Another Dark Star

Chapter 66

January 9th 2000, 10pm

Sadira Snape was tired. Tired but also very happy. The past few days had been hectic to say the least. Christmas that year had been mad, and then all her Muggle friends worrying about that Millennium bug business, whatever that had been. The only millennium bug she noticed had been the one she had mysteriously contracted on January first. Or had that been the Jägermeister she drank at Barbara’s party down the road?

She had just about recovered from that in time to throw two very special parties, one after the other. Hadrian was three now. Three and soon off to nursery. And Izzy not long behind him. Her babies weren’t babies anymore but children. Sad though it was, she was happy watching them grow in a world that would never again know a Dark Mark glittering in the sky. All because of someone very special, brave and dear. Someone whose 40th birthday banner she was taking down, while sneakily eating another slice of the special 40th cake. Someone who was upstairs, getting ready for bed. Her beloved Severus.

Forty years old today. She had feared they would not see this day at all once. And yet he had submitted to her party good-naturedly, and with as little grumbling as possible. It had been just the two o them and the children, but he hadn’t wanted anyone else there. “I have the only people I care about with me.” He had said, and smiled in that special way. She had no reason to argue.

Her family had sent gifts for the children, had kept in touch rather well in the last year actually. But January 9th was a date people still had no words for. They believed Severus to be dead still, and had no idea what words of comfort they could offer that wouldn’t seem trite, or a shallow lie.

Molly somehow managed to get her feelings across without even mentioning it though. She wrote every month or so, always with an offer of a place at the table any tome she wished to call, and with the latest news from home. Harry was engaged to Ginny now, and Ron getting very serious with Hermione. George had married a girl called Angelina he used to play Quidditch with, and Charlie was still living the bachelor life in Romania, much to his mother’s dismay. News of Percy’s engagement and subsequent marriage had been mentioned in the Prophet, since he’d been promoted to Shacklebolt’s secretary, and Molly had sent cuttings to everyone in the family; as if they weren’t all subscribers already.

The Malfoys, oddly enough, kept in touch also; once or twice a year. Lucius had returned to Azkaban but with a lenient sentence this time, and with the Dementors no longer in charge, hopefully he would fare better than last time. Narcissa was trying to keep a brave face, but Sadie could tell she was concerned for Draco’s future.

Leaving the final chores to Winky, Sadira put the banners away in a drawer and ascended the stairs for bed. Popping her head round the door of the nursery, she checked the children were sleeping soundly, smirking amusedly when she heard Hadrian’s tiny snores.

“Are you coming to bed or not?” Severus whispered in her ear, making her jump slightly.

She turned her head to find him smirking at her with even more amusement, as though she were a teen caught out after hours again. He was looking better now than he ever had. The injuries he has sustained were now all but healed, and the nightmares few and far between. One would almost say he was back to normal, but he was nothing like the rail thin, greasy sour faced man he had once been. Family had softened his hard edges, in more ways than one.

“I was just on my way, Love.” She replied, leaning forward into his embrace and snuggling against the soft fabric of his robe.

They walked together in that embrace to the bedroom, as they had done many evenings before, but tonight Severus had many things on his mind. While she had been faffing around doing whatever it was she had been doing downstairs, he had been waiting for her. Waiting and thinking. He had indulged her, as usual, with her party because she enjoyed them. This year, however, he was not sure what they were celebrating. Forty years old today. Forty. Four decades of life, and one decade short of a half century. Forty years, a milestone he thought he would not reach. Probably was not supposed to reach. He should have died in that shack, he thought. Should have died attempting to return to the Dark Lord when he returned. Should have died attempting to defect to the order. Should have died in that bloody shack as werewolf fodder. The fates had dangled death in front of him so many times and let him survive each time. Why?

He was nothing special to look at. No statesman with influence, nor one of the great and good. He was not a kind man or a particularly nice man. Just a bitter wizard who had become much too old much too soon, with considerable intelligence and a stubborn streak. But for some reason, he had been chosen to put his life on the lie for the good of all. He had been chosen to protect a clueless trouble magnet of a boy so he could be sent like a lamb to the slaughter against a monster. He had done his job and didn’t expect any reward for it. But he had received one nonetheless. A wife, children, a life away from the irritants and hardships he knew.

When he had been a young man, before life had destroyed the last vestiges of hope and joy within him, he had dared to dream of a life. Lily. He had imagined her as his wife, happy and golden, children at her knee. It had seemed so perfect. He would have an important job with influence and she would be proud of him. Those who had taunted him would be in awe of what he had become, and jealous of his beautiful and clever witch. Stupid of him really.

Lily had never loved him, and even if she had they would have been miserable. He could see that now without regret. She had been raised so differently. She was naïve and pure in her thoughts. Life as so black and white to her, all choices easy. She could not understand the shades of grey he existed in. To her, Dark magic was evil and wrong and those who studied it were too. No sympathy for the curious, or the wronged and hurting. Life in Lily-world was made of rainbows and sunshine and perhaps where she was now, she and Dumbledore were riding multicoloured unicorns underneath a peppermint sky that rained bloody sherbet lemons. Idealists.

He had Sadira now. She had suffered, been outcast and taunted. She had a hard childhood and made some difficult choices at a young age. She had felt the pull of Dark magic, and had rationalised the world around her to suit her purposes. She understood him. She had risked her very life to save his. Would anyone else ever have put themselves in danger for his sake? He didn’t think so. And she had given him more than her love, wondrous as it was. She had given him his pride and his joy; his children. Hadrian, such a quiet and clever boy. Isabella, such a joyful and beautiful girl.

He had hope; a new millennium ahead, another decade of life behind him. Life was good, and she was here beside him. He climbed into bed while she unbuttoned her blouse and unzipped her skirt. Her once trim, fit, Auror’s figure had softened with the strain of two children, and inaction. The soft slope of her hips and her rounded bosom had extra weight, but he found he enjoyed the feel of the softness under his hands. She had never been a waif like some of the other girls of her year; starving themselves and using illegal potions to fight against nature’s plans for their shape. Being too thin himself, he had never enjoyed looking at a woman whose bones protruded sharply under her dress. Welcoming softness that gave under his touches was what he desired, and he craved it now.

He turned to where she lay, her chestnut and silver hair like a halo around her, and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and nestling his head on her shoulder. Her felt, rather than saw, her smile as he placed tiny kisses on her shoulder and neck. Her arms came around him and she shifted subtly so they fit together better.

“Happy birthday Love.” She whispered softly against his skin, nuzzling his flesh fondly. His reply was a kiss; soft and deep and loving. After nearly four years of marriage, there was still such passion between them. His hands caressed her hips, leaning into her and controlling her movements with his weight gently. She gasped when she felt his burgeoning arousal press against her heated flesh.

“Shouldn’t you be taking it easy Love? After all, you’re an old man now.” She teased with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

“Insolent wench, I’ll show you who’s past it.” He growled playfully, nipping her throat as his deft fingers reached for his ultimate goal. Her hands fluttered over his chest and back, teasing him with their delicate touches and stopping only to grip in surprise as he slid one slender digit into her heated depths.

“I will never cease to be amazed how easily you become ready for me my love.” He whispered huskily as he teased her to greater heights with first one, then two fingers.

“I love you Severus.” She panted, though whether it was a declaration or explanation he knew not.

Slanting his mouth over hers once more, he delved his tongue into her moist cavern as he shifted his hips and entered her swiftly, swallowing her delighted moan. Slowly and determinedly he moved within her, revelling in the feel of her, the sound of her, her very essence blending with his. If he concentrated hard, he could feel her magic flowing and merging with his own. Two bonded souls reacting and becoming one.

Soon their lovemaking increased in intensity; the physical ecstasy and the whirling magical energy surrounding them as they cried out their mutual culmination. Gasping and trembling, Severus collapsed onto Sadira who was still spasming around his spent member. Heaving and shivering, they gazed in wonder into each other’s eyes; malachite on obsidian.

“Incredible.” Sadie gasped, planting soft open kisses on her husband’s face.

“It always is.” He replied with a wry grin, kissing her forehead, and rolling over, pulling her with him before curling up to sleep.