Severus lies on his back in bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, the hand of the other clenching the bed sheets tightly. His teeth bite into his lower lip as his wife, who was kneeling between his spread legs, works her hand up and down his throbbing erection as her tongue circles the tip. She had woken him thirty minutes before his alarm went off that morning, nipping his neck and massaging his thigh. At first, he had thought it was a dream, but when a deep moan escaped his lips and jerked him awake, he couldn't say that he was angry.
He removes his arm from over his eyes, flicks his wrist to light a candle, and grips her hair tightly with his now free hand, the other remains tangled in the sheets, clenching and unclenching as she moves her head up and down. She looks up into his eyes, his mouth opens slightly, his nostrils flare. He can't help but to notice how beautiful she looks while her rosy lips are wrapped around him. He has to throw his head back against the pillow to keep from spilling right then and there. His shoulders arch off of the mattress, his hand remains on the back of her head, pressing down ever so slightly.
Words come from his mouth that he wouldn't dare utter under any other circumstance; he finds himself begging, no, pleading, for her not to stop, to keep going. One of her hands rests on his thigh, drawing tight circles with the pad of her thumb, the other grips him firmly around the base. The true magic, and yes, this is pure magic, is her mouth. The softness of it, the warmth and delicacy, it was unlike being inside of her in the usual sense. This is what turns men in to squirming piles of nothing. This is pure ecstasy.
The hand gripping his thigh suddenly comes forward to grip his testicles, he jerks violently at the feeling of it. He had never even touched himself there other than to clean himself. The sensation was almost too much, but he wouldn't dare tell her to stop. She hums each time he hits the back of her throat, the vibration sending pleasure throughout his entire body. He clenches his toes against the sheets, his legs begin to shake as hers do when he rubs his thumb against her clitoris. He is close, so very close, but he does not want this to end.
Severus tries to regulate his breathing, tries to relax his body, tries desperately to keep from having an orgasm so soon, but he cannot. He looks down into her eyes once more, saliva pools against her fist clenched around him, her eyes are glazed over in what looks to be her own desire, her cheeks are pink, and her lips are rosy. God, is she beautiful. As if she can sense his impending climax, she removes him from her mouth, sticks her tongue against the tip of his erection, and uses her fist to pump up and down the length of him. He moans loudly and watches as the thick streams land on her lips, tongue, and deep in her mouth. She swallows, licks her lips, then wraps those lips around his tip once more. Her tongue twirls around him, causing his entire body to spasm. He grips her hair tightly as she releases him with a pop and kisses the tip. Severus releases her hair as she slides her body up his, her fingertips lightly brushing up his body leave a trail of goosebumps. She kisses beneath his earlobe, tickling him slightly and causing him to bring his shoulder up to his head.
"Happy birthday, Severus." She whispers into his ear before turning abruptly and planting a wet kiss on to his still open mouth. She tasted of morning breath and the saltiness of his semen, and he could not care less.
She is a Succubus.
Severus lies there, unable to move, as his alarm blares next to him. She gets up, shuts it off, and disappears into the bathroom. His legs are numb, his heart pounds in his chest as he attempts to form any coherent thought. Who had taught her to do that? No, he mustn't think of that. He did not care. Ah, yes. His birthday. Today he is thirty-seven years old, and if this morning were any indication of how his day would progress, he has to say, it is the best birthday he has ever had. It is also their first anniversary, though she did not know that. He would have liked to take her out to dinner, or perhaps just stay in bed with her all day.
—
The night Draco Malfoy was born was one of the most nerve-wracking nights Severus could remember having. Lucius sent for him midway through the day on Wednesday, fourth of June. Narcissa, apparently having great difficulty bringing the child into the world, asked for him specifically. He was to brew potions for her, to help alleviate the pain she had been enduring for hours at that point. The potions provided by the midwives sent from St. Mungo's were not working, and he obliged. Lucius paced the parlor, brandy glass in hand, Severus sat chain smoking as his cauldron bubbled away.
Finally, shortly after three in the morning on the fifth of June, a midwife stuck her head into the parlor to summon Lucius upstairs. Severus watched as Lucius' face turned a sickly white, the midwife had to assure him that all was well, and that he was a father. Lucius ran from the room, his cloak trailing behind him. Severus stood and resumed Lucius' abandoned pacing.
A short while later, Lucius burst through the parlor door, a wide grin plastered to his face. He was holding a squealing mass loosely wrapped in a white blanket as he made his way over to Severus, who was at this point stopped next to the marble fireplace.
"A son." Lucius announces proudly. "I have a son."
"Congratulations." Severus states as he glances down at the new, and very loud child.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy." Lucius grins. "Narcissa and I would like to ask you to be his godfather. If you will accept the title."
"It would be an honor." Severus mumbles, his heart hammers slightly in his chest as Lucius passes him the squirming, screaming mass. He had never held a baby before.
The weight and warmth of Draco in his arms felt foreign, but his heart relaxed slightly as the infant ceased its protests and gnawed on its clenched fist instead. Draco was bald with an elongated head, chubby faced, and slightly pink. He smelled foreign; an earthy, motherly scent. Severus gazed down at him in awe as Lucius raved about what his son would become, the things that he would do. Severus vowed silently to himself, and to the child, that he would do whatever it took to make sure he lived up to his name and greatness.
Sixteen years Severus molded young Draco's' mind. For sixteen years Draco made him proud; not socially by any means, he was an arrogant and spoiled little ass. Academically, however, Draco lived up to everything Severus had hoped he would. He was proud to be his godfather.
"I hear congratulations are in order." Severus states as he comes up behind his godson standing at the top of the clock tower, the setting sun turning his blond hair a dull orange color. The Dark Lord had arranged Draco's marriage to Flora Carrow during the winter holiday, at the meeting he and his wife had skipped.
"I will not marry her." Draco whips himself around to face Severus and sneers, eyes narrowed in anger.
"He has ordered it, so it shall be." Severus offers, feeling slightly bad for the poor boy and his choice for a mate. "I must offer my help once more, Draco. Please, let me assist you."
"I told you, no!" Draco shouts as he stomps his foot. There is the spoiled little boy he knew so well. "Just go back to your room with your half-blood whore of a wife and leave me alone."
Severus stalks towards Draco and stares down his nose at him, his fists clenched in anger. "If I ever hear you address my wife in that manner again, I will make you wish it were you in Azkaban." Severus turns abruptly before Draco has a chance to lift his jaw from the floor, and stomps down the stairs.
—
Severus makes his way to the dungeon, desperate to get off of his feet. It had been a long, exhausting day. What had started out as a fantastic birthday that morning, has proven to be just as he had imagined; shitty. Potter, Weasley, Granger, and Longbottom were their usual selves. They wouldn't give him a break if he had begged for one. Upon opening his bedroom door, he found it pitch black and eerily silent. His heart sinks for a moment, thinking that his wife was somewhere drinking again. Just then, a single small flame lights up the room, he follows the glow to the far side of the room where the small dining table sits.
"Happy birthday." His wife whispers in the darkness as her hand finds his shoulder. He lets her sit him in his spot at the table as she slides what he now sees is a plate with a rather large slice of cake in front of him. The candle glow he had followed was a single candle placed in the center of the slice of cake. "Make a wish."
Severus blows the candle out in one swift blow, plummeting them into total darkness. With the flick of his wrist, he lights the remaining candles in the room and turns to look into her smiling face.
He had wished for her. For her health, happiness, and most of all, for her continued love and admiration.
"I didn't know what kind of cake you liked. I've never seen you eat any sweets besides cinnamon disks, and I couldn't really put a candle in one of those." She rambles as he looks down at the slice of Victoria sponge cake filled with strawberry jam and thick buttercream, teetering on top was a single fresh strawberry dusted with icing sugar. "Anyway, Dumbledore had this cake in the kitchen, and told me I could bring you a slice. I hope that's okay. It isn't much, but I wanted to do something for you."
Severus swallows a lump in his throat. This was more than anyone had ever done for him, that mornings surprise wakeup call included. His mother had never had enough money to spare to do anything for his birthday, his father chose to ignore it. Lily and Mrs. Evans had made him a chocolate cake for his eleventh birthday, Petunia quickly smashed her fist into it when she learned who it was for. It was the first and only time Severus had ever seen Mrs. Evans spank either of her children. Afterwards, she let Severus and Lily eat spoonful's of frosting on the back stoop as snow fell around them, listening to Petunia whimper from behind her bedroom door.
—
With his wife on his arm, Severus walks into Malfoy Manor, head held high as he removes the black cloak draped across her shoulders and hangs it on a hook near the main entrance. He turns to his wife and offers his arm once more, his eyes dancing across her body. She is wearing an emerald green, long sleeve velvet dress. The collar hugs her throat tightly, the back swoops down into a deep V right above her rear. He chose this dress specifically for this occasion; if Amycus Carrow is in attendance tonight, he wants to rub in his face exactly what belongs to him. The fabric hugs her body deliciously. Red curls cascade down her back, the red on her lips accentuates her full lower lip and sharp cupids bow. She is utterly stunning. Dare he say, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
Seated in the parlor is Bellatrix and Narcissa, The Dark Lord had excused himself moments before their arrival. Bellatrix stands and circles them, her eyes narrowed on his wife. Severus sneers at her, his eyes never leaving her wand hand. His wife's hand was tucked into his right elbow, he uses his left hand to cover hers in a protective manor.
"Look who it is Cissy, our dear cousin Missus Snape." Bellatrix mocks. Narcissa doesn't make a sound, his wife looks up at him, her big blue eyes full of question. She had not been made aware of her relation to Bellatrix and Narcissa.
"I wonder," Bellatrix continues, circling his wife like a hawk as she trembles at his side. "Just how deep her loyalty to dear old dad lies. Tell me, Severus, did she cry when she learned of what I did to daddy dearest?" Bellatrix makes a pouting face, then cackles as she comes to a stop behind them, her face between both of their shoulders, her breath hot on their necks.
"That's quite enough, Bella." The Dark Lord hisses as he enters behind them. He feels his wife shudder on his arm. Bellatrix smirks at him as he sneers at her, then skips away to trail after The Dark Lord, who had now made his way across the room to stand beside Narcissa. Draco, who had been granted a weekend pass from Hogwarts, files in behind them.
"Such a shame, my dear, that you are not a Slytherin. You look truly ravishing in green." The Dark Lord hisses, his red snake eyes lingering longer than he would like on his wife's body. Bellatrix makes a gagging sound in the back of her throat; Draco's face turns a light shade of pink as he catches Severus' eye. The Dark Lord pours himself a glass of brandy and takes his seat next to Narcissa before the roaring fire.
"Th—thank you." His wife murmurs after he squeezes her hand reassuringly.
"I must say, Severus, you are lucky I allowed you to take on this endeavor. It seems you are getting much more satisfaction out of her than I am." The Dark Lord chuckles, Bellatrix cackles as she stands behind him massaging his shoulders. "Put a beautiful woman on your arm and suddenly you forget to check in. You fail to come when called upon."
"I apologize, My Lord. I was busy with Dumbledore; I could not get away. We came as soon as we could."
"We can't trust them, My Lord." Bellatrix whisper-yells from behind the Dark Lord, her eyes boring into Severus'.
Severus feels Him attempt to penetrate his mind. He relaxes his senses, erases his thoughts. He produces a false memory, one where he is healing Albus with nothing more than Calming Draught dyed a vibrant red color to mimic Antidote to Uncommon Poisons. The Dark Lord's presence snakes from his brain, only for his eyes to turn towards his wife.
"And what of you, my dear? What news do you bring me?" The Dark Lord asks calmly, his voice sending shivers down even Severus' spine.
"Don't trust her, My Lord. Don't listen to her." Bellatrix hisses in his ear. The Dark Lord lifts his hand, and Bellatrix goes flying backwards onto the ground. She feebly lifts herself, lip curled, and eyes narrowed on Severus. He sneers at her, daring her to speak again.
"OUT BELLA!" The Dark Lord bellows, his wife trembles at his side once more as Bellatrix backs out of the room, her eyes never leaving his.
With Bellatrix finally out of the room, Severus offers his wife a seat on the sofa opposite Narcissa and The Dark Lord. He pulls a vial from his cloak and holds it up, it's clear liquid gleaming in the candlelight. The Dark Lord nods his head slightly as Severus unscrews the silver topper and passes the vial to his wife, who takes it with trembling hands and swallows it in one gulp. Severus angles his body towards hers, he watches as her pupils dilate slightly with the addition of Calming Draught to the vial. Not enough to truly hinder her mind, but enough to allow her to get through a sentence without stuttering and shaking. The Dark Lord leans forward in his seat, eager to hear what she has to say. Draco stares down at his feet, his hands clasped to her mother's shoulders. Narcissa is focused on a spot on the wall, either unknowing, or uncaring that they are even there. Hs wife sighs deeply, runs her palms down her velvet coated thighs, and lifts her head to meet His.
"Dumbledore is out of the castle more than he is in. He is weak; weaker than I have ever seen him. He is guarding something in his office, I am close to finding out what it is. He has me brewing Blood-Replenishing Potions for him daily, as if he is using them to strengthen himself." Her voice is smooth and clear, and oh so feminine. She memorized word for word what he had instructed her to say. She did good, better than he could have anticipated. Severus sighs in relief as The Dark Lord sits back in his chair and chuckles slightly.
"Well done my dear." He hisses. "Find out what he has in that office. I am counting on you."
—
Severus leads his wife from parlor, dragging her slightly to keep up with him. Propped against the door frame, as if attempting to listen to the goings on inside, stand Amycus Carrow. Bellatrix scurries from his side as Severus and his wife step through the doorway. Severus stands a bit taller; he had taken the utmost pride in not only his wife's appearance that evening, but his as well. His boots gleamed in the candlelight, reflecting Amycus' angry red pig face. His hair was freshly washed and longer than he had worn it in years, the ends curling up ever so slightly as they brushed his shoulders. The robes he had purchased specifically for this night were the best he had ever warn and fit him well. A thin golden band, nearly identical to the one his wife wears fit snuggly around the fourth finger on his left hand. The shop attendant commented that it looked too feminine for his tall stature and large hands, but he liked it, and his wife gleamed when she noticed on his hand while they were readying earlier that evening. He wanted to smirk in Bellatrix's face when she noticed him wearing it, but if she had, she did not mention it.
"Amycus." Severus nods smoothly as he passes the squat, lumpy body of the man he despised with nearly everything in his.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as his wife turns her head over her shoulder as she hears the wheezy chuckle coming from Amycus, and the blood drains from her face. Severus quickens his stride, practically dragging her from the home as he feels her breath begin to quicken. Before they could make it to the gates to apparate back to Hogwarts, she begins to hyperventilate.
—
Outside of his wife, no one had seen is corporal Patronus since he was fifteen years old. Severus and Lily practiced all year long, and finally, shortly before the end of term their fourth year, a silvery doe shot from the tips of both of their wands. Lily jumped from her seat, grabbed his hands, and jumped in a circle, dragging him with her. The way she laughed and smiled that night would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life.
Severus tries desperately to pry his wife's hands from her face as she scratches and tears at her skin and pulls at her hair. Her skin is red and slicked with sweat, the words coming from her mouth are breathy and indecipherable.
He cannot parade her through the castle in this condition, no matter how late in the evening it may be. Severus pulls his wand from the sleeve of his robes, produces a non-corporal Patronus, and turns to is wife once more in an attempt to calm her. From the silvery glow of the stream of light barreling through the air, he catches a glimpse of the fear in his wife's eyes. She had recognized Amycus Carrow. He wraps his arms around her from behind and pins them to her side as she thrashes and screams in his arms. He is making whatever ails her worse, he knows this, but he cannot let her harms herself or run off into the darkness.
A soft pop in the distance catches his attention, for a moment, he believes it may be Albus and lets out a sigh of relief. This relief is short lived when the intruder mumbles Lumos and illuminates their face with a soft white glow. Before them stands Draco, looking just as frightened as his wife.
Draco surveys the image before him and readies himself to run through the Hogwarts gates. Severus removes one arm from around his wife and reaches into his robes for his ring of keys, separates the key to his private brewing room, and thrusts it into Draco's hand. The boy stands there shocked, mouth slightly gaped as he surveys the commotion before him.
"Draco!" Severus snarls as he uses every bit of his strength to keep his wife upright. "Go to my room, get Calming Draught." Draco stands there a moment shaking his head slightly, still processing what he was seeing.
"NOW!" Severus bellows. Draco jumps and scurries off into the darkness, keys jingling at his side.
Moments pass by as if they were hours as she thrashes and writhes in his arms. Despite the frigid air, her body is hot and slick with sweat. Severus has one arm wrapped around her chest, the other wrapped around her middle, holding her tightly against his body. His mouth is next to her ear, her hair tickles his nose in the late night gusts of icy winds. In the distance, footsteps crunch against the frozen snow.
Please be Albus.
Please be Albus.
To his relief, is Albus coming through the gates dressed in a deep purple robe, his lit wand held out to illuminate is steps. In the distance, another light bobs shakily across the yard, no doubt Draco returning with the potion he had been sent for.
"What has happened?" Albus questions, his voice cool and calm.
"I believe she recognized Amycus Carrow." Severus spits.
"It was a risk we have discussed." Albus states coldly as he circles the two of them slowly. "Is that Mister Malfoy I hear coming?"
"Yes."
"Ah. Let's hope tonight is not the night he decides to act." Albus winks with a slight chuckle. This was no time for jokes.
Draco's comes to a screeching halt at their side and holds out a shaking hand with two vials of Calming Draught. Albus takes them with a warm smile, pops the top, and comes closer. Severus removes his arm from around her middle, pulls her head against his neck, and pinches her cheeks to open her mouth. Albus pours the liquid down her throat as Severus clasps her mouth closed with one hand until she swallows. Suddenly, she goes limp against his body. He bends slightly, places one arm behind her knees, the other behind her shoulders, and lifts her form the ground. Draco stands there trembling slightly, eyes darting between the three of them before him.
"Ah. Young Draco." Albus announces calmly. Draco straightens himself in an attempt to seem under control. "Why don't you run ahead, make sure no one is lurking about? Clear a path to the dungeon for us."
Draco does not utter a word, instead he turns and runs back the way he came. Albus leads the way, gazing longingly up at the stars lighting their path as they walk slowly back to the castle. Severus glances down at his wife's now calm face as they come into the light of the Entrance Hall. She is not asleep, but her eyes are closed, her red lashes resting on her rosy cheeks. Her breathing had regulated itself, she no longer struggled in his arms.
Once in his private quarters, Severus lies her on the chaise lounge and lights a fire. Albus takes a seat opposite her, as Draco stands awkwardly in the doorway, his eyes darting around the room. Despite being his godson, he had never stepped foot in his private quarters. Severus stands and grips Draco's arm tightly, leading him away from the room and back towards the Slytherin common room. He takes one last look into the room as he closes the door; Albus was leaning forward smoothing his wife's hair from her sweaty face, mumbling something to her that only she could hear.
"I trust, Draco," Severus begins as he stares down his nose at Draco outside of the Slytherin common room entrance, his voice icy and smooth. Draco is a tall boy for his age, but Severus towers over him. "That what you witnessed tonight stays between the two of us."
"Wha—what happened?" Draco asks, his voice cracking slightly.
"It is no matter. Can I trust that you will not speak of this to anyone?"
"Was it…was it him?" Draco whispers in the dark.
"If you mean The Dark Lord, no. It was not him."
"Then what? Di—did you do something to her?" Draco's voice, no matter how small, was accusatory. Severus clenches his fists at his side.
"Are you insinuating that I harmed my wife?" Severus sneers.
"Well, did you? I mean, I show up, and she's going mad. It was just you and her out there!"
"No. I did not harm her. I was trying to prevent her from harming herself."
"Why would she harm herself?"
"Draco, go to sleep. Do not repeat tonight's events to anyone." Severus sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Swear it." Draco states defiantly, straightening his back. "Swear that it was nothing that you did."
"Why?" Severus asks quietly, removing his hand from the bridge of his nose to raise a brow at Draco.
"Because….Because I do not wish to lose you, too." Draco's eyes soften, the look on his face reminding him of the time he exploded a cauldron when he was five years old. Severus softens his gaze slightly, reminding himself that Draco is the closest thing to a son he will ever have.
"Then let me help you, Draco." Severus pleads once more.
"No! You know that I cannot!" Draco exclaims as he throws his hands in the air abruptly before running them over his slick backed hair.
"Draco—"
"Just swear it, Severus. Please." Draco begs, his dazzling grey eyes threatening to spill tears he had not seen in many years.
"Very well." Severus starts, not wanting to prolong yet another argument over Draco's reluctance to accept his assistance. "I swear, Draco. I appreciate your concern for my wife's wellbeing, as well as your assistance this evening."
Severus turns without another word and makes his way down the darkened corridor to his own private quarters. His footsteps reverberating off of the cold stone floor the only sound in the dungeon. He is reminded suddenly of his first day as professor; how nervous he was, how apprehensive the fellow professors were to have him alongside them. Severus had wanted someone to be proud of him, not for what he had done to land himself the position, but for being the youngest Hogwarts professor in centuries. Minerva eventually came around, and while she probably would not call the two of them friends, they had grown to have a mutual respect and admiration for one another. Severus on the other hand, regarded Minerva McGonagall as one the closest things he had to a friend, outside of Albus. If he lived, if she lived, would he be able to make her understand some day?
"Minerva, I am married." He would like to say.
Or perhaps, "Minerva, can you believe I have been married an entire year?"
He would even settle for, "Minnie, I would like to introduce you to my wife, Missus Danu Iris Snape."
Severus slowly opens his door, his wife and Albus were still in the same spots he had left them in before escorting Draco back to the common room. His wife was lying curled into herself on the lounge, Albus sitting in his chair next to her, leaned forward slightly with his elbows resting on his knees. He had opened the door so gently that neither of them had noticed his presence. He pauses a moment, leaning against the doorway soaking the scene in.
Soon, there will be no more Albus Dumbledore.
His wife would soon despise him.
"I will be going away soon, and I must ask that you look after Severus for me." Albus whispers.
"Are you going on a trip, sir?" His wife asks, her voice low and groggy due to the Calming Draught.
"Something like that." Albus chuckles softly, his icy blue eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "Soon, Severus will need you, just as you need him. He suffers in silence, let yourself be his peace."
Severus clears his throat before his wife has a chance to answer. Albus stands, smiles down at her, then pats her hand before making his way over to Severus.
"You can take it from here." Albus winks to him before disappearing down the darkened corridor.
—
Severus lies in his warm, comfortable bed, the weight of his wife's head on his chest anchoring him to the world. Her hair tickles his nose, he runs his finger through it to smooth it from his face, his fingers catching on small knots towards the ends. Gently, he removes them by spreading his fingers and tugging slightly. She sighs slightly, she loves it when he runs his fingers through her hair, and he did as well. The feel of the soft strands sliding between is fingers was relaxing, it calmed him after a stressful day.
"I'm sorry." She whimpers against his chest.
"For what?" Severus breathes as he works out a rather large knot at the nape of her neck.
"Last night. I don't know what came over me. I couldn't control it."
"I believe it was anxiety." Severus admits. He had read up on her symptoms in a book he had found in some of his mother's possessions buried deep in his trunk after she had fallen asleep. It was a self-help book of sorts, titled Overcoming Your Trauma. He had no idea his mother had actually acknowledged the things she had been through, much less taken steps to overcome them.
"That man, the one outside of the door. I knew him, I don't know how, but I did. He frightened me so much I couldn't breathe."
Severus doesn't respond, instead he smooths her hair back from her face and presses her head tighter against his chest. It is Sunday, they can do whatever they wished, and what he wished was to stay in bed with her on his chest for as long as possible.
"Bella…whatever, she said that she was my cousin." She asks drowsily as she stretches slightly. Severus feels her toes curl against his calf.
"Yes. She is, so is Narcissa. Though, technically they would be your second cousin." Severus admits as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and contemplates how he would manage to make both of their coffees from the bed without her spilling hers all over him and the bed.
"Why is she so cruel?" She asks as she rolls over to face him.
"Runs in the family." Severus looks down his nose into her big blue eyes.
"I'm not cruel."
"No, you are not cruel." Severus smiles slightly as she lifts herself slightly to kiss his lips gently.
"What did she mean when she asked you if I knew what she did to Sirius?" She settles herself back down on his chest and looks up at him with such trust.
"Bellatrix killed Sirius." Severus stares into her eyes and readies himself for any outburst she may have.
"Why would she do that? He was her cousin!" She exclaims, her brows scrunched in confusion.
"As we discussed, Bellatrix is overly cruel." Severus sighs as she watches her lifts herself from his chest, leaving him feeling light and empty.
She stretches her arms high above her head and groans slightly, her nipples peeking out of the thin fabric of her nightgown. There is no chance of them staying in bed all day now, once she was up, she was up. Severus slings his legs out of bed with a groan as he joints crack in protest. They had been aching more lately, especially his knees and hands. He makes his way across the room, the stone floor cold beneath his bare feet. He listens to his wife brush her teeth as he prepared their morning coffee. How she could stand brushing before her coffee, he would never understand.