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How was this his life?
Snape dragged a hand over his tired face and pinched the bridge of his very recognizable nose. How in Salazars name did he end up here, standing in a garden in Scotland while the early-summer rain poured down.
He quickly strengthened the atmosphere charm that kept him dry. There was no way a man of his age did this by his own free will.
His dark eyes watched the two children playing in the puddles. Running around in their tiny wellies. Splashing water everywhere. He had cast impervious charm on both of them before they left their house and it seemed like it still held. Trying to get them to stay still long enough to recast it effectively would rival the same amount of skill required to teach Lucius Malfoy to be humble.
Not a chance in hell, in other words.
Squeals of pure glee rang out when both twins jumped in a slightly deeper puddle. The water was thrown to all sides.
“Dadda, look.”
“Did you see?”
“Dadda!”
“Look!”
Both twins were craning their necks in odd angles to check if he was watching.
Of course he was. Always.
Both with black curly hair and eyes like dark pools.
Valeria and Alaric.
He raised an eyebrow at them. They responded with more laughter and continued playing.
How was this his life?
How could he have created two beautiful and intelligent children? A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He knew how.
And it had to be a Gryffindor. Again. It annoyed him to no end that the two women he had ever loved was both Gryffindors.
What did that say about him? A Slytherin through and through.
Although.
Choosing to become a double agent wasn’t really in line with strong sense of self-preservation, was it.
He clenched his jaw. Eyes still following his children.
Cunning and resourceful? Yes.
Ambitious? Not anymore.
The Gryffindors had rubbed off on him. Obviously.
He made a spectacular eyeroll that his wife would have chuckled at if she was here.
The thought of her made him take out his pocket watch from his robe.
She would be home soon.
A genuine smile spread on his face. There was no stopping it, lest he occluded. But he refrained from doing that. He wanted to feel everything around his wife and children. He owed it to them and to himself.
He let out a sigh.
Yes. The Gryffindor he loved had fundamentally and irrevocably changed him.
“Dadda, come!”
The voice of his daughter called to him and gestured for him to come join the puddle dance.
Absolutely not going to happen.
“Valeria Iris Snape. I think not.”
His son giggled at his sister and told her with an air of smugness:
“Dadda use all names.”
He saw is daughter stop moving about and a slight pout on her face. Snape had to stop himself from chuckling. This was a very typically thing for her to do. When she analysed or processed a new fact or trying to make sense of something she halted everything else. As if knowledge was the most valuable thing in the world.
He waited for the inevitable question. And sure enough, she asked it.
“Why?”
The chuckle he held back did escape.
Definitely a Ravenclaw, that girl.
“Because I like all your names. And I’m not changing my mind on the offer to jump in puddles.”
His son made a small noise, and he turned to look at him.
Snape knew that look. That smirk meant that his son was scheming.
Cunning and ambitious.
A snake.
And knowing Slytherin house well, he braced.
It didn’t help.
“Mama can help dadda.”
Snape closed his eyes for a second. He was in trouble now.
“Alaric Lucian Snape, whatever you a thinking of ─don’t.”
The voice of his wife rang out from behind him.
“Don’t what?”
She was home. He felt himself relax. Having them all close by felt like he could take a deep breath after holding it for too long.
He turned slightly so he could see her approach him.
“How is the Potion Professor today.”
“I’m fine, Severus.”
She stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his lips. His hand fell naturally at her hip. To steady her and to ground himself.
“How have your day been?”
Snape gestured to the children at her question before answering.
“Busy. And wet.”
She hummed. A happy little noise that filled with him with joy. His Slytherin cunning kicked in, wanting to distract her from her first question.
“No catastrophe, caldron melting or other incident with your fledgling disasters?”
She chuckled at that and winked up at him.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle, you know. I had a very competent and knowledgeable Potion Master when I took my mastery.”
“Indeed.”
His eyes met hers. They sparkled with mischief.
“But before you try to change the subject again, Sev. I do think our children wants us to join them.”
Before he could find an argument, she had cast an imperturbable spell over him. Her magic caressed him, warm and inviting, and she dragged him into the puddle dance.
Cheeky witch.
He couldn’t deny her anything. And judging by the self-satisfied smile on his son’s face, Alaric knew that too.
Snape was thankful nobody else witnessed it. Potter or Minerva would never let he live that down.
How was this his life?
Jumping and playing in the puddles with his family?
His eyes met the honeyed brown of Hermione’s.
It didn’t matter how he got here.
He loved his life.