Severus was knackered. First he had spent an hour weeding the new herb garden before it turned into an impenetrable jungle, cut his hand slicing caterpillars and then botched the batch of his experimental version of the improved Shrinking Solution he had needed them for, but he was too tired to get upset. Crookshanks had glared at him because he had forgotten to feed him, again, and was sulking under the couch. Severus needed sleep.

He tottered across the bedroom, sidestepped the heaps of unpacked boxes from their move to Teignmouth, grazed the muslin squares, stubbed his toe on the gigantic new wardrobe his wife had insisted on, almost cast Silencio on himself out of reflex before his brain caught up with him and then bit his tongue instead to not cry out in pain and bring Hermione's wrath down on him, zigzagged the stained baby rompers on one foot, hopped around the pack of nappies and finished with a precision landing on the rug in front of the bed. Severus smirked. He was getting better.

On the brand-new wooden bedside cabinet next to their brand-new wooden bed stood their wedding picture. Severus ran his finger over the frame, watched picture Hermione smiling up at him and thanked his lucky stars. That little ritual was as much a part of his nighttime routine as brushing his teeth.

The wedding had taken place in January on Severus's birthday; Hermione had argued that if they waited for summer and they were lucky she might already be heavily pregnant by then. A ministry official married them in Potter's garden. The lawn was covered by a thick layer of snow: several complex charms had been woven into it in order to preserve the picturesque while keeping the wedding party and guests toasty warm at the same time. Otherwise Hermione would have caught a cold in her long strapless wedding gown. Severus wore a chocolate brown knee-length frock coat matching her chiffon empire waist dress. Molly nearly had had a heart attack when she heard that not only had Severus seen Hermione's dress before, but they had gone shopping together for their wedding clothes. They left Molly in charge of the food to appease her and everybody was happy.

The picture was taken right after the ceremony when Hermione whispered into his ear that the wedding stress was not in fact the reason that her period was days overdue; as chance would have it he had the picture of one of the happiest moments of his life.

A murmur had gone through the crowd when the official stated their new name. Doris had proposed that they should hyphenate, but a double-barrelled name sounded too posh for Severus's Mancunian working class soul. He had spent his youth wishing he had been born a Prince and then tried to make his mark as a Snape, with the result that every witch and wizard in Britain knew that he had killed Albus Dumbledore. In the end he decided that fifty years of being a Snape was enough and to start again as a Granger.

For all their liberal-mindedness, he knew for a fact that the Grangers had celebrated the survival of their family name with a glass of champagne at the wedding. He knew because he had caught them at it.

Back in the present Severus shifted the picture an inch backwards and accidentally knocked a little stuffed elephant off to the floor, a gift from the Potters, which landed with a soft, indignant trumpety-trump.

"Ssh, you'll wake him."

"Sorry."

Real Hermione didn't look that lush at that moment when compared to picture Hermione, and the reason for it was just taking a nap. Severus slipped in next to his wife - he never tired of calling her that, he had been known to start conversations with people he normally ignored just so he could introduce her to them as 'my wife', although with the Daily Prophet's coverage of their wedding there shouldn't be any witch or wizard left in ignorance about their marital state - and looked over her shoulder at the little baby boy in her arms. His tiny little hands were clenched into tiny little fists and he was fast asleep. Severus wriggled higher up on the bed so he could embrace Hermione and look at his infant son at the same time. In Severus's eyes little Sean Regulus Granger was perfect with his soft and wispy black baby hair, the button nose he had inherited from his mother, thank Merlin, and the long eyelashes.

They had wanted a plain and simple first name for their child, no Roman emperors, no Shakespearean heroes. Hermione had found a Sean in the Granger family tree and it stuck; Severus had been the one to propose Regulus as middle name. It fit in more ways than one, Hermione agreed. He chose it for Regulus Black, the young Slytherin stupid enough to join the Death Eaters who later realised his mistake, just like Severus, and gave his life trying to defeat the Dark Lord; he never had the chance to grow up, marry and have children, but his name would live on. That was Severus's reason, but Hermione reminded him that Regulus meant little king - and what else was a Prince? - and was also the heart of the lion: the brightest star in the constellation Leo the Lion. What better name for their son?

Sean smiled in his sleep and Severus's heart melted into a puddle of goo. It was amazing how such a tiny creature could wrap him around his little baby finger; sometimes his son's dark brown eyes seemed to look straight into Severus's soul.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" Hermione said and Severus could only nod because he did not trust his voice. So far parenthood was a special kind of madness. Severus suspected it was a defence mechanism so that by the time puberty rolled around the parents were so attached to their offspring that they only dreamed of throttling the obnoxious smelly monsters their cute little babies had turned into instead of actually following through.

Baby Sean was oblivious to his parents watching him and snored loudly. He spent the biggest part of his days and nights either sleeping or feeding at his mother's breast.

Speaking of which, after giving birth Hermione had become curvier in all the right places.

"Don't touch," she said and swatted his hand away.

It wasn't fair, her looking so delicious when apparently her breasts felt like they could burst any second, but Severus wasn't stupid. He raised his hand in the universal sign of surrender and put it on Hermione's no less alluring hips. The baby had put a real damper on their sex life, but that didn't stop Severus from daydreaming.

Now would be a good time to say it, don't you think?

Don't press me. Wait, why can I hear you?

Your shields crumbled around the time your little prince here took his first breath, so we can now work together as a team, with me quietly in the background. You can only hear me now because of your sleep deprivation. It helps me to get through without static, like in your dreams.

No more binge drinking necessary?

No. And now tell them. You're one lucky bastard, Severus, and don't you forget it.

Life hadn't been especially kind to Severus Snape, and Severus Snape hadn't been kind to others in turn, but Severus Granger was having the time of his life. It was him who worked up the courage to do what he was about to do.

"I love you," he whispered into Hermione's ear. "Both of you, so much."

"We know you do, Severus, and we love you too." She clasped his hand and kissed his palm. "We love you too."

To say they lived happily ever after would be an exaggeration, because that's for fairytale creatures and not mere mortals. But they came as close as you can get, much closer than Severus had envisioned in his dreams, which only serves to show that sometimes even dreams pale in comparison with reality. And that is that.

The End