Snapey Went A Courting

Snapey Went A Courting

It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don’t recognize.


Epilogue – The Wind Beneath My Wings.


Madam Pomfrey came through the floo to Snape Manor. Her ears were immediately assaulted by the cries of five-month-old Waldo, who was being held and comforted by the house elf. Pomfrey gawked. The notorious house elf, she corrected herself. The Wizarding World had gone into shock when Hermione Granger had missed the press conference announcing her running for MOM in order to be in attendance to a dying house elf. There had been cries of outrage and much fun was poked over the idea of anyone taking that sort of time or concern over one of the magical creatures. It had gained her a huge amount of publicity, both negative and positive. Amazingly, the house elf had pulled through. And, still looking quite tragic with its drooping left ear and eye, Teaseh had become a symbol for the sheer quixotic pluckiness of the Granger campaign.

Pomfrey took the babe from the elf, gave it a cursory examination and handed it back.

“Colic! I wasn’t brought all the way here for a case of colic, was I?” she muttered in annoyance.

The house elf trembled and in a tiny voice replied, “No, Ma’am, It’s Ms. Gee, Ma’am. Master Severus had Teaseh send the owl. Ms. Gee won’t stop crying.”

Pomfrey became even more exasperated. “Well, give that boy some gripe water immediately.” Pomfrey took the stairs two at a time, talking to herself, “idiotic elf”, and quickly located the bedroom by the sound of a woman crying.

“Thank Merlin you came. She won’t stop.” Snape met her outside the room.

Pomfrey was taken aback by Snape’s appearance that was, in a word, awful. It was obvious from the thick stubble on his face and the rankness of his robes that he hadn’t taken care of his personal hygiene in several days. His hair, grown longer than ever, was escaping its tie and his eyes were blood shot with dark circles under them.

“What have you been doing to yourself, Severus?” She tsk’ed. “You were in better shape when we were all fighting who-know-who. Let me take a look at you.”

“No, it’s Hermione you need to attend to.” He pointed through the open door to the wailing lump in the bed.

“I know what’s wrong with her. I’m much more concerned about you. Have you lost your intelligence, your common sense? Of course she’s upset. It’s a simple case of nervous exhaustion. She lost her bid for Minister of Magic. And Hermione Granger is not used to losing. So she’s having a fit. Severus, you were head of Slytherin for almost two decades. You’ve seen girls wind themselves up before.”

Snape was chagrinned. “You can’t do anything for her?”

“What did you usually do for the girls in your house? The sensitive ones after O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s?”

“I sent them to you.”

“Where I gave them either Pepper Up or Dreamless Sleep and sent them back after a rest.”

“So she needs Pepper Up.” Snape looked vague.

“Sit down, Severus.” Pomfrey pointed to a ramshackle chair in the hallway. “When was the last time you slept? When did you eat last?”

He waved his hand as if to dismiss her concerns. “It’s Hermione that’s important.”

“IF that were the case, then I’d think you’d be taking better care of yourself, so you could at least look after her.” She squinted at him. “It’s true, then. You’ve gone soft. And not just in the waistline either.” She poked her finger at the spare tire bulging around his belly through his robes.

“Poppy?”

“McGonagall was telling me just the other day how you’ve let yourself go. And I see it. You are making an old fool out of yourself over her. Take my advice; stop worrying about Hermione and your son. They are doing fine. You need to get on with your life. So you aren’t teaching anymore, you can still make yourself useful. McGonagall and I were discussing how many students are winding up in the infirmary courtesy of your replacement.”

“Malfoy? I don’t care about Hogwarts anymore. Hermione’s upset.”

“Listen to me. All she needs is someone to take a firm hand with her and make her get some rest and relaxation. You, on the other hand, need to find yourself. You are not Mr. Granger as the newspapers are so fond of calling you. You are Severus Snape!”

“So she needs some Dreamless Sleep Potion?” You You aren’t listening.” She turned and left in disgust.

Snape put his head in his hands. He had been listening; he just didn’t want to hear it. He’d worked as hard on the campaign as Hermione did, getting completely caught up in the thrill of politics, especially in the enjoyment of his behind the scenes campaigning. It was all so completely Slytherin. And it had all been for naught. He’d felt as devastated as his… significant other did. Significant Other! What a Muggle term!

He got up slowly and headed for the bath. He would clean himself up-- for her. And then take a firm hand as Poppy had suggested. The thought created a bit of firmness elsewhere. He pulled himself up, in spite of his exhaustion. Time to start anew.

Although Hermione felt she was being idiotic, she was in a cycle she could not break out of.

Failure! She had failed. Yet, she had never failed at anything in her life. And she’d failed all those people who had put their faith in her. And why? Was it because she had refused Achlys’ offer? How poor little Teaseh had suffered because she’d rescued her mistress! And then Severus—Oh, he’d worked harder than them all put together! She didn’t fully understand how he’d persuaded so many pure bloods to throw in their lot with the Sociably Green Labor party, but he had. And her mother had put aside her dental practice to come take care of Waldo while Hermione was busy taking care of Teaseh.

For months, her life had all been a nonstop whirlwind of activity. But now it was over—and she couldn’t crawl out from under her feeling that she had failed them all. Even worse, she had failed as a mother in the process. She had missed Waldo’s first smile, and the first time he’d turned over and when he’d gotten his first tooth…

Hermione began to sob afresh. Suddenly the sheet was pulled off of her and she was scooped up into a strong pair of fresh smelling arms. She buried her nose into his chest, enjoying the sensation of the tickle of his chest hair.

“Hermione. Enough tears.”

She felt his deep voice resonate in his chest against her face. She knew she looked a sight and was ashamed to meet his eyes.

He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to him.

“It’s over. And it was one of the cleanest and best-run campaigns the Wizarding World has ever seen. You did a good job. Now let it go!”

Another sob wracked her body, “No.”

“Listen here, foolish girl,” Severus searched for and found his old teaching voice. “Stop being absurd! No one ever thought you were actually going to win. You are nineteen years old. This was merely to cut your teeth on. And you did an admirable job. The next time—“

“Nooooo!”

“The next time, and yes, you will run again-- People will know you and remember you. The debates you had with Weasley were quite competent. Now stop your whining.”

She took breath for another bout of tears only to find his mouth over hers. At first her body protested, and then-- she wrapped herself around him like a drowning woman. With fierce need, she discovered that he was quite naked and there was a present for her in his lap. She put her hand on his cock and felt its solidity. And she felt something else, something she thought she’d never feel again-- joy!

All was not lost: in fact, it was all just a beginning. She took her mouth from his and kissed down his throat to his chest, all the time stroking him. Then her mouth was on his stomach, and still she traveled lower to where her hand held him. She put her mouth hungrily on his cock, smelling traces of lavender and sage soap. The curls at its base were still damp from his shower. Her hand cupped his heavy sac and she purred deep in her throat.

Severus groaned and threaded his fingers through her hair. Her intensity was bringing him very close and he had to stop her before he came in her mouth.

Gently he laid her down and kissed her as he brought his hand to her mound. His fingers entered her and found her to be incredibly wet. He used his thumb on her clit and his fingers slowly pumped in and out. He had to give himself a few minutes to calm down or he feared he’d spend too soon. He admitted to himself that his lingering fear of not holding out long enough was quite irrational. He hadn’t had that problem since the night where Vector—he quickly changed his train of thought. He still found the Arithmancy professor quite repulsive. He lightly nipped Hermione’s neck and was pleased when she began pulling at his hips to bring him over her. Though there was still urgency to her movements, she seemed to have calmed down and become more focused.

Following an impulse, he got up and put some pillows against the headboard. He leaned back on them, and reached out for his love. She smiled and sat on his lap, wrapping her legs around him. She rocked against his cock, pressing it against her nub with her hand. Then she kissed him on the mouth and thrust her tongue into him, while raising her hips to place him inside of her.

He took her hips in his hands and they joined together. He was deeply imbedded in her and he gasped out her name. She wiggled and he gave a hard thrust upwards in response. Their eyes locked together and then they began rocking back and forth.

She closed her eyes, feeling him move against the deepest part of her over and over. Small animal like sounds escaped her throat as her orgasm began to build. Her need for him was so intense that she was almost afraid of it and she fought letting go. She wanted to just let it swell in her forever. Too soon, it crashed over her and she felt herself swept away in a sheer, blinding whiteness.

Snape felt her tighten over him and slowed himself, not wanting to give way on her first climax. But then, even after her final aftershock, her internal muscles continued to stoke him. She smiled at him mischievously, daring him to not come. He tried to hold back, but his breath shortened and he felt the beginnings of lost control. Picking her up and throwing her beneath him, he brought her knees up and over his shoulders and then thrust into her over and over.

She cried out in her desire and still he continued. Her hands clawed his back and sides as she arched into another orgasm.

Snape planned to keep going, was determined to not stop until she screamed for mercy, but his own body chose that moment to convulse. Sobbing, he gave way and spent into her.

Entwined and drenched in sweat, they held onto each other, satisfied and at peace for the first time in what seemed to be months. She started giggling and he was too tired to go on red alert over her behavior.

Kissing him on the nose, she said, “I needed that.”

He held her tight to him. “So did I.”

“You know, it all does seem rather silly, now. After all, Arthur did appoint me as the new Department Head for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I couldn’t ask for a better placement.”

Snape touched his forehead to hers, “Yes… You are perfect for the position.” He sighed contentedly, stretched out and rested her head on his chest. “And you know, I think I might write a book.”

“Oh? What will it be about?”

“Hmm, this and that.” He smiled mysteriously.


&&&

Headmaster Dumbledore’s heart was racing. He’d faced down evil wizards, twice now in his lifetime, but nothing was quite as terrifying as the woman before him. He fumbled for his lemon drops and silently cursed.

“I must thank you Headmaster for seeing me on such short notice and after sundown.” Madam Ivy Tick (formerly Ivy Donleavy, Ravenclaw ’85) smiled, revealing bloodstains still apparent on her fanged teeth.

“Not at all, not at all.” Dumbledore noticed that there was a tremor in his right hand. He remembered Ivy all too well, from when she was alive. One of the brightest and best Hogwarts had produced-- Another Hermione Granger really. It was tragic. What was wrong with this world? One of them becoming a vampire and the other—politics; he felt tired. Perhaps it had been a mistake, returning to Hogwarts after the summer break. Perhaps he should have stayed in Japan. He pulled fretfully on his long, white beard.

“As you know, my great, great grandfather-in-law created the original contract upon which all the contracts currently used for the professors at Hogwarts are based.”

“He was rather before my time.” Dumbledore attempted a small smile.

Again, Madam Tick flashed her blood tinged grin. “Well, that might be the explanation for why my client, one Severus Snape, was treated so badly.” She stood up forgetting, or perhaps not forgetting, that she was not in a court of law.

“Professor Snape broke the rules. Fraternization with a student—“

“With an alumni—“

“Is an offense—“

“Which results in early retirement, not dismissal.” Madam Tick thumped her hand on the Headmaster’s desk. Several of the paintings tut-tutted in annoyance at her forwardness before settling down to stalwartedly ignoring her.

“What are you telling me?”

“That you owe my client an apology and his pension.”

Dumbledore pulled the contract out of the top drawer of his desk. It was a thick, heavy scroll. He admitted to himself that he should have re-read it at the time he sacked Snape. But it was clear from his own years as a professor that… Dumbledore stopped as he came to the paragraph. He had indeed been wrong. He used a spell that allowed him to see the itsy-bitsy print quite clearly and it stated under the Seduction of Recent Alumni clause: Early retirement with full benefits.

“But, but,” he spluttered, “that is no punishment at all.”

“Quite.” She tapped her finger on the scroll. “It was a reward for libidinous professors keeping it in their robes until the student graduated. My dear relative on my husband’s side was called upon to create a way of encouraging professors to allow their students to complete their studies. Extra incentive you might call it. A classic carrot, for those wthe the stick might be insufficient.”

Dumbledore was fuming, but tamped it down. There was nothing he could do. “I will contact Gringotts in the morning. So if there is nothing else?”

The Vampire continued to smile. Dumbledore noted that the smile never reached her red-rimmed eyes.

“Actually, there is. It has been brought to my client’s attention that his replacement has not been quite, what shall we say, up to the requirements of his new job?” She opened her portfolio and brought out two leather bound notebooks. “Out of the generosity of his heart, Professor Snape has written up notes useful for Fifth and Seventh years facing their exams.”

A fire lit up in Dumbledore’s eyes as he quickly reached across the desk for the two books. Her reflexes were lightening fast as she scooped the materials from his reach.

“How much?”

She nodded slowly, “Actually there is more. These notebooks are only the prelude to a series of textbooks, Professor Snape’s Tried and True Potion Experiments for the Classroom. There are seven books to be published, one a year for seven years, not including these special teacher’s notes which I have already shown you-- those would be yours immediately. In addition, he has planned another series of textbooks, Study Plan for Defense Against the Dark Arts which he shall be releasing one a year for the next seven years after the potions series is complete.”

Dumbledore went pale. The muscle at the side of his mouth ticked.

“How much?”

Madam Tick produced a folded piece of foolscap and opened it to display a large number written on it. Dumbledore read it, “Ludicrous, ridiculous, preposterous. This is highway robbery, Madam.”

“Oh, no. Considering that my client does not wish the moneys as a lump sum, but rather in installments spread out over the period of 14 years, I do believe he has been gone quite easy on you.”

“I decline your offer.”

“Ah, but you have not yet seen the pièce de résistance.” Madam Tick’s incisors seemed to grow longer. Her lips curled back and her pink tongue flicked the front of her teeth removing all previous traces of blood. She produced and set upon the table a thick diary. “Professor Snape has kindly decided to sweeten the pot by the addition of his autobiographic work, ‘My life at Hogwarts: a Nightmare in Twenty-eight Chapters.’ Quite delicious reading, I found I could not put it down for the life of me!” She chuckled at her bit of death humor. “Ah, yes. Professor Snape is quite droll in his writing. Listen, you can almost hear the skeletons rattle in their closets.” She put the book to her ear and shook it for effect.

“I especially commend the Fifth Chapter to you: ‘How I was nearly eaten by a Werewolf’. I cried in sympathy for poor Severus Snape’s terror. And Chapter Seven was heartrending wherein he tells of how the Head of Slytherin himself recruited my client as a young man to be a Death Eater. And of course, there is Chapter Twenty-three wherein it is decided to allow Harry to--”

The room spun about him. “Blackmail, Madam,” he roared.

“Oh, no. Not at all. If you wish, we can have it up at public auction. We were simply giving you first crack at it all.” She picked up the scrap of foolscap. “As you may well imagine, at auction we should easily get double, why even treble, this amount.”

“This will destroy Hogwarts.”

“Well, then. It is a small price to pay.” She brought out a contract. “Just sign at the dotted line. It will be binding of course on all future Headmasters of Hogwarts as well.”

He took the scroll and began to read it. “Say, what is this? Resignation effective upon signature?”

“Oh, I had almost forgotten. It will be your last act as Headmaster. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall is to take your place. Thank you for the reminder.” She didn’t smile this time. Her body went as still as the crypt as she sat and watched Dumbledore dip his quill in ink and sign. “Nicely done, Professor Dumbledore. Nicely done.” She stood up and took the parchment. She left the two books of potions notes and the autobiography on Dumbledore’s desk and quickly, silently left.

Dumbledore waited a few minutes and then went and threw floo powder into the fireplace.

“Minerva, please come to my office. I have some news for you.”

&&&

‘Snapes’ (call me anything else and find out what a hex really feels like) Waldo Saccius Snape-Granger sat on a stone bench in the gardens behind Snape Manor. He was zapping the dried pods of various magical weeds, scattering their seeds all over. He was doing it as wandless magic and savoring his last few days of freedom.

His father came up behind him, “Snapey, you know that Cauffeeseh will be unhappy about all the extra weeds.”

“House elves live to work, so I’m doing him a favor. And it’s not Snapey, anymore. I changed it again. Call me Snapes. Snapey sound too babyish.”

“Snapes.” Snape snorted. “And last week it was Snapers.”

“Can’t use that one, rhymes with capers, as in those nasty things they give you with sandwiches.”

“Or dancing?” Snape sat down and stretched out his legs. He looked rather good with his long, black hair put into a braid. He was wearing new robes of forest green shot through with golden threads. “Well, at least you aren’t getting into trouble.”

“No, sir.”

“Right, well… We need to have a little chat.”

Just then Hermione came up. Her hair had had two whole bottles of Sleekeasy and the best of Teaseh’s hair tamer spells. It had been controlled within an inch of its life. She sat down on the other side of her son.

“Well, what do you think?” She displayed her new robes, made of the same material as Snape’s robbut but cut much more elegantly.

“That you look lovely.” Snape nudged his son. “Tell, your Mum how lovely she looks.”

Snapes sneered. “I’m running away to be with Grandpa and the Faerie.”

“Waldo!”

“Saccius!”

“It’s Snapes. Both of you. I can’t stand this. All right! I know the drill you didn’t have to come all the way out to remind me.”

He stood at attention, facing them, and began to recite, “I will not refer to my brother as the third coming of Voldemort, nor will I call him Tom Riddle Junior or Tommy Junior. I will not tell anyone that my two sisters or brother were adopted nor say that they were accidentally switched at St. Mungos, especially since I did attend the home birth of all three sibs.” He took a deep, petulant breath. “I will be polite to the Lupin cubs and make no reference to Peter and the Wolf, the Three Little Pigs or Red Riding Hood. I shall not tease the Potter twins. Nor will I tell any of the Weasley kids that their Granddad is a tosser and that he was only Minister of Magic because people felt sorry about his wife’s hooves. Did I miss anything?”

Hermione couldn’t help but notice how tall her son had grown. Next week he’d be eleven and next month he’d be a first year in Hogwarts. He was a patchwork of traits from both families, just as their other children were. He had her father’s height and broad shoulders and John Snape’s blue eyes and auburn hair. He had the personality of the Papakonstantinakopoulos, high strung yet able to charm the birds out of the sky when it suited him. Fortunately, his nose, though large and hooked, only added character to what might have been a too pretty face.

Hermione stood up and hugged her first born. “That was smashing. I know you will present a fine example throughout the day.”

“Mum, you’re embarrassing me.” He pulled away from her.

Snape growled. “Let your Mum hug you as much as she wants now.”

“Yes, sir. But it isn’t fair. It’s bad enough that Mum’s finally Minister of Magic, but now you have to go and get wedded. I’m not ashamed of being a bastard. I’m not ashamed of my brother and sisters being bastards. So why are you doing this? Just because you finally got elected?” His large hands formed fists and his fury shone brightly.

Snape wondered if he was ever that angry and rebellious. No, of course not. It must be from Hermione’s side. His jaw still clicked from where his soon to be Father-in-law had hit him all those years ago.

Hermione looked to her significant other and then back to her son. “I made a promise to your father years ago. This is a special day because I am finally going to make good on that promise. Please, don’t ruin it.”

“Everyone at Hogwarts is going to tease me. Just like they teased Dad. I’m not afraid, though. I’ll fight them all. No one is going to call me anything but what I want.”

“That’s right,” Snape again swore he’d make Lupin pay for letting it slip about Snape’s less than illustrious schooldays. “You just stand up for yourself.”

“Sacci?”

The three family members whirled as nine-year-old Junius Snape-Granger came up. Snapes quickly walked over to his brother, and took his hand. “What is it, oh Dark Lord?” He said, kneeling in mock tribute.

The blond haired, black-eyed boy giggled. “I lost my toad again. Will you help me find him?”

“Mum, Dad?”

“Lecture over.” Snape worked hard to keep a straight face. The two boys were inseparable and incorrigible-- Especially when it came to doing things most likely to upset other people.

“Don’t let your robes get dirty, either of you. Guests for the hand-fasting will be here shortly.” Hermione watched them scamper away.

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears. “Our baby is heading to school.”

Snape took Hermione in his arms and smirked, “Not soon enough.”

She gently hit him, “And did you tell him?”

“Didn’t have a chance. He’ll just have to find out when he gets to Hogwarts that I’m the new Headmaster.”

He leaned down and kissed her before she had a chance to protest. The kiss continued as Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and melted to his body.

“Ewww. They’re at it again,” said Cynthia, nudging her sister.

“Mum! Dad! Guests are arriving out front. Ugh,” said Lizbeth, imitating her older sister by making a face.

Snape broke off the kiss and glared at his two daughters, ages five and seven going on fifteen and seventeen. “That’s enough out of both of you.”

“Teaseh, told us to tell you. She’s too busy keeping them entertained to come find you and her son is off making sure the gardens are ready,” stated Cynthia, quite proud of her assignment as messenger girl.

Just then Lizbeth dived into the dirt of the garden bed. “Look, I caught Juni’s toad.”

Hermione smiled—hard so she wouldn’t scream. “Lizbeth, look at yourself. Your best robes.”

Lizbeth made an uh-oh face, “But I found Juni’s toad.”

&&&

It was probably the smallest hand fasting on record for a Minister of Magic. Yet as Hermione looked around, she knew keeping it small was the right decision. Under a canopy of flowers they stood and recited vows with only their closest friends in attendance: there were John and Suzette Snape; Ben Granger and his wife, Bridget; Arthur (not just Hermione’s political rival, but also the man who challenged and honed her political skills) and Molly (much recovered, except for the cloven hooves); Ron and his third wife, Becca, complete with their assorted children from his three marriages. And then there were Harry and Trini, Remus and Alicia with all their children, too. Like the hand fasting of Remus and Alicia, the ceremony was kept short and simple. But this time it was so that the children couldn’t all kill each other. And indeed it was a near thing with Junius getting into a fistfight with Sirius Potter over whether his mum, Hermione, had won the recent election merely out of a sympathy vote over the recent death of Old Tinkleberry.

Snape admired his new wife. His love for her and fatherhood had changed him to the point where he barely recognized in himself the surly and introverted Potions Professor of Hogwarts. Years of being romantically and socially linked to a politician had taught him to tolerate fools, idiots, muttonheads, mooncalves and all other sorts of moronic half-wits and cretins. But more than that, he’d learned to be happy. With each new child and each year that went by, he felt himself ease into a life he’d never dreamed of having.

Hermione bit her lip and worried. She was finally Minister of Magic. Arthur had done a good job, but she felt that she would do better. As much as Arthur loved all things Muggle, he was still a pure blood and was essentially handicapped by his lack of understanding of the Muggle World. Hermione, on the other hand, understood both worlds and was confident that she would be able to guide the Wizarding World into a new era of peace and prosperity.

However, over the summer, Headmistress McGonagall had developed a chronic illness and the Board of Directors of Hogwarts had asked Snape to become the new Headmaster of Hogwarts. Scandal forgotten, Snape, having written so many textbooks, was considered to be an authority on education. Hermione had been afraid to give him up to this new job. Still, he’d done so much for her over the years, that she wanted him to spread his wings, too. She worried about them both having demanding jobs, but took solace in the idea of their formalizing their union. Would it be enough? Who knew?

She admired his thin, sharp face and his body, which she worshiped with her own. She loved him with all her heart. She had loved him for over a decade and was willing to let him go do what he needed to do with his life, just as he had loved her enough to let her pursue her career. He caught her looking at him and he pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately.

It was then that she became quite certain--

Somehow, they’d Muggle through.


A/N: Again, big hugs and profuse thanks to all my reviewers: Spaz141, DeblovesDragon, LittleBird, Deb, Otherside and Innerfeline! This has been my longest SS/HG story to date. Your handholding has been much needed and appreciated!


Listen to “Wind Beneath My Wings” here:
http://www.stinalisa.com/Wind.html

\"Wind Beneath My Wings\" sung by Bette Midler
by Larry Henley and Jeff Silbar from \"Beaches\"

It must have been cold there in my shadow
To never have sunlight on your face
You were content to let me shine, that\'s your way
You always walked a step behind.

So I was the one with all the glory
While you were the one with all the strain
A beautiful face without a name for so long
A beautiful smile to hide the pain.

Did you ever know that you\'re my hero?
And everything I would like to be
I can fly higher than an eagle
For you are the wind beneath my wings.

It might have appeared to go unnoticed
But I\'ve got it all here in my heart
I want you to know I know the truth,
Of course I know it
I would be nothing without you.

Did you ever know that you\'re my hero?
You\'re everything I wish I could be
I could fly higher than an eagle
For you are the wind beneath my wings.

Did I ever tell you you\'re my hero?
You\'re everything, everything I wish I could be
Oh, and I, I could fly higher than an eagle
For you are the wind beneath my wings
Cause you are the wind beneath my wings.

Oh, the wind beneath my wings.
You, you, you, you are the wind beneath my wings
Fly, fly, fly away, you let me fly so high
Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings
Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings.

Fly, fly, fly high against the sky
So high I almost touch the sky
Thank you, thank you
Thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings.