in her hand. She stopped, threw the curtains open, stared at the giant squid stuck to the window, laughed loudly, and fell back on the bed. She didn't even hear him enter the room. She was snoring before he crossed the room, so he righted her in bed, leaving her fully clothed, and sat the bottle she had dropped upright on the floor, so his room didn't reek of Firewhisky for the rest of eternity. Severus didn't sleep that night, he stayed up pacing and fuming until he could finally sit at his desk in the room to grade that days pop quizzes to hand back once his students returned from holiday.

—

Severus remembered the day he saw the young girl in Cokeworth that looked so much like Lily he had to go straight home and dunk his head in cold water to prove to himself that he was not losing his mind. He did not know that it was her, not even when he saw her, years later, under the Sorting Hat. He hadn't thought about that day in years. If she hadn't jerked from her sleep and reminded him of it, he probably never would have thought of it again.

It was early July; Severus was twenty-four years old and back at Spinner's End where he did not want to be. He had spent the day cleaning the decrepit home, he was stuffed up from all of the dust and desperate for air, real air. So, he crossed the filthy river and found himself outside of what had once been the Evans' home. His feet had instinctively led him there as he walked with his head down, watching pebbles dance off the toes of his black leather shoes. When he looked up, the first thing he saw was the skinny, sick looking alder tree in the right corner of the front garden had finally been chopped down. Lily would often come running out of the front door barefooted, her mother calling from the opened door to put her shoes on, and step on holly leaves that had fallen from the bushes lining the front of the house. Petunia would laugh as he would kneel before her and help pull the thorn lined leaves from her feet. Those holly bushes were now larger than he had ever seen them. Mr. Evans made it a point to keep them well pruned and small, so he could watch the neighborhood out of the front window in the evenings when he returned from work. Someone had finally painted the exterior of the house a white color, instead of the dusted yellow that Lily hated so much. He smiled slightly at this, wondering if white would have been a better color in her opinion.

A cars pulls up to the house just as he was imagining whether or not the carpet that Mrs. Evans painstakingly cleaned was still as vibrant green as he last saw it. A blonde haired woman, precisely the same height and shape as Mrs. Evans had been unloads a small brown haired boy and several bags of shopping before disappearing inside. With a sigh, Severus peels his feet from the sidewalk and makes his way back to the other side of the river where he belonged. Halfway home, a streak of red ahead catches his eye. He realizes he is directly in front of the park where he had first met Lily, where they had spent so much time together. A bright red ball bounces off of the toe of his shoe, he catches it midair, only to look down into the small pink face of a girl that looked so much like Lily he almost passes out from shock.

—

When she was still his student, Severus would occasionally catch a glimpse of the girl standing out in the snow, her head angled up to the sky, catching snowflakes on the tip of her tongue. He had never managed to get that image out of his head. She was so tranquil, so innocent during those times. There was only six students left at the school for winter break, but he couldn't risk them seeing her there with him. So, he wakes her before dawn on Christmas morning, helps her dress warmly, and drags her through the dungeon, despite her drowsy protests for more sleep, and watches as her eyes light up when she steps through the courtyard into the snow. Thick white globs of snow cling to her hair and eyelashes, a wide grin is plastered to her face. Suddenly, her pink tongue pokes out from between her lips to catch a flake on her tongue. She grabs his hand and drags him from beneath the safety of the courtyard awning and smiles up at him before wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her head on his chest. It was only the second time she had willingly touched him since September; the first time she had touched him without crying.

Later that evening they sit before a roaring fire in their room. Severus grips his arm; a dull ache makes its presence known. The Dark Lord was calling to them, he chooses to ignore it. He will come up with an excuse; perhaps Albus required his assistance, maybe his wife was ill again. The Dark Lord was usually lenient with Severus during the school year, not expecting him to be available at the drop of a hat. He will gladly take whatever punishment He had in store for him for skipping, if it meant he could have one good evening with his wife. This could potentially be his final Christmas; he had never been one for celebrations or tradition, but this is one he wanted to remember in whatever afterlife there may be.

Severus stands and retrieves two brightly wrapped boxes he had stashed in his trunk in the back of the bedroom. Inside of one wrapped box was a silver chain with a clasping mechanism and a decorative glass vial, meant to hold potions. In the other was an old, leather bound copy of her favorite book, Agnes Grey, a copy of Gimms' Fairy Tales, which she had expressed interest in reading, and a copy of Little Women, which the Muggle shop attendant recommended while he was paying for the other two books. Severus places the packages on her lap without a word, and steps back to watch her open them, a tight smile on his lips. She smiles up at him brightly, her blue eyes shimmering in the firelight.

"I wasn't able to get you anything." She whispers, her cheeks tuning slightly pink.

"I did not expect you to get me anything." Severus answers honestly. Albus and Lily were the only ones who had ever gotten him a gift, and the majority of Albus' had been jokes at his own expense.

"But it's Christmas. I feel bad. I wish I could have gotten you something…but I don't have any money." Severus watches as she brushes the leather books with the pad of her thumb. The thought of giving her money hadn't crossed his mind, he had always been on top of anything she might be running out of and replaced the items for her.

"If you could ask for anything in the world, what would it be?" She asks him suddenly, catching him off guard. He hesitates for a moment, not knowing how to answer.

"There is nothing that I need." Severus whispers before turning to stoke the fire.

"Come on. There has to be something." She pries, Severus sighs and turns from the fire to take his seat next to her once more.

"Freedom." Severus finally whispers back to her.

She stands suddenly, placing the gifts in her lap on the lounge as she stands and grabs his hand to pull him up from his seat. Severus obliges her and looks down into her big blue eyes.

"Remember the Yule Ball?" She asks suddenly as she looks up in to his eyes, a slight smile on her face. He raises a brow at her, silently asking what she meant. "I thought you looked so handsome. I wanted to ask you to dance while we were standing in the courtyard, before you brought me to your office."

Severus doesn't reply, just stares down into his wife's eyes. He would gladly die a thousand deaths for her, if it meant she was safe and happy. But he couldn't, because if he were gone, who would protect her? Who would hold her when she woke up with a nightmare? Who would tell her that she was not a partial Squib and prove to her that she could do anything that she set her mind to? Who would comb her hair after a bath? Who would be the perfect height compared to her, so that she could rest her head against their chest and listen to their heartbeat? Who would make her coffee with two sugars, double cream, and a touch of vanilla? Who would buy her books, and look forward to her retelling of them after she finished them? Who would watch her grin as she held a freshly brewed potion up to the light after she had bottled it? It had to be him. He needed it to be him. Amycus Carrow may have liked what he saw when he spotted her in The Three Broomsticks last summer and believed that she was his for the taking, to do with as he pleased, any number of men may have the same thoughts as she passes them by, but she wore his grandmothers ring, she carried his name. Severus saw her first, molded her to become the talented potions mistress that she now was. He watched her become strong and powerful, he read, and saw firsthand everything that she had overcome. He knew her body inside and out, held her as she sobbed. She trusted him with her entire being.

She is his.

"Will you dance with me?" She asks, pulling him from his thoughts. "I didn't get a Yule Ball dance. You owe me."

"That was your own fault. I seem to recall finding you in an empty courtyard, with the excuse of needing air." Severus smirks down at her, remembering how striking she looked in that blue dress against the snow.

"Please?" With her big blue eyes staring up at him so convincingly, how could he say no?

"There is no music." Severus answers shyly as he brings her hand up to his shoulder and snakes his own around her waist before pulling her body in closer to his.

"Don't you have an imagination?" She asks as he spins her around the room with the tune of Can't Help Falling in Love ringing in his head.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

—

Feel your memory, think your message.

Severus watches as a silvery doe materializes from the tip of his wand, struts around his office, and leaps through the opened door, off to deliver his message to his wife, who was waiting in the main hall of the dungeon. If Draco wouldn't accept his assistance, she would. She had gotten rather good at producing the small, fluttering bat Patronus since he had taught her during the summer, but after a week of trying to teach her to have it deliver messages, he was growing rather impatient. All she had managed to tell him in the form of the bat was either his own name, or I love you repeated over and over again before the winged nuisance finally dissipates before him. He watches as her Patronus flutters into the room once more, swoops around his head, then stops momentarily to project her message into his head before dissolving into nothing.

My….I lo—head….yo—hurts.

Again. Release your mind. Think only of your message.

Severus sighs deeply and leans against his desk as he watches as his own Patronus leaps from the doorway once more. He felt sorry for the poor thing, her legs were bound to be tired form running up and down the corridors only to deliver the same message. It had only been a week and four days since he had forced her to quit drinking cold turkey. The first two days were spent monitoring her breathing and administering potions as she shook in bed. She was still suffering through the consequences of her own actions, but there was work that needed to be done, things he needed to teach, and time was running out. He chuckles slightly to himself as her bat enters the room, he had never seen a Patronus look tired before, but hers was downright exhausted.

My head hurts.

Was all it said before the silver stream of light was gone completely. He relaxes slightly and pinches the bridge of his nose, a headache of his own beginning to form.

Finally. Come up, we are not finished.

Severus pushes her deteriorated copy of The Hobbit out of the way, wondering why exactly he had kept it after all this time, to retrieve two vials of Headache Tonic he always kept in the top drawer of his desk. He downs his, swallowing hard just as she enters the room. With only four days remaining until students returned to the castle from winter holiday, he needed to teach her as much as possible. There was at least a dozen things she should have mastered by now, and he kicks himself internally once more for allowing her to waste so much precious time drinking her days away. She had been good for something, though; he had her brewing Blood-Replenishing Potions and Calming Droughts each night for weeks. They sat in baskets in Albus' office, waiting for when they would be needed. He passes her the vial of Headache Tonic as she takes a seat opposite him, and watches as she gulps it greedily. She has dark circles beneath her eyes as he watches her clutch her head in her hands before shivering involuntarily as the tonic releases the ache in her head. She lifts her eyes to him, waiting for his direction.

"Stand over there." Severus instructs, pointing towards the opposite side of the room. "I will attempt to disarm you; you will attempt to block it. Understood?"

She nods her head slightly, heaving herself with a sigh from the chair she had sat in when she entered the room. He watches as she pulls her wand from the waist band of her skirt and readies herself across from him.

"And do not keep your wand there. It is dangerous and predictable."

"Where else am I supposed to put it?" She asks, gesturing to her attire with her wand.

She wears a blue woolen sweater, a grey skirt, tall stockings, and no shoes. She looks more like a student than an adult, he shakes his head slightly to get that image as far away as possible. Severus steps towards her and pulls his sleeve away from his wrist slightly to reveal a thin tunnel of fabric sewn into the underside where he slides his own wand.

"Ah. Well, I don't have that." She counters, pulling her own sleeve back with a smirk.

"Ready yourself." Severus demands, taking a step back and pulling his wand from his sleeve.

"Ex…pelliarmus!" Severus shouts, a scarlet flash shoots out of the tip of his wand and barrels towards her.

"Protego!" She counters, but not quickly enough.

Her shield had only just begun to sprout from the tip of her wand when his own hits her square in the chest. She lets out a groan, as her wand flies from her hand and she lands loudly on her bottom on the stone floor. She stands, rubbing her bottom, and nods for him to go again.

Ten, fifteen, twenty times he knocks her flat on her ass. Each time she groans on impact as he sighs at her lack of progress. It wasn't that she wasn't fast enough, he was just stronger. He was able to break through her shield each and every time as though it wasn't even there.

"You have the upper hand. You know what I am going to do. Focus." Severus seers through his teeth as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I'm tired." She protests, still sitting on the floor. She hadn't bothered lifting herself after the last time he had knocked her down.

"You do not have time to be tired." Severus stares down at her as she falls back on the floor, her arms stretched, her palms up, the wand he hand once again knocked from her hand just out of reach of her fingertips.

"Block me once and we can stop. You are fast enough; you just need to mean to." He watches as she begrudgingly heaves herself from the floor, grips her wand tightly, and readies herself.

Nine more times Severus knocks her back, each time she grows more and more frustrated. Finally, on the tenth time, Severus hits her with everything he's got. He is not taking it easy on her, he wants her to get a feel of it, he wants her angry enough to block him. "PROTEGO!" She finally bellows with a shaking fist and reddened face. Her shield gleams in the candlelight, her eyes bulge from anger and frustration. He has her exactly where he wants her. His spell bounces off of hers so abruptly he's knocked slightly off balance and must put his right foot behind his left to keep himself upright.

"About time." Severus smirks at her as she pants in delight.

"That felt good." She pants as she grins up at him.

—

Severus lies in his bed, his wife wrapped in his arms as she kisses and nips at the tender flesh of his neck. Classes will resume tomorrow, but for this morning, all he cares about is being inside of her. Waking to her hands in his hair and her lips on his neck was precisely the wake up call he needed. It had been months, far too long. Suddenly she releases her lips from his flesh, straddles his lap, and pulls the silken nightgown over her head. Her body in the candlelight was the most majestic thing he had ever witnessed. Her porcelain skin smooth and supple, her nipples pink and erect, a patch of red hair between her legs that he had finally convinced her during the summer not to shave. He could feel the warmth of her core pressed against his erection through the thin cotton of his night shirt. She takes his hands in hers and guides them to her body, smoothing them up her slim waist, past her jutting ribs, and finally to cup her small breasts. A moan escapes her lips as he slides his fingers across her nipples, pinching them ever so slightly between each passing finger. She grinds herself against his throbbing erection through his shirt, making a moan escape his own lips. Severus throws his head back and closes his eyes as he grips her breasts tightly in both hands. He arches his back as she pushes his nightshirt up his body and sighs slightly as she removes his hands from her breasts to pull the sleeves over his wrists.

She takes his hands and pins them above his head. He could easily break free but liked the feel of her hands wrapped around his wrists. Her lips are suddenly back on his neck, her tongue swirling around his Adams apple before moving to his ear to nibble on his lobe. He moans once more and clenches his fists; she knew how to drive him mad. Her lips leave his skin once more, leaving him wanting. Suddenly, her hands are pushing his hair from his face, then move to cup his cheeks.

"Look at me." She whispers, Severus obeys and stares up into her big blue eyes.

He swims in the sea that is her eyes as she slides herself down on him. Both of their eyes roll back in their heads as she slowly moves herself up and down on him as she cups his face and kisses his lips gently. She gains speed as her hands move down to his chest and press slightly as she rides him with such vigor that the bed bangs against the wall. Severus moves his hands from above his head and grips her hips so tightly his fingertips feel as if they may snap. She will have bruises there tomorrow, a reminder of what she does to him.

Severus watches as she trails her fingertips down his stomach, she hovers it there momentarily above the mound of red hair. For a moment, he thinks she may rub herself as he watches. The mere thought of watching her do that on top of them makes him shiver with anticipation. She doesn't, though. She removes his right hand from her waist and presses it against her as she grips his fingers tightly, never once slowing her pace.

She comes undone around him; her head thrown back in ecstasy. The candlelight illuminates her face as she opens her mouth to moan loudly, the most fantastic sound he had ever heard. She grips his hand, and his erection tightly as she stills herself on top of him. He groans and arches himself into her, desperate for more. He was so close, so very, very close. He grips her hips and thrusts into her from below until her legs can regain feeling and move on their own free will once more. Suddenly she is moving and matching his thrusts with just as much passion as he was giving to her. Finally, he finishes deep inside of her with a low groan. She throws herself down on his chest as they both pant and tremble, him still buried inside of her.

Severus gently pulls himself from her and pushes her over off of his chest. His body is hot and exhausted, despite her being the one to most of the work. He makes his way across the room to his sock drawer and retrieves a vial of Contraceptive Potion that he kept brewed at all times now. He returns to the bed and lies back on his pillow, she presses herself to his side and wraps her arm around his chest, despite the sweltering heat in the room.

"Take this, then go have a bath." Severus says, stifling a yawn. He watches as she uncorks the vial and downs it in one gulp before lying her head on his chest.

"Can I ask you something?" She mutters, her breath tickling the skin around his nipples. He grunts in reply, awaiting her question.

"Do you not want children at all, or just not with me?" She asks, tilting her head back to look up in his face.

"Why must you make things so difficult?" Severus sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I was only curios." She says as she presses her head back down against his chest.

"I do not want them at all." Severus finally answers as she traces her thumb across his ribs, goosebumps prickle with each pass of her smooth skin across his.

"Why not? You're so good with kids." He could feel her lips turned up into a smirk against his chest.

"Precisely why I do not want children. Nearly two decades of dealing with others inability to properly train their offspring."

"Will you keep teaching when this is all over?"

"I do not know. Perhaps." Severus admits.

The truth was, he did not need to work at all after the war. He had enough gold in his vault at Gringott's to last the rest of his life. He had grown up so poor that he was the laughingstock of even Spinner's End, and that was saying something, because they were all poor. Between his Hogwarts salary, what he had gotten from The Dark Lord during the first war, and the pouches of gold Lucious slipped him each summer for eleven years tutoring Draco to prepare him for school, he could retire today and live comfortably. Severus had been frugal, never spending more than he absolutely needed to survive. Lately, however, he had been splurging and spending more than he had ever spent, just to keep his wife comfortable. If this was his final years, he was going to spend it making sure she was cared for. When he is gone, she will own all of it, and can do with it what she saw fit.

"What would you do, if you could do anything in the world?" She whispers against his skin.

"It is of no use dwelling on dreams. I am a professor, and that is enough." Severus replies.

"When is your birthday?" She asks, grating his nerves with her constant questions.

"January ninth. Why?"

"Because I didn't know. What's your middle name?"

"Why must you talk so much?"

"Because I don't know, and I want to. Mine is Iris, by the way." She counters. He knew her middle name, it was the name Lily had wanted to give her daughter. Lily's grandmother; his wife's great-grandmothers name.

"Tobias." Severus finally answers with a sigh.

"That's a nice name."

"No, it is not." Severus snaps, a bit harsher than he had intended.

"Why not? It isn't bad, it's better than Iris. I don't even like iris'."

"It was my father's name."

"You don't like your father?" She asks, peering up at him between her long red eyelashes.

"No. I did not." Severus replies, reaching for a cigarette on the bedside table.

"Oh. I'm sorry." She's quiet for a moment, her thumb still rubbing his ribs as he takes a long draw form his cigarette and blows a stream of smoke straight up at the ceiling. "I don't know if I liked Sirius."

"Hmph." Severus replies, focusing on his cigarette.

"Hey." She starts, Severus watches her as she rolls on to her stomach, crosses her hands on his chest to rest her chin, and places her left knee between his legs. She uses her knee to push his right leg up so that it was resting on the back of her thigh. Her stomach sticks to his side with sweat. She couldn't be any closer to him if she tried. Her blue eyes gleam in the candlelight as she peers up at him innocently, as if he weren't inside of her only moments before. "I don't want to be without you when this is all over. We don't have to stay married if you don't want to, but I don't want to never see you again."

"You can do whatever you would like when it's over." Severus replies as he stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray he had on his side of the bed.

"What if what I want is you?" Her voice was small as her eyes gleamed with such conviction he knew that there could be no way she was lying.

"We have discussed this. I am nearly twice your age." Severus closed his eyes to keep from having to see hers. The prophecy Albus showed him did not have to be about them. It could be about anyone. Once she learned that he is the one who will kill Albus Dumbledore, she will change her mind about wanting to stay with him after the war. Then he will finally have some peace and quiet.

"I want you, though." She sighs as she removes one hand from below her chin to trace the grooves of his ribs with her pointer finger. Severus had always been self-conscious about his body and covered it in dark, flowing clothing. He was too tall, too skinny, too pale. He wasn't muscular, but he wasn't fat either. He was skin and bones with a hideous skull brand on his arm. With her hands on his body, he felt comfortable in his own skin for the first time in his life.

"What is it that given one, you can have either two or none?" She asks against his skin, her Ravenclaw brain finally showing itself.

"A choice." Severus replies, his voice husky as he contemplates just pushing her off of him so that she will stop talking and go get in the bath.

"Exactly. You have a choice." She lies there silently for a moment, still tracing his ribs with her finger.

"Do you think Bram is alive?" She yawns, her breath warming his already hot body.

"Why must you talk so much? I am sure the cat is fine. Go. Take. A. Bath."

The trust was, Severus knew that the cat was, in fact, alive. At least, it had been a year ago when the bastard bit him and ran off. He had asked Madam Rosmerta to look after it, and he had always assumed she had. With her under the Imperious Curse for the last six months, it was rather hard to go to her for anything anymore. He felt just as much guilt about that situation as he did for lying to his wife about the wretched beast for a year.

Severus had tried to collect the cat shortly after she was taken. He stood in front of the smoldering remains of her tiny apartment in complete darkness and choked on a sob. The cat came running from the shadows, hissing as if he were the intruder. He bent and scratched its ear, and the thing rubbed its head against his hand when he realized who he was. Severus bent to pick the foul beast up, to bring it with him to Spinner's End, and it bit him hard on the flesh between thumb and forefinger, drawing blood. It took everything in him to keep from kicking the thing across the alley.

Finally, she obliges and looks back at him with a slight smile as she makes her way to the bath. Severus hears the water running, and her slight hiss as she steps into the steaming water. The scent of vanilla from the bath oil she had used seeps out from under the closed door. He stretches his arms above his head with a groan, rubs the sleep from his eyes, and pulls his night shirt over his head before slinging his legs over the edge of the bed, his knees and ankles popping in protest. He readies their mugs for coffee, and steps into the shadows as a house-elf delivers a tray filled with pastries, oatmeal, and fruits.

Severus leaves everything on the small dining table and enters the bathroom to bathe with his wife. Despite her inability to stop asking questions for longer than five minutes, he missed the feel of her bare skin against his own. Afterwards, he will dry her off with a towel and comb her hair as she sips her morning coffee. For now, he will relish the feeling of her body pressed against his chest as he relaxes his joints in the warm bath.