Frowning, I continue my usual stride through Hogwarts's quiet, dark halls towards the hospital wing. Judging by how Harry is walking beside me with Angel in his arms, I can tell his head is in the clouds now after his earlier encounter with Miss Lovegood. Have we already reached that stage where I'm forced to speak to the boy about girls and relationships? I truly thought I had a few more years before we had to cross this bridge. Not that we haven't skirted around the issue before, mind you. Because, unfortunately, we have.

It's absurd to think how much a witch can influence one's mind if one thinks about it. Either you become a starry-eyed zombie for her or bitter about how much you had to change your life for her needs. There's likely other ways, of course, but it all boils down to the fact they hold a certain power over others that are stronger than any Imperious Curse cast.

Not that we lucky souls who know of love would change it for the world, though.

But if one had asked me years ago about love, I'd have given my usual answer: It's a waste of time and creates a weakness that can be exploited. It's a tactical answer from one who has seen his fair share of war over his years. But that's not my answer any longer. There's so much more to it than that. Yes, it creates a weakness one could exploit, but it also creates a well of strength to draw from during difficult times. A person needs that to survive the harsh realities of life.

As we turn the corner nearing the hospital wing, I notice Granger walking towards us. Her head is down so I know she doesn't see us through that frizzled hair of hers that is currently in her face. I continue walking, taking note that she's sniffling as I pass by. Clearly something had to have upset her. I glance to Harry, expecting the young man to say something to his friend. Harry says nothing, though, still lost in his own thoughts. My daughter, however, does say something to the distressed witch.

"Mione! Don't go!" Angel calls after her.

Harry blinks almost instantly, snapping out of his thoughts. "Huh?" He glances from Angel in his arms to me. "What's going on, Dad?"

Noticing that Granger has hurried her pace, I sigh. Clearly, she doesn't want to be seen. "Nothing, Harry." I push open the oak door then and hold it open for Harry and Angel. "In you go." Thankfully, the boy doesn't argue and enters soon after. I follow in a moment later.

"And here I thought Severus was bad," I hear my wife say.

With my hand still on the door holding it open, I stare at her dumbfounded. What on Earth? My eyes then dart to the side and notice Draco with his forehead pressed against the wall. Judging by Harry's confused look to me, he hasn't a clue what's going on either. Though, my mind is focusing more on Aurora's words. I'm bad?

"Draco was trying to talk with Hermione, and it didn't go well for him," Aurora offers.

My annoyance increases tenfold. Does she truly have to tell everyone in the entire bloody world that I have certain difficulties speaking sometimes when she's around? Shouldn't some things like that remain private and between us alone? No, of course not. Not in her mind. No. No she has to tell everyone about how much of a dunderhead I become sometimes because of her. How wonderful. Yet again I'm the butt of a woman's jests. I try to recall why I allowed our relationship to continue and grow. I should have just turned away from her the moment she first said hello and remained alone.

She then smiles at me, and my annoyance starts to falter. Damn her and her smile. Slowly, she holds her arms out to Harry. When the young man hands Angel over without hesitation, Aurora pulls our daughter closer, kissing her forehead like the loving mother she is while she gives Harry a sideways hug. My annoyance is hardly existent now, and I sigh inwardly.

"Oh, sweetheart, Mummy missed you," she murmurs, hugging our daughter. "Actually, I missed all of you. What do you say to us going home, hmm?"

"Sounds great, Mum," Harry replies. "Right, Draco?"

The young blond mumbles something, but I can't make it out.

Aurora's dark eyes meet mine, and she smiles again at me. She doesn't have to say the words because I know. I've always known, even when I refused to believe it.

"Always and forever, my love." My eyes close, and I breathe in when I hear her in my mind.

Always and forever.

Later at dinner, as I watch my daughter flee from me with tears streaming down her face, I feel my stomach twist horribly into painful knots. How could I have said that to her?

Draco's words then assault me as he stands up for her. I glance at him, noticing his anger and deep look of hatred. What have I done? When he draws his wand, I stare at him numbly.

No. No this all must be a dream. I couldn't have just caused my daughter to run sobbing from me. It's a nightmare. It has to be. I'm not that angry man anymore. I glance to Aurora and notice her deep frown. What have I done?

"I'll kill you before that will ever will happen. Do you understand me? You will not make her like you!" Draco jabs his wand at me threateningly. However, when he tries again, his wand vanishes, and my eyes snap back to my wife.

"That's enough! Both of you!" snarls Aurora, her eyes cold and hard.

She points at me and says nothing to me. She doesn't need to, though. I've screwed up royally. We all know it. Turning away silently, I head to my daughter's room.

What have I done?

Why is it that whenever I get angry or annoyed I lash out at the ones I love? I've always been like that. It's why others always kept their distance in the past. Draco's right. I lashed out because I was bested by a four-year-old. She had me, and she knew it. I should have done the proper thing and kept the annoyance and anger at bay. For Merlin's sake, she's four! She doesn't know any better really. I—I don't deserve them. I should go and save them the heartbreak.

One Obliviate, and she'll be happy again. And then I can walk away, knowing that Aurora will make things right again. They'll hate me, but I'm used to hatred. Hatred is what comes naturally around me. I could do that. Make them hate me so they're all right. I could—

My eyes close, and I inhale shakily. It needs to be done. I . . . I'm a coward. It's true. I . . .

Through the door, I hear my daughter's sobs and feel my heart constrict. I'm the reason she's crying like that. Not anyone else. Me! All because I couldn't keep my damn mouth shut.

My hand turns the knob, but I don't walk in. I can't.

I don't deserve happiness. I never have. Lily told me that once. Of course, that was after I had called her a particular nasty word.

Sighing, I press my head against Angel's door. I should walk in and apologize. I know I should, but I can't. Not yet. I need to . . . to get back in control. I can . . . I glance down the hall. I can talk to her later. After we've both had time to cool down. Because I honestly couldn't bear to hear my daughter scream how much she hates me right now.

I inhale slowly and pull my hand back. I'll speak with her in a few minutes. When we're calmer. When she's no longer crying and breaking my heart. I'm the reason for that.

Aurora will likely hate me, but I can't do this. Not yet. I turn away from the door and head back to our sitting room. Harry seems to have finally snapped out of it, I notice.

"I wouldn't say I'm twisted up inside," Harry states, rubbing the back of his neck.

I roll my eyes and enter the room, tugging on my sleeves. "Don't let him fool you, Aurora. He could barely say two words when he saw her earlier." When I glance at my wife, I notice her crossed arms and look. She knows.

"Hey!" he growls, glaring at me.

"Severus," Aurora says with a pointed look. "Let Harry speak."

Inclining my head, I sit down beside her. Judging by the fact she hasn't gotten up and moved to the other side of the room, she's not too mad at me it seems. I sigh inwardly and glance at Harry to watch him push himself up off the table.

"Actually, you know, I think I'm going to head out. Long night and all," he says weakly.

"Harry James Potter, you sit back down at this table right now," Aurora commands beside me, her tone forcing him to stop in mid-step. She never uses that tone with him. With anyone really. Except me sometimes, which I know she'll do later when we're alone. "I will not repeat myself, young man," she states.

He whirls around a second later yelling at the top of his lungs and flailing his arms.

"I think I love Luna! All right? Or at least love her like a friend. Or something. Gah! I don't know!" He grabs a bit of his hair and tugs on it. "Everything is just all too damn confusing for me right now. And you treating me like some five-year-old is not helping! Because I know it's not what either of you want . . . it's not what I should want either, but that's the way it is. Okay? So, forgive me for not wanting to discuss that with either of you two, two people who couldn't even manage to declare your love for each or understand it until just last year!"

I blink the moment he starts shouting at us. Then his words hit me. He loves Luna? What we want? What in the world is he going on about? I open my mouth to speak, but he runs out before I have a chance to say anything. The portrait closes behind him, and I sigh. Well, this day has just thoroughly sucked it seems.

"Go apologize," Aurora states, not wasting a single second once we're alone.

"I . . ."

She crosses her arms again and gives me that look that is so eerily familiar to that of one my mother has given me many times.

"Severus, you are many things. Stubborn jackass. Heartless bastard. All-around git somedays. But a bad father you are not."

I glance towards our daughter's room and sigh, my shoulders slackening.

"She hates me."

"Yeah, well, I hated you for a moment there too. Now, go in there and tell her what a big dunderhead you are."

Nodding, I push myself up off the table and head towards Angel's room again. I glance back at my wife and notice her waving me to go on. My hand goes to the doorknob again, and I open it this time. I don't deserve them.

"Angel?" My voice is soft, barely above a whisper, as I enter the room.

I hear that Angel's sobs have turned into hiccups now and force myself to move closer to her. I want her tears to disappear. To hear her sweet laughter once more. To feel her arms around my neck as she murmurs sleepily how she loves me. To hear her say Daddy once more with all that love and innocence she has. I want . . .

A pillow suddenly flies towards me, and I duck instinctively. My daughter's dark eyes, my eyes, stare back at me. I no longer see the familiar warmth and love. Only hatred stares at me.

"I'm so sorry, Angel."

Her glare intensifies, her eyes becoming even colder as she stares at me.

"Please? Angel, I am so sorry."

She throws something else at me, her nostrils flaring out slightly. When I duck again, I hear an intense crackling. I can feel . . . something else too. I can't discern it quite yet, but I push forward.

"I didn't mean it," I say, looking at my feet. "I didn't mean anything I said to you. Promise. I'm sorry, love. I just . . . Daddy's an idiot. Certifiable dunderhead, sweetheart." I glance up at her then.

When I see a jet of light streaking towards me, I throw up my hand and cast a quick shield charm. It slams into me, though, shredding through my shield like it's nothing. I feel intense pain that is worse, so much worse, than a Cruciatus curse flood my body. My head falls back. My back bows. And I try to scream as every nerve flares up, but no sound leaves my throat. Images then flash before my eyes. It takes a moment before I realize that they're my memories. Memories of my time as a Death Eater. She's . . . I gasp and try to push past the pain, realizing what she's done. I have to stop her. Push her out. She doesn't know what she's doing. She's . . . oh . . . As quickly as the pain came, though, it vanishes suddenly, and I slam hard onto the floor, my breaths heaving.

The nausea and intense headache then comes. Groaning, I lift my head up and notice that she's limp on her bed. Her little body couldn't handle that. No one could untrained. I clench my teeth and push myself up. I need to get to her. I just reach her bed, using her blanket to pull myself up, when the door to her room opens up.

"Severus—holy—What the hell happened?"

"Aurora," I rasp, my breathing still coming as gasps. "Help . . ." I inhale sharply when I feel her arm wrap around me as she tries to help me up. As soon as I can, I lay beside our daughter, my hand cradling the side of Angel's head.

"Severus?" I wave Aurora off, though. I need to concentrate.

Closing my eyes, I mouth 'Legilimens' and feel myself thrown into her young mind instantly. She's too young to understand what she did. To understand that kind of magic. It took me years to master this, and much of the time was just reading about it. I find Angel a few seconds later, cowering with her knees drawn up to her chest in the darkness. I hold my hand out to her and pull her towards me when she grabs my hand. We leave her mind soon after, and I sigh heavily. That was too close.

"Daddy," my little girl whimpers, curling into a ball as the pain is likely very great.

No spell will take away her pain. A potion, though . . . "Top drawer. Bed," I groan, my voice faltering so I can only get the first half out before feeling my body tense once more. I feel Aurora leave then and close my eyes. I feel sicker than I've ever felt before. But uncontrolled Legilimency does that to one unfortunately.

I rub gentle circles on my daughter's back. I can hear her whimpers grow, and my heart constricts even more. "Shh. I know, love. I know." When she vomits a moment later, I keep her rolled onto her side so she doesn't asphyxiate.

"Here. There's only a bit left, though," Aurora declares as she rushes back into the room a moment later.

I grab it from her and nod. Unfortunately, I knew that when I sent her for it. I gently try to pull Angel up for a moment as she seems to have paused in sicking up. I can't keep ahold of her, though, as the pain still is radiating through me. Luckily, Aurora seems to understand what I'm doing.

"For her," I rasp.

"But . . ." My eyes dart to my wife, and she understands. She pours the clear potion into Angel's mouth and gently massages her throat to swallow it. It doesn't take long before we both know it's worked. Angel's body slackens, and her breathing normalizes.

It's only then that I feel myself start to relax slightly. Angel will be all right now. I see Aurora vanish the vomit and glance at her again.

"What do you need me to do?" she asks.

"Sleep," I say through shaky breaths. "I need sleep."

She nods and picks our daughter up. She then glances around before she pulls my wand out of my robes. I can see the wheels turning in her head. She's debating whether to levitate me out of the room to our bedroom or expanding Angel's bed temporarily.

"Levitate," I whisper before I groan and shudder.

"Are you sure?" When I grab her forearm, she sighs. "All right. Our bed it is." She flicks her wand, and suddenly I'm weightless.

I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing as she levitates me to our bedroom. When I feel the soft bed a moment later, I reopen my eyes and roll onto my side. She's set Angel down beside me.

"Maybe Pomfrey has some more of that stuff."

"No." I grab her arm again. "Only I have it."

"Well then, where's your book? I'll have Slughorn or someone brew it for you quick."

If I weren't in so much pain, I'd smile at that. My wife, always wanting to lessen my pain.

"Too long to brew." I then move my arm underneath Angel's head.

"Well, there has to be something I can do!"

My hand pats the empty spot on the other side of our daughter as I glance at her.

"You honestly believe I can sleep after that? I mean, Circe, Severus . . . this day sucked Merlin's balls and then some, you know that?" I can't fight the smile that time. She reluctantly agrees, though, and climbs in on the other side of our daughter.

The moment I feel her head rest atop of my arm, I sigh softly. My body slackens a bit more.

"We did have a pretty," I groan and wince "shitty day, didn't we?"

"The worst." Her eyes then move to Angel. "She'll be all right?"

"Yes. Just needs to rest."

"Like you."

"Yes." Another groan leaves my lips. "I forgot how much this hurts." I've only felt like this once before. It was the only time I ever lost control with my Legilimency, using it as a weapon to cause pain, and I paid that price dearly as did Aurora.

"I don't," she quietly admits, her fingers gently carding through our daughter's hair.

I snort before I start coughing softly. "Safe to say, karma works."

"That's not what I'm saying, Severus."

"I know." Of course, she wouldn't mean that. I can push her to the breaking point, but she would never wish me to be in pain like this. She's too good for that. Too loving. I close my eyes and draw in a shuddering breath.

My head feels like I've been hit by a hundred Erumpents repeatedly. That and as if someone's dug around my head with a dull spoon. At least I don't feel so nauseated as I did earlier. One bright spot at least, I guess.

"Does this, I mean, is she natural then or is this just some sort of remnant? I know I don't know much about that branch as you do, but I do remember some of it."

"I don't know." I glance at our sleeping child and sigh silently. Could Angel be naturally inclined to Legilimency? It's possible, I suppose. The vampires had been going on about some sort of gifts passed on to her by interference with my mother. And to be honest, Aurora's pregnancy with her was far from normal by any means. I had given her a potion that had accelerated her pregnancy unbeknownst to me, and then some Elder had sped it up even more to have her born. Truth be told, our daughter, unfortunately, has had more magic surrounding her in her short life than most witches have. The only way to know for certain is to wait and see if it disappears.

"We have to teach her to control it, though, right? Just so it doesn't happen again."

How does one teach a four-year-old how to clear her mind? Frowning, I wonder if either Syra or my mother know of ways to do this. I suppose Orin or one of the vampires might even know. I'll send them an owl in the morning.

Glancing over at Aurora, I notice her worried look. It'll work out in the end. I know it will. I move my hand slightly so it rests against her and close my eyes again. Sleep. I need sleep.

When I wake up again, it's to someone's finger trailing down the side of my face. The majority of my pain is gone, but I still feel a dull ache in the back of my head. I slowly open my eyes and find dark innocent eyes staring back at me. Angel.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?" I murmur, coughing a moment later when she drops herself on my chest and hugs me tightly. Her bony little shoulder digs into my chin.

"I sorry, Daddy," she cries loudly right beside my ear. "I didn't . . . I sorry."

My arms come up and wrap around her gently. "Shh. It's okay. I know you didn't mean to do that, love. It's okay."

"I just . . . you . . ." She then pulls back from me before she punches me hard in the chest.

I cough loudly again, a sudden surge of pain shooting through me.

"Whoa there, sweetheart," Aurora says somewhere off to our side. "Let's not hurt Daddy today, all right?" She rests a gentle hand against my shoulder a moment later and smiles down at me.

"That was very mean of you," Angel declares, looking down at me and ignoring her mother.

"I know, my Angel. Daddy is so sorry."

"You better." She then turns to Aurora and frowns. "But I shouldn't have hurt you, Daddy."

"You didn't mean to. I know." She just has the unfortunate luck of having my temper it seems. She stares at me for a few more moments before she crosses her arms. Inwardly, I smile, thinking how very much she looks like her mother right now.

"Unicorns are pretty and good and they don't . . . why do you want to hurt them? They didn't do nothing to you. Unless you don't like pretty things." She then leans towards me, Aurora quickly grabbing her so she doesn't hit me again. "Do you?"

It takes every bit of self-control in me not to laugh.

"No, sweetheart. I don't have anything against unicorns."

"But you said you were gonna make them into potions."

"I won't."

"But . . ."

"I won't, Angel. I won't hurt any unicorns. Promise."

My daughter's eyes narrow on me as if she's debating whether I'm telling the truth or not. I only stare back at her, ignoring Aurora's badly hidden smile behind Angel.

"Okay. I believe you."

"Now, what do you have to say to your dad?"

"Nothing," Angel replies, slowly pushing up off me.

"Angel Celestria."

"Yes?" the cheeky brat says, batting her eyes up at her mother. She's so Slytherin somedays it's too cute to watch.

"Your father apologized for being a bastard to you."

My eyes dart to my wife. I'm not quite certain using that term around our daughter is wise. I grimace as I imagine our four-year-old using that word in the middle of the Great Hall one day. No doubt, I am going to be the one suspected first of teaching her that word.

"I know, and I sorry for hurtin' him."

I can just hear Angel's 'So everything's good again, Mum, as it's not a big deal' in her tone. I clearly have been around teenagers too long.

"It's fine, Aurora," I say quietly, waving her away.

"Fine. Then, do you think you're well enough to brew today with your daughter?" I can see Angel's excitement almost instantly, as her face lights up and she starts clapping wildly.

"I suppose." I don't normally brew with her nearby, since it always runs the risk of her getting hurt. But I understand what Aurora is doing. Angel and I do need to spend some time together.

"Good. Then you can brew more of that potion from last night, yeah?"

I pause for a moment and think about the ingredients. "We could."

"Good." Aurora then hands me my potions book. "Get brewing." Without another word, she whirls around and walks out.

Angel scrunches up her face in response before she turns to me. "Mummy's really bossy sometimes, isn't she?"

I snort and kiss my daughter's forehead. "Only when she wants to be, love." Slowly, I get up out of bed before I grab my book and head to my private lab next door. Angel is right beside me the entire time clutching her teddy bear in her arm. I wave my hand at the door to undo the lock and open it for her, which she grins up at me before she enters. We don't brew together frequently, as I admit I'm still hesitant to allow her near such dangerous things. I only ever want to keep her safe. She stands off to the side, just as I've always instructed her to do, until I enter.

"Can I help get you stuff again, Daddy?" she asks while I roll up my sleeves.

"A few of them, yes." The ones I'm certain won't hurt her, which leaves about four or five ingredients for her to retrieve in a thirty-seven-ingredient potion. I grab the first jar from the shelf and set it beside her at the table. Billywigs. I glance at her as she moves closer. "Do you think you can pick out two of them for me?" She bites her lip in response and glances back at the jar.

"Two?"

I nod and wait. She may be four, but we have been working on counting lately. Sort of. We've touched on it at least. For a few minutes at a time. Not surely enough time as I would have liked, but that is going to change now that the Dark Lord and Mezra and all the others who wish to hurt my family are gone. I watch her glance back at the jar again nervously.

"Would you like help?" I ask, noticing her little head shake fervently instantly. She's going to be stubborn today. All right then. I grab the next jar, powdered bicorn, and head to the cauldron with it. With my free hand, I wave it at the large black cauldron and lit the fire below it.

"Daddy?" she finally says a few moments later, after I've already added the powdered bicorn, water, and cherry juice.

I glance at her and see her look of sheer misery of the seven piles of Billywigs she has stacked in front of her. She knows that's too many. I walk over to her a moment later and pat her head gently.

"There is no shame in asking for help, my Angel." Which is rich coming from me, I suppose, since I rarely break down and ask for help. But she luckily doesn't know that thankfully. "Let's count aloud, shall we?"

"Okay." She then glances back at her piles. When I point to her first pile, she stares at it for a moment and scrunches up her face. "Um . . ." She glances back up at me. I hold up my index finger, and her eyes lit up. "One! It's one, Daddy!"

"Correct." She must have only memorized numbers by my use of fingers, I realize. I then hold up my middle finger as well with my index finger.

"Two!" She claps her hands together before she glances at the piles. "But I don't see that, Daddy. Do you?" She then pushes some of the piles away before she moves some of them into a 'V'. "There." She looks back up to me beaming.

"No, love. That's not two." I move one of the blue dead insects away from her pile. "How many is that?" She glances at it and sighs.

"One."

"Correct." I then move another beside the first. "And that?"

She glances up at me, biting her lip. "Two?"

"Is that a question or an answer?"

"Answer," she replies with a determined nod.

"Correct." I then move another beside the other two. "How many is that?"

She bites her lip and sighs. "The one after two?" she says, glancing up at me.

"Three." I then move each bug counting as I do. "One. Two. Three." I then add another bug. "Four." And add another. "Five." One more bug is added. "Six." Another joins the pile. "Seven."

She nods slowly and moves two bugs from the pile.

"How many did you move?" I ask.

"Two."

"Correct." I then ruffle her hair and sigh softly. "How about you put those back and then just watch Daddy today, all right?" She smiles up at me and nods, moving to sweep the insects into her hand to add to the jar. "We'll work on counting some more later." I pick up two of the Billywigs and add them to the cauldron. I glance at my notes and frown. Troll blood and aconite are next. Fifth and eleventh shelves on the right side. I turn around to retrieve them, taking note that Angel is looking at some of the ingredients on the fourth shelf. I pluck my ingredients and head back. It's nice to see her so fascinated by all the jars. Maybe there's hope she'll take after me in potions yet.

"Daddy?" she asks after several moments of silence.

"Yes?" I say with my back turned to her, adding bits of lily to the bubbling turquoise potion.

"What's this?"

I slowly turn around and notice that she's holding a small jar of silver liquid in her hand. Without thinking, I answer honestly. "Unicorn blood." The moment the words leave my lips, I watch her eyes widen and the jar fall from her hands. It shatters instantly at her feet, and deep down I groan as I think how much that is going to cost me. Not that it matters considering my horrified four-year-old is likely going to hate me again.

"Angel," I start to say, taking a step towards her.

My daughter, however, turns away and darts out the door.

"Unicorn killer!" she shrieks, disappearing around the corner.

I throw back my hand and cast a nonverbal stasis charm on my potion before I rush out after her. Thankfully, I find that she hasn't gone far. Aurora is currently holding and hugging her.

"Daddy's a unicorn killer!" Angel cries into Aurora's chest.

I notice my wife's look, and I wince. One of these days I will think before I answer Angel. She's not Harry or Draco after all. They understand that I haven't killed it. Just collected its blood after something else killed it in the Forbidden Forest years ago.

"Angel, sweetheart," I start to say, grimacing when she glares at me again. "Daddy didn't kill the unicorn." I notice Aurora's 'tread lightly' look and nod at her.

"You got its blood!"

"I do," I respond honestly.

"Then you killed it!"

"No. It was already dead, love." Her glare deepens. "Unicorn blood is very powerful."

"Unicorns did nothin' to you, Daddy!"

"They haven't. And I'm not doing anything to them."

"Except cook them," she spits back.

"Angel, I promise. I'm not hurting the unicorns." This whole conversation is absurd, but then again most are when speaking with a four-year-old. Cooking unicorns? Even though I know she means brewing with their ingredients, it's still preposterous to think one would cook them.

"Are to."

"Sweetheart, if your daddy says he isn't hurting unicorns, then he's not hurting them," Aurora says softly, sticking up for me.

"But he had a jar of their blood, Mummy!"

"I know, love, but Daddy loves unicorns. He would never hurt one."

"But that's not what he said last night."

Aurora glances at me with a look that clearly says our daughter is too smart sometimes. "Well, sweetheart, sometimes Daddy can be a bit of git. Just remember, though. Your daddy is all bark and very little bite when it comes to you, all right?"

"But he said he was going to use them to cook if he got me one."

"I know he did, sweetheart. But he didn't mean it."

My daughter glances at me.

"How can you be sure, Mummy?"

"Because I know your daddy, Angel. He wouldn't hurt such a beautiful and innocent creature."

Angel sniffles, using the back of her sleeve to wipe the tears from her eyes. "Is Mummy right?"

"Yes." I kneel down to her, ignoring the slight pain this elicits. I'm really getting to old for this. "I am so sorry, my Angel. So sorry that I upset you last night. That I made you cry. I didn't mean what I said. Your mum is right. I'm a big dunderhead. Saying things I shouldn't and—I'm sorry, Angel. Please forgive me. Please forgive your foolish, idiotic father who really needs to keep his mouth shut sometimes. Please?" When she stares at me, sniffling some more, I sigh silently and grab her small hands. "I'm so very sorry, Angel. Daddy will do his best not to be a git to you again. Promise."

She bites her bottom lip, staring at me. "Pinky promise?"

I hold up a pinky and smile faintly to her. "Pinky promise." When she wraps her arms around me a moment later, I close my eyes. I'm going to have to do my damnedest to keep that promise to her. The sound of clapping then echoes in my ears. I glance up at Aurora and notice it isn't her clapping.

"Jezlyn, knock it off."

Oh but of course. My sister-in-law. Figures. As if I need more adolescents in my life.

"And people think Professor Snape is the biggest git since the dawn of time," Jezlyn drawls from the sofa she's sitting at. "Though, I have to hand it to you, dear brother-in-law. You are a good father. Our dad wouldn't have knelt like that, but that's only because once you get past thirty you're too old to do that sort of stuff. Wait. How old are you again, sir?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Miss Sinistra?" I reply, using my best intimidating tone I can muster. In return, the cheeky girl grins at me.

"I don't know, Professor. Is there?"

"Dear sweet younger sister of mine," Aurora says, feigning her sweetness, "please do remember that you are speaking with your Head of House currently. One who could make your life a living hell. Understood?"

Jezlyn rolls her eyes and inclines her head. "Whatever you say, my very experienced and older sister." She then glances at me. "Many apologies, sir. I could perhaps make it up to you, Professor, by escorting my niece to see her brothers?"

My eyes narrow on her. She's up to something.

"That is if you're all right with it, sir?" she adds, holding my gaze.

Angel almost instantly pulls away from me with a wide grin. "Can I? Can I see them, Daddy?"

I glance to Aurora and notice her frown. She's thinking the same thing I am, no doubt. But do we really have any reason to keep our daughter from seeing her brothers? After all, Jezlyn may be up to something, but it's clear the whole Sinistra family is nothing but lovers not fighters. Unless warranted under extreme conditions, and there is no condition for it currently.

"What do you say, sir? Could I take her? Just for a bit? I promise we won't get into any trouble."

Aurora shrugs at me, as if to say it's my decision. Sighing, I look back down to Angel. She seems to want to do this. And the boys certainly could need a distraction, I suppose.

"Is that a yes then?"

I sigh silently and slowly stand up. "Two hours, and not a moment longer. Is that understood? And if I even so much as hear a word from anyone that you and my daughter were near anything even remotely close to trouble, you will find yourself in detention quicker than a Hufflepuff can find a sandwich." Angel quietly snickers.

"Understood, sir." She holds her hand out to Angel, who happily goes skipping towards her.

"Bye, Daddy. Bye, Mummy." And with that, they're gone, heading out the portrait soon after.

"Did we do the right thing?" I ask, not expecting an answer.

"Probably not, but what can we do? Lock her in here the rest of her life?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing, Aurora," I drawl, glancing at my wife. I catch her amused smile and sigh. "What do you think she's up to?"

"Knowing Jezlyn, probably using our daughter to get herself a date for the ball."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, she was going on about how no one has asked her yet." She shrugs. "Course I told her I was going by myself as well, seeing as how no one has asked me either."

"Is that so?" I've wondered when she would start on this.

She takes a step closer to me. "It is."

I can smell the strong scent of raspberries again. Amortentia is nothing when compared to Aurora's perfume. When she places a hand on my chest, I feel the instant jolt of energy between us again and force myself not to inhale deeply.

"Of course, that could all be because everyone's worried about the ogre I'm married to. Do you know he honestly wanted to lock me in some remote part of the castle last year? As if I was Belle to his beast." Her lip twitches slightly as she tries to stop herself from smiling.

"How horrible."

"It is." She wraps her arms around my neck. "The kids are gone, Severus."

"So I see."

"It's just you and me."

"Indeed."

"All alone."

I nod, enjoying the annoyance slowly crossing her face.

"No interruptions. Just you and me."

"And me!" a nasally voice pipes up from above the fireplace.

Aurora's hands fall from my neck instantly, and she groans. "Somedays I hate this castle." She turns towards the portrait hanging above the fireplace. "I don't suppose you can go away for, like, an hour or two, Phineas?"

"Only an hour or two?" he replies, glancing at me. "When I was alive, I'd go for at least six, young man. I can give you a few potions to take if you'd—"

"Ugh! All right. I'm thoroughly creeped out now," Aurora declares, shaking off her disgust at his words. "Let's go finish your potion, all right?"

I incline my head and follow her back into my private rooms. There was a time when having Phineas Nigellus in my rooms was an asset. Now, he's quickly becoming a liability.

Before we reach my lab, I gently grab her arm and stop her. She pauses and gives me a confused look. I wave it off, though, secretly casting a Privacy charm around us.

"For the record, I wasn't aware I had to ask you to the ball. But if that's what you'd like—" I start to say before she presses a finger against my lips.

"I was teasing earlier, Severus. I don't need you to ask me like we're fifteen again. After all, there's enough squirming young men around here, don't you think?"

I snort and nod. Her finger falls away from my lips.

"It's sort of nice, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Just being Severus and Aurora for once. Not having to worry about the Dark Lord or Mezra or the next big attack. No more Order. No more Death Eaters. Just . . . normalcy."

"Or at the very least as normal as we can get," I reply with a faint smirk.

"With a mother-in-law who hates my guts."

"As yours hates me."

"Two fathers-in-law who are doting on their grandchildren all the time."

"Indeed. And two teenage boys who are likely more nervous about the ball than needed."

"And a certain four-year-old who wants to be treated like an adult." My eyes narrow on her. "She was asking me last night before everything went to hell if she could go to the ball with Fred."

I snort. "Ah. No doubt, Mister Weasley will accompany Miss Johnson."

"Probably, but our daughter is persistent."

"She gets that from her mother."

"And father, let's be honest." She sighs. "Draco will ask Hermione of course. But Harry . . ."

"Acceptance is the first step, and judging by his reaction last night, that's done."

"What do you think about his going with Luna?"

I shrug. "There are worst choices. Though, I would imagine he needs to ask her soon before Mister Longbottom does." She snorts.

"Neville's going to ask Miss Weasley."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he's only been staring at her all year, Severus."

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything." She gives me that familiar 'You can't be serious' look. "He could just be very good friends with her."

"Yeah, and Pomona and Filius aren't at all dating, are they, Severus?"

"That's different."

"Is it?" She crosses her arms and stares at me.

"They've been very cordial with one another for years. They've just recently decided to become involved. Miss Weasley, however, well, you've seen the way she is."

"The way she is?" Aurora laughs before she rolls her eyes. "Can you imagine what the students would think if they knew we discussed them like this?"

"It's no different from the rumors they create about certain other members of staff."

"Which sometimes are so far off base. You have to admit that."

I shrug. "They are correct about your friend after all."

"Well, of course they are. It's not like Septima's hidden her feelings about Sirius in the slightest. In fact, I'm surprised that we haven't seen more of him lately considering."

My eyes narrow on her. "Considering what?"

"Oh, um, well, since he's, you know, Sirius."

"If you're concerned your friend is going to get—"

"I'm not concerned for her. I'm concerned for him, Severus."

"Why? Black will leave her once he gets bored like all the others before her."

"Not before Septima decides to, you know, grow the house of Black."

I groan instantly and think of anything but that. "Thank you for that lovely picture."

"Welcome," she says with a smile. "By the way, we're supposed to meet with Declan and Esmée later. They seem to know what's going on with our daughter."

"You informed them?"

"Well, they have always been involved with my family, and they are centuries-old vampires." She shrugs. "If anyone knows what's going on, it'll be them. They know of the old ways and such. Maybe they can tell us how to help her." I nod, hoping she's right.

After speaking to them, I retreat to my office. I need time to think. Could it be possible that all of Angel's accidental magic is just remnants of the Elders' interference like Declan and Esmée claim? We could wait and see if she grows out of it, but I've never been good at waiting when it comes to my kids. I laugh silently. My kids. Never in a million years would I have thought I'd have kids.

Even though they are frustrating little brats sometimes, I wouldn't change it for the world. I draw in a slow breath as I walk around my desk, my fingers brushing against the stacked papers. It seems a lifetime ago that I was sitting here, marking the latest dismal exams. So much has happened since then.

"Professor Snape?" a voice softly says from the doorway.

I glance over and see Draco hovering.

"Mister Malfoy." He glances down instantly, and I wince inwardly. I shouldn't have used his surname in hindsight after last night. "How can I be of assistance?"

"I'm sorry, sir." He lifts his head back up, holding my gaze. "I shouldn't have acted like a prat with you last night." He then sighs. "Of course you wouldn't intentionally hurt her like that. I, I shouldn't have said what I did."

"Apology not accepted," I respond coolly.

"What?" He seems genuinely confused by my refusal.

"You meant every word you said, Draco, and you were right to tell me off as you did. I am the one who should apologize."

"But you didn't—"

"Regardless of my intent, it doesn't excuse my actions. I am the adult, and as such I should have not acted like the child I did."

"Yeah, but I acted like you were Lucius, and you're not."

"Thank you," I say, inclining my head towards him.

He sighs quietly, his hands going to his pockets. He clearly has prepared a long speech, and I've unfortunately just took all of the wind out of his sails. I wait for him to collect himself, knowing that is what he needs me to do. He is so like Harry sometimes it's frightening.

"Jezlyn claims that I have father issues."

Now it's my turn to sigh. "Yes, well, Miss Sinistra has issues of sticking her nose in things she shouldn't. I wouldn't hold much stock in what she says."

"Then you don't think I should talk to Madam Pomfrey?" he asks with furrowed brows.

"I think only you can decide that, Draco, not me."

His shoulders sag, and his head falls to the floor. "I wanted you to tell me to do this, sir."

"Why?"

Slowly, his head comes back up. "So, I can't take any responsibility for it. If it doesn't work, then I can just say that you didn't know what you were saying or something, and that it was mad to think such a thing about me."

"Ah." I appreciate his honesty.

"But I can't use that excuse."

"Why do you believe it won't work?"

His gray eyes dart to mine. "Honestly, sir? You have to ask that?" He then huffs, a hand going to his long blond hair. "I'm not one to talk about such things. It's, well, difficult."

"If it weren't, then no one would have issues to work through. But ignoring them—"

"But you brushed yours aside for decades."

"Yes, and look how well that turned out for me, Draco," I answer flatly. His shoulders sag again. "You can continue to brush them aside as you've been doing. But there will be these moments, like last night, when it will bubble up to the surface again."

"I know."

"And quite frankly, it takes a strong man to admit he needs help and seek it rather than ignore it. So, if you want me to absolve you, well, I'm afraid I cannot do that. I will not do that."

He nods slowly. "I had a feeling you'd say that, sir." He then offers a soft smile before he squares his shoulders up, ready to conquer his demons. "Thank you, sir." He then turns and leaves.

Normally I'd have been getting ready for this silly ball, but instead I'm replenishing the entire stock of Pomfrey's Pepperup Potion since she has absolutely no idea on how to ration it. It's utterly maddening how much of this we go through in a year. Foolish little brats should just learn good hygiene practices in my opinion.

As I stir the potion again, I hear a knock against my door. It can't be Aurora, as she's in her office currently marking papers. I cast a quick stasis charm on my potion and unlock the door nonverbally. When I see a blond head stick in, I snort.

"Yes?"

"Daddy, can you help me?"

I incline my head and walk towards my daughter. She opens the door the rest of the way then, and I stop in mid-step. She's wearing a long white dress with a bit of green cloth hanging down her right side. In her hands is an ivy wreath headband with one large white calla lily on one side of it. She most certainly was not wearing that when I got her ready for bed earlier.

"Angel, where did you get the dress?"

She grins before she twirls around. "Do you like it, Daddy? Aunt Jezlyn gave it to me."

"Aunt Jezlyn?" I repeat quietly. Oh, that girl . . .

"Uh-huh. She said I could wear it to the ball tonight."

"The ball?"

She nods again with a wide grin. "She says every princess needs a pretty dress. I look pretty, right, Daddy?"

"Absolutely beautiful, my Angel," I say, forcing my smile to keep from saying what I'm really thinking. When I get my hands on Jezlyn, she's going to wish we weren't related by marriage.

My little girl lets out a high-pitched squeal and claps her hands. She's so happy. I almost feel like a git for my next action, but it has to be done. She's too young for balls and such.

"Do you think Fred is gonna like it?" she asks suddenly.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but—" Her face falls instantly. "You can't go to the ball."

"But, Daddy!"

"No, Angel. You're too young."

She stomps her foot down, glaring at me. "It isn't fair! Harry and Draco are going!"

"Well, they're old enough, my Angel. You're not."

The wheels instantly start spinning in her mind as she thinks about what I said. "Well, how old do I have to be to go? Six?"

I wince. "Seventeen at least," I reply, "and that's a long time from now thankfully."

"But I want to go to the ball now!" She stomps her foot down again.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but my answer is no. Maybe when you're older." And even then, only if I meet the wizard first and he is worthy of her . . . and Declan or Esmée watching her and at the ready to swoop in and take her away.

"You're mean, Daddy! The meanest daddy there ever is!" She continues stomping her feet in full tantrum mode now. "You're lettin' Harry go even though he's in the forest right now with Luna!"

I blink and stare at her. What?

"And that's not fair! We're not s'posed to be out there. It's bad and scary, and we could get hurt. And he gets to go! It's not fair! I was good! I didn't come in here or nothin'. And he gets to go!"

"Sweetheart, what do you mean your brother is out in the forest?"

"He's out there. In the scary forest. The one Grandpa doesn't want us in."

My head snaps towards the window. Harry's in the Forbidden Forest? I ignore the fact that my four-year-old somehow knows this. I'll deal with that later. All thoughts earlier about her wanting to go to the ball are gone now. All I can think about is how my son is out in the Forbidden forest. That idiot boy is going to kill me one of these days with his foolheartedly stunts. I gently prod her towards the door, locking my lab once we exit it.

"Draco, watch your sister please," I bark as I go past his opened door. He's changing yet again.

"But, Daddy!" Angel cries behind me. I'm already down the hallway, though, and almost gone.

It's absurd to think, but somehow Harry managed to escape before I could reach him. I can only assume that Luna helped him somehow considering how close they seem to be tonight. I still haven't figured out how exactly he was able to avoid me.

"Oh, will you just give it a rest already, Severus?" Aurora drawls, her hand moving up to cup the side of my face. "You can ground him tomorrow, but right now your wife would like your undevoted attention. Got it?"

"Yes, dear," I reply mockingly. I half-smirk when she rolls her eyes. I spin her out first and then spin her back into me. I must say there is certain appeal to having her so close to me right now. When she leans back against me for what seems the hundredth time already tonight, I think of potion ingredients I need to keep from losing control and yanking her to the nearest alcove. She is enjoying this entirely too much. In fact, judging by the liberal amount of perfume I can smell from her, she wants to see me squirm like the rest of the titillated adolescents around us.

"All right there, Severus?" she asks, her eyes twinkling as she stares up at me.

I glance down at her and only raise an eyebrow. The cheeky minx will not get the better of me tonight. I will remain perfectly in control, and she will not win. No matter how badly she cheats and tries to rattle me.

"Perfectly peachy," I reply, my hand moving to the small of her back as we sway.

She laughs in response and steps closer to me, resting her head briefly against my shoulder. With a silent, content sigh, I feel myself start to relax a bit more against her. She is right after all. I can ground the boy tomorrow. Not that I have proof that he was actually out in the Forbidden Forest, but I don't need proof really. I just need the boy to know that I won't tolerate rule breaking. Which he knows.

My eyes narrow briefly as I notice the young lady with Fred Weasley across the way speaking with Draco and Hermione. I move to turn to Aurora and ask her if she knows who the young lady is, but I lose my footing. Pulling Aurora into me protectively, we fall back against the dessert table, my back slamming hard into it.

I hear the crack as the table can't support our weight, and we crash to the floor. Cakes and cupcakes of every flavor imaginable cascades onto us, along with every other dessert known to man. I groan and try to push myself up, tasting sickly sweet frosting on my lips.

Aurora's quiet giggles then enters my ears. My arms are still wrapped securely around her, so I can feel her laughter as her head is buried in my dress robes. As she pulls back, I notice the chunks of white and green sprinkles in her hair.

"You look ridiculous," she says through fits of laughter.

"I look ridiculous?" I repeat, staring up at her. "You should see yourself, Sinistra. You're not exactly one to look at right now either." Merlin, she's so beautiful right now.

She pokes her finger into my chest. "Says the man wearing red butter cream frosting."

Oh, beautiful minx, she has no idea how much in trouble she is. I reach back and grab a bit of the destroyed chocolate lava cake beside me. Raising a brow at her, I take the bit I have and smear into her face a moment later. After all, two can play that game.

When I realize a moment later that she's not going down without a fight, I duck just as she tosses globs of frosting and cake from her side at me. I grab another handful and lob it back at her. Her laughter serenades me. It's as if we've forgotten entirely about the rest of the world. Love does that to a person, though.

A groan escapes my lips when she moves in order to get a better position on me. She's almost straddling me now, even though, she still throwing bits of destroyed desserts at me. We're covered head-to-toe in cakes and cupcakes and sprinkles and chocolate. Her eyes light up when she hears my groan, and I can feel the surge of excitement in her through our link. I move to capture her lips just as she shoves bits of something cold down the front of my robes.

"Fuck!" I shout, hearing someone yell 'Six hundred points from Slytherin' from across the room in response. Fuck them and their points! That—gah! Fuck, that's cold!

Aurora is nearly doubled over laughing as I'm trying desperately to remove whatever it is she stuffed down my robes. Suddenly, the cold is gone, and I blink in confusion before we're blasted apart from one another. I notice her confusion instantly and grab my wand, ready to defend us to the death. However, when I see a familiar nine-and-a-half inches, fir wand two inches from my face, I lower mine instantly and wince. This isn't going to be good.

"Never before in all my years of teaching—Severus Snape." The way my name is said in that thick, brusque Scottish accent I can't help but wince. "And you, Aurora!" I glance at my wife and notice her trying and failing to hide her laughter. "There is nothing funny about this I assure you, Miss Sinistra!" The snort bursts out of me before I can hold it back. When McGonagall's wand snaps back to me, I instantly sober up. However, I'm having a very difficult time clearing my mind I find. "Well, what do you have to say for yourselves?"

I glance to Aurora. The corner of her lips twitch slightly, and I raise my brow even more intrigued by her.

"Cake, Minerva?" my wife says with a wide grin, holding up a bit of it that she hadn't had a chance to throw at me yet.

"Detention. Both of you!" McGonagall snaps in reply.

"Um, Minerva, I don't think you can give them—" Filius speaks up for us.

"Watch me!" Her eyes flash dangerously as she glares at us. "I want this hall sparkly clean by morning. No magic is to be used by either of you. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Professor." Both Aurora and I reply glancing down.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" She then whirls around to all the students who are looking on. I notice vaguely that neither of our sons or their dates are in the crowd. No doubt they ran as fast as they could. "You're all dismissed!" McGonagall yells, pointing towards the doors. "Return to your common rooms now!" None of them need to be told twice, as they all run fleeing.

Once we're alone, I glance at Aurora and smirk.

"I've never had detention with my husband before," she drawls, moving back to me.

I roll my eyes and shake my head. "It's going to take us all night to clean this, you realize?"

She shrugs before snapping her fingers. My eyes narrow on her until I notice a movement to my left. My head turns towards it, and I notice the two familiar vampires approaching from the shadows. Esmée and Declan are here?

"But she said no magic, Aurora," I remind, turning back to her.

"She did, but she also can't give us detention, love. We're not students after all. Now, dock our pay or suspend us she can do, but not give us detention."

"She'll know."

"So?" she replies with a lopsided grin.

"Are you truly advocating us to disobey the deputy headmistress?" It sounds so . . . Slytherin of her. I stare at her in wonder. Who is this woman and what has she done with my wife?

"And technically, we're not disobeying her, as she only said that she wanted this place sparkly and that we couldn't use magic. She didn't say that someone else couldn't get it sparkly clean."

My brow raises even more. "How . . . Slytherin of you."

She shrugs. "I have my moments."

"Awe. How adorable," Esmée murmurs, her hands clasped as she stares at us.

"Come along, Esmée," Declan replies, rolling his eyes. "Let us allow Mistress Aurora and Severus some privacy."

I open my mouth to state that isn't necessary, but the vampires blur before I have a chance. Almost instantly, the Great Hall starts to look its usual splendor as they use their superhuman speed to remove the food from the walls and floor.

"Come on," Aurora says, grabbing my arm.

"But . . ."

"Go!" Declan's voice echoes around me. "We have this under control."

"Yes. Go." Esmée's airy voice floats down to us. "Make more little ones for us!"

What? My head snaps towards the blurs, but Aurora yanks me towards the door. I stumble slightly, but follow obediently. A part of me feels guilty for not doing as Minerva ordered. We should have cleaned it, seeing as how we made that mess. The bigger part of me, though, agrees with Aurora. Minerva can't give us detentions. She's our boss, not our teacher.

As we work our way down to our rooms in the dungeons, I find myself thinking how much my life has changed over the past few years. It all started with a green-eyed, messy-haired Gryffindor showing up in the middle of a thunderstorm looking as if Death had greeted him. It'll end in a way I never thought would be possible. Me . . . a family of my own . . . loved.

We walk through Salazar's portrait when he opens it, my hand still in Aurora's.

Normalcy. That's all we've wanted lately. To be a normal family. But what does that mean honestly? To be a normal family? Is there such a thing?

When the portrait reopens, I glance to it and watch Harry walk in. I can still see the lipstick smears he's tried to remove. I chuckle softly. The-Boy-Who-Loved.

"What?" he says, glancing at both of us. "Is something on my face?"

"Only bits of Luna's lipstick," Aurora teases. "But you can hardly see them, love."

He groans and scrubs at his face again with the back of his sleeve. "I thought I got it all. It just, ugh, what did she use? It won't come off," he complains, rubbing his face.

"That's because you're rubbing it all wrong there, little brother," Draco drawls as he emerges from his bedroom with a blushing and guilty looking Miss Granger in tow. "There's a bit of a trick to it, you see? Dab a bit of—"

"Miss Granger?" I interrupt, noticing that Aurora is also staring at the young lady.

Hermione grimaces and forces her eyes to meet mine. "We can explain, sir—"

"Nothing happened, Severus," Draco cuts in, grabbing her hand beside him. "I swear."

The portrait then opens up again. My eyes narrow, wondering who it could be as everyone who is allowed inside without a password is already in here.

"Oh, hello, Daddy," says the golden-haired blond with a wide smile and familiar dark eyes. "You're still here." She then twirls around again, the exact same way my four-year-old daughter had hours earlier. "This dress is much prettier. Fred liked it after all."

As the realization hits me that this, this teenage girl is . . . is my daughter, I . . . My eyes then fall to her hand and the empty bottle she's holding.

"Sort of yucky tasting, but . . . it worked. Don't you think, Daddy?"

"Whoa! That's . . . but . . ." Harry cries in front of me, staring at the young lady. "El?"

"Who else?" she says with a laugh.

"How . . . Severus . . ." Aurora grabs my arm, as we both stare.

"An aging potion obviously," I murmur, unable to think. There are so many questions. I can't even think to ask them right now. My little girl . . . she's . . .

"Wicked," Draco drawls by us, taking a step closer to her. "Where'd you get the potion, Celes?"

"Draco," Hermione snaps, giving him the all-too familiar female look of 'Shut your mouth.'

"Fred," Angel replies, placing the empty bottle in my hand. "Said he had a very good teacher." She leans up and kisses my cheek. "Love you, Daddy." She then takes another step towards Aurora, starting to shrink as the potion quickly wears off.

When a moment later my four-year-old is standing before us in an extremely large dress, I feel my heart start to quiet in my ears. She drank a potion to make herself older just so she could go with Weasley after I told her no? She snuck out—

"A rule-breaker already, I'm impressed, Celes." Draco is slapped hard in the chest for that by Miss Granger. "What? It's not like Harry and I are angels after all."

"Or Mum and Dad for that matter," Harry adds with a quiet laugh.

"Boys," Hermione hisses at them.

My sons, however, instantly start to roar with snickers. I open my mouth to ground them both back to the stone age, but a hand on mine stops me. I glance at Aurora and notice her smile.

"That'll be all tonight, Miss Granger," she states softly. "Return to your common room."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione replies respectfully before she leaves.

"Aurora . . ."

"They're right, Severus. Every one of us has broken rules in some form or the other."

Well, of course we have. But that doesn't make it right after all. There needs to be clear rules. And they've shattered them royally. One son sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest. Another son with a young lady in his room. And a daughter, a daughter who . . . I can't even finish it.

"Daddy, Fred was good," my daughter declares in her usual high squeal child-like voice.

"Well, thank Merlin for that, or a certain Weasley would find himself in a very large ditch," I drawl, half-joking. A very small joke. Like a pinprick small.

Angel giggles instantly, though. "That's cause you love me, Daddy."

I kneel down to her again, feeling her arms wrap around my neck as she hugs me.

"Cheeky brat," I grumble, returning her hug. She has me wrapped around her little finger. Just like her mother. Clearly, I'll need to brush up on my stern father routine again, but quite frankly I just don't have it in me right now.

"Your brat."

Indeed.

I chuckle and shake my head. Normalcy is overrated. It hides the moments that otherwise would be forgotten. This . . . this is everything. Love is everything. And family is all the rest.