The storm outside brews dangerously. Waves crash into the rocks lining the shore, the sound deafening in the shack. The swash nearly reaching the front stoop, Severus wonders briefly if he should place a protective charm around the property to prevent the sea from becoming his kitchen but decides to give it awhile longer to see if the storm eases up. Behind him, his wife rages nearly as deafening as the storm outside.
It had been a week since she first came. A week of sleepless nights and constant sight of her standing in his peripheral. He smelled coconut endlessly, heard her barking laugh in the distance.
"Look at me!" He catches her shout.
"How did you get here?" Severus asks, turning towards her and interrupting whatever it was that she was about to yell about. Between the waves crashing outside, the wind howling, and his pounding head, her words had been jumbled for the last half hour she had been standing behind him as he chopped Aconite.
"What?" She asks, flabbergasted.
"It was a simple question. There's no Floo Networks available in the village, The Knight Bus does not come here, you are alone, and you cannot Appa—"
"I can Apparate!" She shouts, stomping her foot as if she were a child. "Draco taught me!"
"My deepest sympathies to Mister Malfoy on what was undoubtedly a deeply unpleasant ordeal." Severus answers dryly as he makes his way to the other side of the shack, next to where she is standing.
She watches him intently, her eyes following every move he makes as he makes his way across the tiny shack to stand before her. He had forgotten just how much taller he is than her as he towers over her unyielding form to stare down his nose at her.
"Why do you do that?" She asks, her voice cracking slightly as if the presence of him before her stole her breath away.
"I assure you; I have no idea what you are talking about." Severus says with a smirk.
"You leave these long, elaborate letters telling me how intelligent I am, try to convince Flitwick to make me Head Girl, then speak to me as if I am the stupidest person you know." Her hands flail wildly midair as she speaks. He had forgotten how entertaining, and mildly infuriating this action was to watch.
"You are conceited, self-cent-" Severus begins, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Those were things that you did, that you said, not me!"
"Why must you insist on-"
"Me? Why do you insist on anything that you do?" She shouts, interrupting him once more. "I have more than earned the right to be angry with you. I deserve answers."
"Oh, excuse me. You deserve it, how silly of me. It seems you have been spending far too much time with Mister Potter, as his arrogance has rubbed off on you."
"The last night that we were together, when you told me that you missed me too, did you know then that you were going to leave?"
"That," Severus begins with a sigh, the guilt crawling from his gut to his throat at the memory of their final night together. "Is of no importance."
"Please, Severus. Just tell me why. I need to know why you did it." Her begging, those blue eyes clouding with tears, the way her bottom lip begins to tremble, it is all too much to bear.
Without thinking, Severus backs her up against the wall, just as he had done the last time she was here. Perhaps it is muscle memory, for this had been a strategy to get her to stop talking many times in their past, or maybe it was simply a way to feel her flesh against his. She is wearing a low cut tank top tucked into a high waisted cotton skirt, the hem ending just above her knee. Her red hair is loose, the curls dancing around her body like fire as the wind howls through the small shack, the smell of coconut is nearly overpowering. The brightly colored, mix-matched paint on her toenails was now accompanied by sparkling, multi-colored glitter on her long, rounded fingernails. Faded blue scribbles litter her arms, which she tries to hide against her thigh when she catches him glancing down at it. No doubt her idea of play time with Lorna is much more hands-on than he could have imagined.
Severus smirks slightly, opens his mouth to say something snarky, but is interrupted when she stands on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Time stops, his heart speeds, his eyes flutter shut, his breath is sucked from his lungs. As quickly as it starts, just as he begins to lean into her embrace, she pulls back slightly. Not fully, though. Her breath is warm and moist on his upper lip as she breathes heavily, his eyes slowly open back up to catch sight of her eyes closed, her long red lashes resting against the thin, veiny flesh beneath her eyes.
"Tell me that you don't love me." She whispers, her voice low and husky as she whispers against his lips. "I know about Cathleen. Tell me that you don't love me so that I can move on."
"There is no Cathleen." Severus murmurs as he relishes in the feel of her warm skin pressed against his front, her sweet breath on his face, and the whisper of a kiss she had planted on his lips.
"Just tell me the truth." She begs.
"As I said, there is no Cathleen. She is a Muggle. I warded my home; she won't be returning." He admits, desperate for her to kiss him once more.
"I'm sorry." Her breath hitches, her shoulders tighten as she presses herself against the wall, the soft exhale of her breath leaves his face as she leans her head back against the wall. She swipes her hand across her cheek, attempting to remove the tear streaking down her face before he can see it. "I shouldn't have kissed you. I just—"
Severus places one hand gently on the back of her head, the other on her shoulder, and pulls her in tightly to his chest. Her head rests in the center, the perfect place to hear the beat of his heart. She wraps her arms around his waist and pulls him tighter against her. It is as if they are one, two hearts beating together, filling one another with life.
"Would you like some tea?" Severus whispers against her head. He had meant to sound sincere, but his voice sounded gruffer than he had intended it to be, even to his own ears.
"No." She begins, pulling away from him and swiping her hand across her cheek. His arms are empty, his chest cold. "I mean, yes, I would, but I have to go get Lorna from Molly before it gets too late."
She backs away from him, closer to the door as he stands there, one arm still held in the air where it cupped the back of her head to his chest. She makes no move to actually leave, only stares at him for a moment as if contemplating something.
"Lorna's never been to the beach before." She states out of nowhere. "I'm usually off of work on Tuesdays, if it isn't raining, I will bring her over there," She points off towards the right of the shack where a small cove sits tucked into the cliffs. "She would like the water. You can join us, if you would like."
He does not reply, but watches as she turns and makes her way out of the door. The wind howls, nearly prying the thin wooden door from her hand. He wants to reply, but his mouth fills with cotton and his throat constricts, making it impossible to make his tongue function enough to form words.
"Severus," She begins once more. He looks up to see her standing in the doorway, one hand on the frame, the other on the doorknob. Her hair whips around her body in the wind before the rain blowing sideways soaks her to the bone. "You aren't him; you know."
—
Tuesday finds Severus pacing back and forth before the shack, lifting his head to the sky every few moments in an attempt to gauge the white clouds drifting in from the sea. Knowing his poor luck, they will bring downpours, but the clumps of cirrus clouds drifting overhead seem to be nothing more than a brief source of shade as they make their way past.
She hadn't said what time she would be bringing Lorna to the beach, so he chooses to pace back and forth between the front of the house, and the wooden bar lining the back wall of the shack. Every time he picks up his knife to chop herbs, a sound in the distance catches his attention and he bolts back out of the front door to ensure it isn't them making their way towards the cove.
He hadn't slept at all the night before; his nerves were too frayed. Twice that morning he had changed his clothes. The first choice, upon looking in the salt lined, full length mirror next to his bed, was wildly inappropriate for a day on the beach. It was his usual attire, his full length frock that buttons to the neck, over a white button down and a pair of black trousers. The second choice, what he ultimately settled on, is a thin cotton button down with the sleeve rolled up his forearms, and a thin pair of black slacks. Severus glances down at his forearm where The Dark Mark once resided on his arm. He takes a deep, shaking breath, thankful that his daughter will never live in that world, will never live in fear.
Lorna comes barreling down the beach, her black hair flowing wildly behind her, a wide grin plastered to her face as she squeals in delight.
"Mummy!" She cries as she turns back to her mother's figure coming into view carrying a wicker picnic basket and a large canvas bag. "I can't run fast!"
Her mother places the basket and bag down in the sand, kneels on one knee, and picks up a handful of sand that she allows to slide through her fingers. Lorna crouches down on her heels and copies her mother's motion, blocking his view of the two.
"It is the sand, love. It's harder to run in it because it is so soft. You're still fast, I promise."
Severus makes his way closer to the two figures, his heart pounds in his chest with each step he takes. Ahead, his wife removes a large blanket from the canvas bag and spreads it out on the sand. Next, she places the picnic basket on the blanket before turning to remove a glass jar from the discarded canvas bag. Behind her, Lorna remains crouched down in the sand, presumably still fixated on the sand spilling from her fingers. His wife catches sight of him first, a wide smile spreads across her face as she turns and places her hand on Lorna's shoulder, drawing her attention away from the sand which she was seemingly fascinated with.
"Lorna." She begins. Lorna stands and turns slowly, she lifts her head high, eyeing his figure up and down as he approaches. Her blue eyes are wide, her brow furrowed in confusion. For a moment, every ounce of wind in his lungs is stolen from him. She is much taller than he had anticipated. She got that from him. His wife remains seated on the blanket spread on the ground, eye level with Lorna. "This is Severus. Your dad."
"I don't have a dad." Lorna declares matter of factly as her brow scrunches closer together while simultaneously plunging a dagger into his heart at her confusion.
"We talked about this last night, remember? Everyone has a dad, even you. Sometimes people meet their dad's later, sometimes people never meet their dad's, and sometimes people always know their dad's."
Lorna thinks for a moment, her blue eyes drifting back and forth between him and her mother, her mouth slightly agape, her brow scrunched in concentration.
"Like Uncle Harry and James?" Lorna asks finally, a look of triumph spreading across her face.
"Yes, like Uncle Harry and James."
Lorna accepts this explanation as a victory, turns, and crouches down once more to grasps fistfuls of sand.
"Uncle Harry?" Severus asks lowly, one brow raised in question.
"It stuck. She spends a lot of time with Bill and Fleur's daughter and Teddy while with Molly. She watches them all during the day."
Severus remains standing, his shadow casting over Lorna's crunched form on the ground as his wife continues removing items from her bag. He doesn't pay an ounce of attention to the items she carries, he is much too consumed with Lorna, the two of them are each utterly fascinated. Her, with the sand and tiny pebbles that she removes carefully between her thumb and forefinger before examining closely, and ultimately allowing them to fall to the ground at her feet. Him, with his daughters figure before him. Her mother had been correct in labeling her curious. He allows his mind to drift for a moment, to relive the dreams he had been having for two years, the ones in which he is watching her learn and explore.
Suddenly, Lorna lifts her eyes to the sea. A glimmer of a smirk paces across her face, the same smirk mirrors on his own for a moment as he catches sight of it. The final ruminants of sand filters through her fingers, leaving a faint dust on the palms of her sweaty hands, which she wipes across the purple sundress she wears.
"Mummy, water?" She asks in a singsong, girlish voice. She holds up a chubby fist and gestures towards the choppy sea.
"Sun cream fist."
Lorna grins, revealing deep dimples on each cheek. His mother hand dimples, he used to love it when she smiled, because it was the only time they could be seen. With the exception of her round face and blue eyes, it was almost like looking at a miniature version of his mother. Lorna's eyes, if he were being honest, were rather shocking. They are so bright, so large. They looked almost out of place of her face, almost eerie, yet so beautiful. They are mesmerizing. The fact that her eyes are not brown like his own is a bit odd, weaker men would demand a paternity test for that simple detail. Tobias, however, did have blue eyes, the exact shade of Lorna's. Evidently that gene was buried deep within Severus' DNA and mingled perfectly with his wife's to plaster on to their daughters face.
Lorna stands patiently before her mother as she lifts the sundress over her head to reveal a yellow one piece swimsuit. She lathers Lorna's porcelain, spotless skin with sun cream as Lorna quickly loses her patience and begins shifting and jittering. The moment her mother's hands leave her body, she turns sharply and bolts directly for the ocean.
"Lorna!" Her mother shouts, jumping up quickly and rushing for the child barreling towards the choppy sea. She catches her just before her feet meet the tide and grips her hand tightly. "This is not the stream at home, it is dangerous. You can't do that."
Severus takes a seat on the blanket and watches in awe at the two figures before him. Lorna truly is fearless and brave. She jumps, dives, splashes, and runs all while her mother tries desperately to keep a grip on her arm should she be carried off with the waves.
Lorna pops up from under the water, her black hair plastered to her face. She swipes it away with one hand, the other held above her head. She says something to her mother that he is unable to hear at the distance he sits at, before she comes barreling towards him. Her mother stays behind, watching with interest.
"What is this?" Lorna demands as she skids to a halt before him. She shoves her grubby, sand coated and dripping wet hand towards his face. A black, plastic looking item with pinchers on either end rests in the palm of her upturned hand. Severus takes it, flips it over, and places it gently back into her waiting palm.
"It is a shark egg." Severus replies gently.
"Can I keep it?" She asks, batting the water from her long eyelashes.
"If you would like. It is empty."
"Hold it for me!" Lorna demands as she shoves the item towards him before taking off in the other direction, towards her waiting mother.
The remainder of the day is spent the same way. Lorna barreling up the coast towards him, asking him to identify an item she finds, thrusting it into his waiting hands, and then turning to go back for more. Finally, near three in the afternoon, her mother calls her back to the blanket to eat. She takes two bites of a sandwich, eats three strawberries, and falls asleep clutching a bottle of juice to her chest as her back rests against his leg, soaking him and plastering the fabric to his thigh. Severus gazes down at her, amazed at everything that she is, everything that she will grow to be.
He is lost in thought, lost in his daughters face. A strange click catches his attention. Turning his head slightly to the left, he catches sight of his wife crouched down in the sand, snapping a photo of the two of them on the blanket.
"She will sleep good tonight." She smiles, gesturing towards Lorna's sleeping figure with her chin. She comes and plants herself on the blanket near his outstretched feet and pops a strawberry into her mouth.
"You were correct." Severus begins as he glances down at Lorna once more. "You described her as, and I quote, 'so much.' You were correct."
"Yeah." She chuckles. "She is. I never want her to change."
The two of them leave not long after that. Severus stands in the very spot they had sat for a majority of the day, his pants leg still soaked, his heart aching as he watches their figures disappear beyond a bend. Finally, long after the side begins to come in and wash away their bare footprints, he turns and heads towards his empty shack. He does not sleep that night. He replays the day over again in his head, minute by minute, detail by detail. In his hand is a small scallop shell which he clutches tightly in his fist, allowing the frayed edges to bite into his flesh. Lorna had given him the shell as she left. Her small, chubby hand had clutched his in her own as she told him goodbye. In her other hand was the shell, as she pulled her hand from his, she slipped the shell into its place. He places the shell before the photo of her that Minerva had given him, lies on his side on the bed, his pants leg long since dried, and watches her silent laugh in the dim candlelight until the sun begins to creep through the window opposite his bed.