Epilogue

Your love taught me,

How to love you in all things.

Nizar Qabbani

Sunday

Christmas Day is enchanting.

I wake Severus early, bouncing onto the bed and into his arms, burrowing my nose into his neck and taking a deep breath in of the intoxicating scent that clings to his skin. He groans and twists his body around until his arms are clamped around my naked body, the possessive touch sending a thrill to my belly.

His erection makes itself known as he pushes against me, mumbling nonsense into my hair.

"Well, good morning," I drawl, wriggling my hips with a giggle. "Someone's excited for Christmas."

"Not for Christmas," he growls, and reaches around to pointedly cup my breasts. "Is it time for my first present?"

"Cheeky sod." I twist in his arms and place a kiss to his nose. "Come on!"

We manage to drag ourselves out of bed and sit under our Christmas tree naked as the day we were born. It has become a tradition of sorts – last year, the Christmas after we finally got together, he hadn't anticipated anything (or so he says) and had no clean clothes to wear, and I found that I couldn't stop attempting to take advantage of his nakedness. Hence, our second Christmas in my flat that we now share is celebrated in much the same way.

"What have you got me?" Severus shakes the first of many boxes, bringing it to his ear with narrowed eyes. I love this man, but I especially love him at Christmas; the excitement he shows for both giving and receiving is truly amusing.

"Oh, you might recognise it." I bite my lip and watch as he tears off the shiny blue wrapping paper – Muggle, as he's always had a hilarious time of removing sticky tape – to a nondescript looking black box inside.

"You didn't," he grumbles, affecting indignation.

I giggle and jump into his lap, unmindful of the rest of the gifts on the floor that I've pushed aside to get to him. "I did! Can you believe it took me so long to figure it out?"

He removes the perfume from the box and shakes his head. "Your head was in the clouds."

"Still. It was a very romantic gesture, you know. I wish you'd have done it before."

Severus looks at the bottle; it is a magical concoction, designed to make the object of the wearer's desire smell their most treasured scents. It only works if the person returns their affections, which is how Severus decided to wear it in the first place just over a year ago now. It broke down the scents that I always smell now whenever I breathe in Amortentia – conveniently, the singular notes distracted me from piecing them all together. Not that I knew that; the poor sod had been wearing the perfume for two months before I'd even gotten close enough for the first whiff.

"I wasn't sure if it'd work," he mutters eventually, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "You were awfully good at hiding it."

"I thought you'd never want someone like me," I say, shrugging. "But it would've worked. It would've worked from the first day you walked into the lab."

He puts the bottle down and draws his arms around me, pushing my hair back so he can kiss my cheek. "How could you ever think such a thing? Silly little witch," he purrs, his fingers drawing lines on my back.

Friday

I slip out the door and close it with a gentle click. Trying hard to be as quiet as a mouse, I tiptoe away from my bedroom and into the tiny kitchen. One glass of water later and I make my way out of the flat and down the stairs before stepping out into the crisp morning air. My mission is simple: make it to the bakery on the corner and back before the delectable, dishevelled man sprawled across my bed wakes.

The shop is decorated from floor to ceiling; a large tree has been set up in the corner. Next week, it will be the third Christmas that I shall have the good fortune to wake beside Severus. There is a pleasant ache between my thighs as I pay for the warm and crispy chocolate filled croissants. When I reach out to accept the tiny silver coins in change, the small diamond on my left hand catches the light.

"Pretty," the portly shop witch comments, giving me a cheeky grin. I shrug and bite my lip. "He did well," she continues. "How long has it been now anyway? I thought you'd have given me a little one to coo over by now."

I glance down at the ring. "We've only been engaged for a year, Molly. There's no rush."

The Weasley matriarch shrugs her shoulders and shoves another two croissants in the paper bag. "On the house. To fatten him up."

"If we knew you were going to be this nosy," I say, "we never would've invested in the bakery in the first place!"

"Tosh!" Molly sniffs. I mimic her and grin; we have repeated this charade for the last six months. "And when are you moving out of that flat?"

"I told you yesterday," I counter with a wagging finger. "As soon as we find a place that we like. Moving to the country isn't exactly affordable, you know. When we find something in our price range that's got enough land for Severus to think he's in the middle of nowhere, we'll buy it."

"Yes, well, it'd be all right if you took up that land next to ours-"

"Severus would burn your house down within a month, you know that."

"Ah, quite true," Molly says pensively. "Well, you know…"

My ears perk up. If I had a tail, it'd be wagging. "Do I know what?"

She screws her mouth up and taps her nose. "There's a cousin of a very distant relation of Arthur's…"

Thursday

"This was worth the twelve months we saved to buy it. I don't care how many hours of overtime we had to do," Severus declares as we look up at the newly restored cottage.

"It's perfect," I mumble hoarsely, mortified that I've begun to cry.

"Hush now," my husband says, drawing an arm around me as he chuckles. "Is it always going to be like this?"

I give him an indignant harrumph. "I don't know, do I? I haven't-"

"I haven't been pregnant before," he says, imitating my higher, sharper voice to a T. "I know, love. Neither have I, remember?"

"Psch. You're always so snarky in the mornings," I answer, accepting a smack of a kiss to my cheek with a giggle. "Come on – let's go in!"

Severus pats my belly and offers me his arm, smirking as I give a little squeal and all but run to our new home.

The cottage is beautiful; white walls, a slate roof, a gravel driveway. It looks like the ones we fell in love with in Kilmore when we first visited Ireland a year and a half ago. There's no front fence because the land goes on for miles – or rather, we're on a slope that makes it look like that. There are tyre tracks that lead up to the driveway, a relic from one of Arthur Weasley's friend's second cousin's niece. Or something.

Our battered old green four-wheel drive is already parked out the front; Fred drove it up last week. I didn't ask how he even managed to organise it, because I really do not want to know how the naughty twin managed to get our car from England to Ireland without scratching it once. Cheeky sod.

We lower our voices when we enter. We've seen it before, of course – Severus oversaw a lot of the construction, and we drew up the plans together, but there's nothing quite like seeing it done and dusted.

The stone floors are warm under our feet, thanks to a clever charm of my husband's, and we remove our shoes to pad around, staring with mouths gaping reverently. The sneaky sod has been here already, I discover, as there's a Christmas tree with mismatched baubles standing proudly in the corner.

"Beautiful," I manage when we're standing in front of our new bed. The windows behind the dark wooden frame look out to rolling hills that will be covered with mist come morning.

"Yes, you are," Severus replies, easing the cardigan off of my shoulders. I turn my head to the side with a sigh as he places one open-mouthed kiss to my shoulder. "So very, very beautiful."

The End

Merry Christmas!