Severus' s Perfect Spouse

NO SMUT ALERT! This story is just sappy sentimentality. There are no lemons, limes or citrus of any kind.

Severus’ Perfect Spouse

If anyone asked before Severus’ ignoble and prematurely reported death, ‘who would be his perfect spouse;’ most would have scoffed at the idea that there could be such a creature. The less polite recipient of the question would have pointed to the nearest hag and had a laugh at the hag’s expense. The thought that he could attract a human partner, with his obvious physical deficiencies and his acidic manner, would have sent both acquaintance and foe into paroxysms of laughter.

Yet, here he stood, nineteen years later, very much alive with a woman on his arm and two children, a boy and a girl, before him. The woman was plump, redheaded and American in her manner of dress. She was his approximate age with the softening of the features that came faster in women than men. She had a sharp, bird-like quality in her gaze and an economy of movement that might be called grace in a taller woman. Her nose, while nowhere as beaky or hooked as her husbands, was quite a prodigious accessory that dominated her features with a certain pride of place.

She was handsome, not beautiful. She was smartly dressed, but no fashion plate.

Severus stared ahead, bending stiffly to treat his daughter to a muttered observation. The girl smiled, revealing white teeth behind thin, pale lips. The boy peered around as if in awe of the foreigners who surrounded them. He pointed at the shiny magically powered engine as he looked up at the woman. She laughed and patted the boy’s back in response.

Severus’ austere features relaxed as he observed the interaction between the woman and his dark-eyed son. His wife turned to him, and to the surprise of all who knew the Potions Master before his supposed death, kissed his cheek.

Soon the children were boarding the Hogwarts Express and the casual observer of the tableaux then saw the twisted appearance of Severus’ limbs, and the awful way he leaned on an aluminium crutch as he swung around to exit the platform. A more astute observation could be made about the woman who aided him without compromising his dignity. She lent her strength as he moved painfully past the barrier and into Muggle London, the look of pride and love in her eyes enough to make even those who did not know the former Death Eater’s past pause in contemplation of how their own spouse should behave in similar circumstance.

Finally, as they trudged to the car park, the woman’s face was shadowed with gentle sorrow as she helped him to his seat in the car, and smoothed his brow. A few words passed between them and then he reached up with his twisted fingers and brushed her cheek with his knuckles.

“You are perfect,” he said.

“I’m glad you noticed.” She bestowed the same brilliant smile upon him that one might see on a child’s face, and then she kissed him once again. “Let’s go home. It’s been a long day.”


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