After Nagini's bite, Lucius found Severus instead of Harry.

(TW: Major character death, past mpreg)

***

"No!" he cried, kneeling in front of the man he loves so dearly. "No, no, no!" he repeated deliriously. He put his hands on his younger lover's neck, where he was bleeding to death, and applied pressure to stop the bleeding, but it was in vain.

"Lucius," a weak voice said. With his last ounce of strength, he grabbed the blond man's collar.

"Sev, you must have something on you, a-an antivenom or something... a-anything to save you" he was clearly crying. Anyone would do in his position. "Please" he begged. "Give me something to save you, please"

"No, love" Severus gasped. With blood filling his lungs, it was becoming more difficult to speak. "Daysha" he finally managed to say. "You must look after her"

"You're a Potions Master! How can you not have some antidote on you?!"

"Lucius focus. You should be the one to raise Daysha after I'm gone"

"No- no don't say that. You're not going a-anywhere Severus. My Sev cannot die today, you cannot die before me. I can't bear it"

"Luc... listen-" his sentence was cut short when he coughed up blood. He yanked on Malfoy's clothes once more, this time more desperately. "She's yours," he spat out at last. And then he began to cry. The thought of his daughter growing up like him burned his veins even worse than the venom.

Time stopped around Lucius as his heart started to beat faster, he didn't think it was possible a minute ago. "What?" he exhaled. "But you said-"

"I know what I said" sobbed Severus. "I didn't want your name, your marriage, to be tainted" he released Lucius's clothes and placed his hand on his chin. "But she's yours, I swear. She even has-" his sentence cut abruptly as a searing pain went through his whole body. "She even has your hair" he managed to gasp out before his body arched with another wave of pain. "Her hair was black when you saw her but it was a glamour, she's yours. I've never been with anyone but you in my whole life"

Lucius slowly caressed his temple with feather-like kisses "We could've raise her together" he whined, shaking his head as if he wants to wake up from a horrible nightmare. "Please don't leave me alone"

"It's okay" Severus whispered, that was all he could do.

"It's all my fault" Lucius admitted.

"Stop"

"I introduced you to Dark, it's because of me, you took the Mark because of me" he muttered against his darling's ear. "I should be the one who's dying"

"Look into my eyes" Severus said with a stern voice. When Lucius faced him, he said again "It's okay"

"What am I going to say to her when she asks about you? Salazar, she's only two"

"Just say her mama loves her" He had to put his hand over his mouth to keep his sobs from becoming too loud. "I need you to stay strong and be a good father to our daughter, okay? She's in Spinner's End with my mother. Promise me you won't leave Daysha with her." Severus was barely audible anymore; he didn't know how much time he had left, but it wasn't difficult to guess that it wasn't much.

"I won't" Lucius said. He'd never leave his own blood with a woman who had scarred Severus. But he didn't know how to be strong, he was weak; the love of his life was dying in his arms, and all he could do was nothing; he was weak.

"Promise me!"

The begging tone in Severus' voice woke him up from his train of thoughts. He nodded quickly. "Of course I won't leave her, dearest. She is my own flesh and blood, a part of us. I promise"

Severus' breathing began to slow as he reached for Lucius one last time. Malfoy intertwined their fingers and pressed his forehead against his dearest's. "I love you" he said as he breath out. He waited for a response but when none came he closed his eyes tightly as tears streamed down his cheeks. He couldn't tear his face away from Severus' for a while. He was too afraid to look at his lover's lifeless figure.

"I know you love me too"

He eventually drew back a little, pressed his lips against his beloved's forehead, and said "It's okay"

Dancing Cheek to Cheek, Part 2. Outlander.

Rating: T Canon-compliant. Missing scene 04x09 Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17741855/chapters/41997440#workskin Fraser’s Ridge October 1769 Brianna had barely touched her supper. Again. She was careful to try to conceal that fact; I’m sure she realized I was watching her. She’d peeled apart the sweet pearl onions with the tines of her fork, making little rosebuds out of the layers, then set about picking the bones from her trout and mashing the flesh into an unappetizing pink paste. Her utensils moved constantly, but I hadn’t seen more than three bites actually reach her mouth. Rollo, on the other hand, had been the happy recipient of at least ten; he sat with his head in her lap, licking his chops hopefully every few seconds. Worried though I was, I couldn’t help but smile faintly at the sight. It harkened back so strongly to Bree’s toddler years, when she would gleefully slop handfuls of food onto the floor beneath her high chair, doubling over with peals of laughter when our Newfoundland gobbled up the mess. God, but I longed for those days. Her needs had been so intrinsically simple then, and all of her troubles could be soothed with a cuddle and a kiss. I didn’t know how to help her now. When everyone else had finished their supper, I stood to clear the dishes and stacked Bree’s plate on the rest without comment. Still, I made a point to catch her eye, long enough to let her know that I’d seen half her supper go to the canine garbage disposal. The color rose in her cheeks, but there was a flash of gratefulness, too, for my silence. Good. She needed to know that she could still trust me to keep her secrets. Whatever this one was – and there was something, I was certain – I hoped that maybe this would be the nudge she needed to share it with me. “Let me help you with that,” she offered, pushing back her chair and beginning to gather up the cutlery and serving dishes. Working with the practiced ease of many years of dinner cleanup, we had the table cleared and leftovers stored in a matter of minutes. I mixed a bit of our drinking water with some boiling water from the kettle, and then the two of us assumed our usual stations: I washed, she dried. The men remained seated around the table behind us, engrossed in their post-dinner banter-and-whisky. I waited for a particularly boisterous swell in the conversation before tilting my head to Brianna’s. “Can I get you something else, darling? It’s not a PB&J on Wonderbread, but there are bannocks and honey in the cupboard.” “No thanks,” she murmured, leaning her temple against mine. “The dinner was great, I’m just not feeling very well.” Frowning, I wiped a soapy hand on my apron and then pressed it to her forehead. “You do feel a bit warm.” “Yeah. And just... queasy. Tired. I don’t know.” She rubbed a wrist over bleary eyes. “I think I’m coming down with something. Guess I should probably go to bed early tonight, huh?” “I think that would be wise,” I agreed, smoothing back an errant red curl from her brow. Bree shifted closer to me, then, dropping her head to my shoulder and nosing into the curve of my neck for comfort. That old familiar gesture ignited my maternal instincts like a matchstick, the quiet incessant worry stoked at once into a roaring blaze. I gathered my giant Viking of a child into my arms and wrapped her tight, my eyes snapping up over her shoulder to find Jamie’s. He’d been watching; the men’s conversation had never lulled, but I’d felt his gaze on us the entire time. The moment he caught my eye, he gave an infinitesimal nod, and turned to touch his godfather’s wrist under the table. They, too, proceeded to have an entire conversation with only their eyes, and within seconds Murtagh had drained the last of his whisky and set the empty tumbler down with a clank. “Weel, thank ye kindly for the fine supper,” he said, taking his cue. “Young Ian, if ye would, I need some help wi’ the horses before ye retire for the night.” Ian, the sweet daft lad, took a bit more prodding. “Och, are ye turnin’ in already, ye auld coot? Why, it’s nae half past sev–” “Mmphm.” Never one for subtlety, Murtagh pulled his chair back for him, clasped a firm hand on his shoulder, and herded him toward the door like a particularly relentless sheepdog. “Oh, er, well then, I – ow, I’m comin’ , ye dinna have to push me! – Uncle Jamie, Auntie, Cousin, ‘twas a pleasure, as always. S’pose we’ll see ye in the mornin’ then. Come, Rollo!” “Night, boys,” Bree called, lifting her head with an unconvincing smile. Still, she didn’t make a move to leave the circle of my arms. The men exchanged a few brief parting words on the porch, and then Murtagh and young Ian were off down the wooden steps. Jamie leaned against the doorjamb, waving them goodbye. When their crunching bootfalls faded into silence, there was a strained pause as he turned to catch my eye again, one hand still resting hesitantly on the door. Should I go? He asked me wordlessly. Before he could read the answer in my face, Brianna called out to him softly, surprising us both. “Stay, Da.” The faint smile that touched her lips was genuine this time. She lifted an elbow toward the stack of clean, dry dishes. “You can be on gopher duty.” Jamie’s eyes narrowed in confusion. I gave a soft huff of laughter before clarifying for him, “She means you can put the dishes away.” A relieved smile bloomed on his face, then, spreading until the tips of his ears went pink. Before he moved to join us, though, he threw me a second questioning glance, making sure that I agreed. Swallowing my disappointment – I had hoped that this might be an opportunity for a mother-daughter bonding moment, wherein she might finally open up to me – I smiled back at him, nodded, and pressed my lips into Brianna’s hair. This was a good thing, after all. We’d been hoping for something like this. If only you knew what it means for her to ask, I wanted to tell him. Gopher duty had always been Frank’s job. I washed; Brianna dried; Frank put away. It had been our routine every night since Bree was old enough to hold a dish towel. Assigning it to Jamie was more than just a kind way to include him; it was a small gesture of acceptance, permitting him to assume a role she’d always associated with her father. Smiling, I bumped Brianna’s hip with my own in subtle acknowledgment. She didn’t look up, but gently bumped me back. Then, with a weary sigh, she began to pull away from me to resume her own assigned task. The worry flooded back over me in a rush, and I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, smoothing my other palm over her too-warm cheek. The invitation had been extended; that was the important part. Jamie and Bree could do the dishes together another time. “It’s alright, darling. We can handle the rest of this. Why don’t you call it a night?” Brianna deflated a bit in relief, and I knew I’d been right to offer. “Yeah, sorry. I might take you up on that. I’m pretty beat.” She pursed her lips, then, hesitating, as though she wanted to ask something but wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. I held her gaze, eyebrows raised slightly in encouragement, until at last she relented with a slight blush, “Will you come tuck me in?” Longing and concern knotted themselves into an aching lump in the back of my throat. I couldn’t even remember the last time she’d asked. “Oh, my sweet girl,” I whispered, a bit of moisture pricking at my eyes. “Of course.” I brushed a thumb along the curve of her cheekbone, then gave her neck a pat. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, and I’ll be along in a moment?” “‘Kay,” she said faintly, her lips tightening in appreciation. She took a step toward the door and then thought better of it, veering right to give Jamie a one-armed hug. “Night, Da. Thanks for picking up my slack.” “Och, dinna fash. Before you came, this was my job, ye ken. So if anything, I reckon you’ve been picking up my slack.” He rubbed a hand up and down her back before releasing her. Though he managed a smile, the lines around his eyes were tight with concern. “I’m sorry ye dinna feel well. Get some rest, aye? I’m sure ye’ll be right as rain in the morning.” “Hope so.” Jamie looked as though he very much wanted to kiss her, but settled for sweeping a large hand through her hair instead. “Sleep well, m’annsachd.” “You too. Night.” She went to the door, and threw one last glance over her shoulder at me, seeking reassurance. “I’ll be right there,” I promised, and then she was gone with the squeak of a hinge and clatter of the door. A long, aching silence fell over the cabin in her absence, fraught with worry and uncertainty, words left unspoken, questions for which neither of us had the answers. When I finally looked over at Jamie, his knuckles were white on the table edge. “How bad?” he asked quietly, without looking up. “I ken it’s bad enough by the look on your face, but…” I drew in a deep, shaky breath, letting my eyes drift shut. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know what’s wrong. She won’t tell me.” “You dinna think she’s truly ill, then?” I shrugged, then picked up a serving dish from the dirty pile and began to scrub at the brown ring of baked-on food. “She does feel warm. A low-grade fever, maybe.” “And she’s no’ eating. The mongrel had the lion’s share of her supper.” “Mm.” I scrubbed a bit harder. “Do ye think it could be the malaria?” he asked suddenly, a bit of alarm creeping into his tone. “Like her wee companion?” “No,” I assured him. “No, she would have had to contract it from the same source, during the crossing from Scotland. The symptoms would have manifested long before now. No, I’m sure this is just a virus, nothing to worry about.” I sighed heavily, passing a wrist over my eyes. “It’s not the fever that’s bothering me.” “Aye, I ken.” He took the now-spotless serving dish from me, rinsed it, and began to dry it. “You think there’s more to the story than she’s tellin’ ye. About Roger.” I chewed the tip of my tongue for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.” “Do you think she’ll tell ye now? If ye ask?” “Maybe.” I nodded again slowly, finally meeting his gaze. “But I’m not sure if I should ask, or wait to see if she’ll broach the subject on her own. I think she’s been trying to get up the courage to tell me, whatever it is. The fact that she’s asking for me like this… reaching out…” “Go to her, then,” he insisted. A flicker of emotion passed behind his eyes that I couldn’t quite name. “She needs ye, Claire. She...” He drew in a breath and held it for a moment, as though trying to find the right words. Whatever he was going to say, he dismissed it with an exhale and a shake of his head, and took the dish from my hands. “I’ll finish here, mo nighean donn. Go and see to our daughter.”

______________

Lizzie was already sound asleep by the time I slipped into the shelter that was serving as the girls’ temporary living space. The physician in me couldn’t help but step over to her and perform a quick assessment of her sleeping form: normal rate and rhythm of breathing, pallid complexion but not diaphoretic, skin turgor and mucous membranes that didn’t immediately scream of dehydration. Deeming her ostensibly stable, I was able to fix my attention on my daughter without the background noise of niggling doctor’s guilt. Brianna was just finishing her nighttime ablutions when I turned to her. She’d already changed into her nightgown, brushed her hair and washed her face, and was currently scrubbing her teeth with a frayed willow twig. “I miss Crest,” she said thickly, before spitting into the wooden basin. “So do I,” I assured her. “Or a proper toothbrush, for that matter.” “That too.” I stepped up behind her, stroking my fingers through the shimmering copper waves while she rinsed and packed away her personal hygiene items. “Do you want me to braid your hair for you?” I asked softly. She shook her head, scrubbing a hand over her eyes. “Not tonight. I’ve got a killer headache. I thought leaving my hair down might help.” “My poor baby.” I kissed her temple, draping an arm about her shoulders. “You really aren’t feeling well, are you?” “No,” she moaned, turning into my embrace and tucking her nose into the curve of my neck again. I brought a hand up to the base of her head to cradle her there, while the other smoothed up and down her back. “Do you want me to make you some tea for the headache?” I asked, feeling desperately as though I needed to do something more. “It might help.” “No, Mama,” she murmured, nuzzling closer. “Can you just hold me for a little while?” “Of course,” I whispered. “Of course I can.” I turned my lips into her hair and began to rock her gently, swaying back and forth on the balls of my feet. Bree let out a little huff of air against my neck and tried to settle in, but after a few moments it occurred to me that she was now much, much taller than the last time we’d done this, and bending over for an extended period of time couldn’t be the most comfortable position for her. Drawing back, I moved my hands to her shoulders and steered her toward her bed. “Why don’t you lie down, Bumblebee?” I suggested, smiling on the old, seldom-used pet name. “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” Bree gave me a wan smile, then went to pull back the covers and climb into bed. She scooted over to the far side of the mattress to make room for me, and I slid in obligingly beside her. I propped myself up on one elbow and allowed her a moment to get settled before pulling the quilt up and tucking it in all the way around her. “There we go,” I said, in the whispery sing-song voice I’d used on her as a child. “Snug as a bug in a rug, hmm?” I molded my own body loosely alongside hers on the outside of the blankets, close enough to give her my comfort and warmth, but not so close that I would disturb her when I got up to leave. Bree drew in a trembling breath as she turned her gaze up to me, her slanted blue eyes suddenly filling with tears. “I missed you so much, Mama.” She looked so young and so lost in that moment that I felt my heart would hemorrhage into my chest. Abandoning all thought of giving her space, I leaned forward and clasped her to me with bruising force. “Oh, Bree. Oh, my baby.” I suddenly wanted nothing more than to take that beautiful child back into my womb, where I could protect her and keep her close to me, always. “You have no idea.” She was clutching to my shawl with balled fists, sniffling and shaking in my arms. I felt her take a breath to say something several times, only to lose her nerve and whimper instead. “What is it?” I begged her after the third time. “Bree, tell me what’s the matter.” She shook her head miserably, burying her face in the soft swell of my bosom. “Not tonight, Mama. Please? Can we talk about it tomorrow?” I drew in a deep breath, desperately trying to steady myself. So there was something. Something more. Something she’d been keeping from me. And if I were being perfectly honest with myself, I already knew what it was. I was a doctor, and her mother. I knew, and I pushed that knowledge stubbornly, viciously down. “Tomorrow, then,” I agreed, somehow managing to sound calm. “You can come pick herbs with me by the river. We’ll make a day of it. All right?” She nodded wordlessly, releasing her breath in a little sob of relief. Tomorrow. But not tonight. Tonight, I needed to hold my baby. And my baby needed her mother. I cradled her to me and rocked her, and tried to blur out everything else. If I buried my face in her hair and breathed her in, just like this, I could still see the moonlight chase the shadows across the nursery floor. I was humming to her before I was even aware that I was doing it. It always seemed to start that way – a maternal instinct, soul-deep and primal, to soothe a child with song, even before the conscious mind could catch up. Bree noticed, though. She sniffled and wiped her nose on my shawl, then gave an unexpected little huff of laughter. “Sinatra, Mama? Really?” she said, her voice groggy from crying and exhaustion. “You hate Ol’ Blue Eyes.” I craned my head back to peer at her quizzically. “What do you mean?” “That song you were humming. It’s Frank Sinatra, right?” I smiled. “Fred Astaire, darling. A classic. You never saw Top Hat?” “No.” “Mm. You’re missing out.” I kissed the top of her head and resumed rocking her. After a moment, a thought occurred to me. “But what would make you say I hate Sinatra?” “Don’t you?” “No. Whyever would you think so?” She pulled back a bit, quirking an eyebrow at me as she propped herself up on an elbow. “Uhh, maybe the fact that you always switched off the radio whenever one of his songs came on?”   That surprised me. I blinked – twice – before managing a weak, “Oh.” Bree chuckled at that, and I returned a thin smile. I thought about it for a moment, then answered quietly, “No... it wasn’t that I didn’t… I liked his music very much, actually. I just couldn’t listen to it, because it –” “Reminded you of Jamie,” she finished for me, realization dawning on her face. She looked at me then as though she were suddenly seeing me through the eyes of a peer, and not a child. Very slowly, she started to nod, pursing her lips. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Yeah, I kind of get that.” I studied her face sadly, reaching up to touch her cheek. “I’m sorry that you do,” I whispered. I caught myself, then, and screwed my lips shut before I could say more. Tomorrow. Bree returned a sad smile, but her eyes were clear now; no more tears. She laid her head down on the pillow, still watching me with that gleam of newly kindled understanding. “Can you sing it to me? That song?” “Would it make you feel better?” She shrugged, smiling sleepily. “Worth a shot.” Suddenly a bit shy, I laid my head down next to hers and fidgeted with a frayed string on the quilt. I picked up from where I’d left off humming, my voice soft and hoarse, rising just enough for her to hear me across the pillow. Oh! I love to climb a mountain And to reach the highest peak But I don’t enjoy it half as much As dancing cheek to cheek Oh! I like to go out fishing In a river or a creek But I don’t enjoy it half as much As dancing cheek to cheek Dance with me I want my arm about you The charm about you Will carry me through to heaven I’m in Heaven And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak And I seem to find the happiness I seek When we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek She was half-asleep by the time I’d finished, burrowed in her pillow, the corner of her lip tipped sweetly upward. “That was really nice, Mama,” she murmured. “You have a pretty voice.” I blushed. “Thank you.” One catlike blue eye cracked open, the corner of her lip lifting even further. “Da can’t carry a tune in a bucket. I caught him singing to the pig the other day.” I blew a raspberry trying to contain a laugh, still vaguely cognizant that Lizzie was sleeping across the room. “One of his few genetic shortcomings, I’m afraid. Thankfully, it’s one that he didn’t pass along to you.” Brianna scrunched her nose, holding up a lock of her thick red mane. “Yeah, this was bad enough. You just had to fall in love with a ginger, huh, Mama?” I gave a little hum of amusement, bending to kiss her. “I’m not sorry one bit.” She smiled, her eyes slipping shut again. I stroked her hair for a little while, waiting for her to begin to drift off. She didn’t, though; the tension that had eased from her face while I sang began to tighten the skin around her eyes and mouth again. She shifted restlessly, moving her limbs under the covers, trying and failing to get comfortable. At last she opened her eyes with an apologetic little sigh, took my hand from her head, and gave it a squeeze. “I’m okay now, Mama. Thanks for sitting with me. You should get back to Jamie, let him know I’m not dying or anything. He spent the whole night looking at me like I was going to spontaneously combust.” I nodded, bringing up my other hand to clasp hers between mine. “He loves you very much, you know.” “I know.” I opened my mouth, wanting to say more, but I recognized the glaze that was falling over Brianna’s eyes. Jamie did that – retreated into himself to think, his face utterly impassable. I didn’t have that ability; she certainly didn’t get it from me. Still, I recognized it for the dismissal that it was. If she needed time with her thoughts, I could certainly respect that. Tomorrow would come soon enough. I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it softly. “And I love you too, my Bumblebee. Rest well. I’ll meet you by the river in the morning.” “Bright and early, knowing you,” she said, offering an unconvincing smile as she burrowed back into her pillow. “Night, Mama.” “Goodnight, my darling.”

_______ Jamie was sitting in his chair by the fire, a book open in his lap. I highly doubted he’d read a single word; he was staring off into the flames, his stiff ring finger tapping restlessly on his thigh. His eyes snapped up when I walked through the door, and he was on his feet before I’d taken three steps into the cabin. “How is she?” I went to him, heaving a deep sigh against his chest as his arms folded around me. I shook my head a little, then tilted my face up to his, hoping that he could read it and I wouldn’t have to say anything at all. He studied me for a moment, then pressed his lips to my forehead. I felt his fingers curl tightly into the fabric of my dress. “Tomorrow,” I whispered to him, both an answer and a request. Jamie nodded, and took my hand, and brought me with him to bed. We didn’t bother to change out of our clothes; there was no point. He sat up against the pillows and opened his arms for me, and I molded against him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. Huddled together and silent, we listened to the clock tick away the minutes until morning. Neither of us slept a wink that night.

One shot: Lily and Sev watching Ariel's first steps

I didn’t feel like writing James and Sev bickering, so this is… an AU, I guess? I also kinda modeled it after the scene in Grey’s when MerDer are trying to teach Zola to walk. 

“I think she’s gonna do it this time.” Lily said.

She pretended not to see Severus hang his head in dread. Granted, this was the fifth time she’d said it in the past hour, but in her defense, he should’ve been used to it by now. Ariel’s first steps were what they’d all been waiting on for weeks. She should have been walking already, but Lily couldn’t help but wonder if the delay had to do with the fact that Severus carried Ariel everywhere instead of letting her crawl or at least try to move around on her own. He’d waved it away as preposterous, but not preposterous enough to let Lily go at it by herself. 

Now, Lily was dead set on catching Ariel’s first shaky steps on camera. She couldn’t wait any longer. There was something intoxicating about a child’s firsts – their first words, first crawl, first bit of accidental magic. The pride was addicting. Severus felt it too, but he’d never admit it to her. He thought the camera was taking it too far.

“I think you’re starting to unhinge.” Sev rolled his eyes. “You’re obsessed.”

“Look at her. Look at her eyes.”

“She’s staring at the biscuits you left out. She’s tried to steal them twice already.”

“I see determination. She’s gonna do it any second now.”

Lily refocused the Muggle camera on Ariel, who was crouched on the ground, stacking blocks. Severus lay sprawled beside her, handing her pieces as she concentrated on her tower.

“Will you put that thing down already?” Severus asked, a disguised edge to his voice. “She’s going to think that lense is her mother.”

“I’m going to get her first steps on tape.” Lily said, smiling forcefully to keep her frustration from showing. “Unless she walks while we’re at work. Then I’m going to kill myself.”

“She’ll walk for us.” Severus put Ariel back on her feet. “Maybe if you stopped shoving that monstrosity in her face –”

“I am going to immortalize my baby’s first steps.” Lily said sweetly. “You’ll thank me when she’s seventeen and doesn’t want anything to do with us.”  

Severus whispered something into Ariel’s ear, and she babbled back, shoving a chubby fist in her mouth. She then presented Severus with a block, which he took gingerly, and placed with the others she’d been steadily giving him. 

“Look at your mother,” Severus said softly, pointing at Lily. “she’s going to go on for hours if you don’t do this now, and Daddy will drown himself in the bathtub to escape.”

Lily threw a block at him. “Shut up. Get your daughter to walk to me.”

He smirked, holding Ariel up on her feet. “Yes dear.”

“Prat.”

“Should I stand with her? Maybe it’ll encourage her to take off by herself.”

“Do whatever you have to. This is happening today.”

Sev gave her a doubtful look, but slowly stood up as Ariel bobbed happily. “Ready?”

“Take seven.” Lily muttered darkly as she hit the record button. She could’ve sworn she heard Sev snort.

She immediately flashed her best smile as she held up the camera in one hand, Ariel’s favorite stuffed fox with the other. “Come to Mummy, baby. Look at Foxy, he wants you to come to Mummy. C'mon, love. Look at Mummy, come to Mummy!”

Ariel clapped her hands and laughed, but didn’t make any attempts to move. Severus towered over her, his long legs on either side of her, as she gripped his fingers with both hands. He gave a tiny tug, and she took a shaky step forward.

“Yes, yes that’s it!” Lily felt her heart lift. “Come to Mummy, Ariel! Look at you!”

She plopped down on the ground, shoving a block in her mouth. Sev gave her an amused smirk as Lily threw her hands up in exasperation.

“Give it time, Lily.” Severus sighed. “She’ll walk when she’s ready, and that doesn’t seem to be something that’s going to happen today.”

“What if we miss it?” she moaned, turning off the camera. “We’ll blink and she’ll be all grown up.”

“Nonsense.” he kissed the top of Ariel’s head. “She’s not allowed, and she knows it.”

Ariel blew her lips and giggled. Severus looked at her like she’d recited a potion by heart.

“I’m going to make tea.” he said. “I think you might need something a bit more potent to take the edge off.”

“What if she never walks?”

“If our baby doesn’t walk, we’ll get her a broom.”

“You’d never let her fly by herself.”

“Who said she’d be the one flying?”

Lily laughed as Severus set Ariel down beside her. She couldn’t help but worry about silly things like that… of course Ariel would walk, but the anticipation of it actually happening was driving her mad. She didn’t want to miss it. If she came home one day to hear from Remus that she’d walked down the hallway all by herself, she’d wreck herself with guilt.

“Dada!” Ariel called as Sev disappeared into the kitchen. She frowned in confusion, looking to Lily when her father didn’t reappear.

“DADA!” she shouted, but Severus still didn’t respond. Ariel’s bottom lip began to tremble, her eyes tripling in size.

“He’ll be back in a second, love.” Lily gave a tired smile, letting her head hit the back of the couch. She was exhausted, and more than ready to let Severus take care of Ariel if she started crying. He possessed the incredible talent of being able to calm her with just a few soft words in her ear. With Lily, it took moving heaven and earth, especially if all she wanted was Severus.

Ariel crawled over to her, settling into her lap. Lily cracked one eye open at her as Ariel patted her shoulder, asking for her attention.

“You can walk,” Lily said. “you’re just holding out on us.”

Ariel furrowed her eyebrows. “Dada.”

“You should walk to Dada if you miss him that much already.“Lily mumbled, letting her eyes slide shut again. She was exhausted after a tedious day of work, and then an even longer evening of smiling and cooing at her thirteen-month old.

The pitter patter of footsteps made her head snap up.

Ariel was walking – no, running – towards the kitchen. Walking, on her legs, without help. Walking.

“Sev – SEV!” Lily shrieked as she scrambled to her knees.

He flew back into view, appearing alarmed as Lily pointed frantically at the small miracle toddling towards him. When his gaze landed on Ariel racing towards him, his jaw dropped.

“Is she –”

“She’s walking!” Lily couldn’t stop watching her little legs. It was finally happening.

“The – the bloody Muggle device!” Sev sputtered. “Good God woman, get the camera!”

“Oh – shit – no!” Lily frantically reached over to grab it, accidentally ejecting the tape in the process. “Keep going, Ariel – Sev, walk back into the kitchen! Keep her going!”

It was too late – the tape had unwound in the process, and Severus was already on his knees, ready to scoop Ariel up the second she got to him.

His eyes lit up like something had hit home, something he’d possessed, but had forgotten about until he’d held it in his hands again. Sev picked her up as soon as she was in his arms, bouncing her in celebration as Ariel shrieked with laughter.

“I missed it!” Lily groaned. “I bloody missed it!”

“You didn’t miss anything.” Severus waved her off, his eyes never leaving Ariel’s face. “Did you see how fast she was moving?”

“She didn’t even walk!” Lily through a hand over her mouth, trying to hide her smile. “She ran after you.”

Ariel pulled on his hair lightly, seemingly delighted with the fact that Severus was letting him without immediately putting her down. His own pride was undeniable – it was strange, to see it in his face so plainly. It was like staring at the sun for too long. Lily was afraid that if she looked away, or blinked, it would disappear. 

“She’s brilliant.” Sev shrugged. “I would expect nothing less.”

Lily smiled. “Well, now when she wants something, you can’t just ignore her. She’ll come after you.” 

“I would hope so,” Sev said. 

Lily knew he did. 

She knew better than Severus did himself.