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The chaos surrounding the final battle against Voldemort was beginning to die down and the wizarding world was returning to something approximating “normal” again – if you discounted the widespread loss of life. Something that Severus Snape was completely and utterly unable to do.

“Kill me like you killed him, you coward –“

“DON’T” screamed Snape “CALL ME COWARD!”

Was he a coward? Should he have stood up to Dumbledore or was he right about what needed to be done? Nothing that had happened since had illuminated Severus as to why Albus Dumbledore had decided that his death was necessary for success. The fact that they did eventually succeed didn’t halt Severus’ questioning of the decision, or of his – almost forced – aquiescence to the elder man’s demand.

Now, standing before the White Tomb, Severus had even less understanding of it all. He had torn the Dark Mark from his arm, in a fashion. When Harry had finally conquered Voldemort, it had been Severus that had trapped and destroyed that seemingly omnipotent soul. He still felt it’s presence every day though, no longer because of his guilt over past action or because of the ever present fear that he would be called back to Voldemort’s side for another round of “Prove you love me – Crucio”. He felt it’s presence because it was responsible, symbolically, for ripping from his life the one man who had made it possible for his last acts regarding Voldemort to have been light instead of dark. Responsible for it to be possible that he had done the ripping himself. He had killed Albus Dumbledore.

He didn’t know when he had fallen to his knees before the tomb and for this moment he was less concerned about his image that ever. It was unlikely that he would be seen, in the dark depths of the night. School was not something that was currently on the agenda of the wizarding world, it would be soon but for the moment the wizarding families were snuggled in their homes counting their live blessings and mourning their dead. But if there had been anyone to see him, he wouldn’t have cared.

He tried to refuse the tears, but as sobfree as he remained, the saltine droplets slid down his cheeks unchecked.

He leant forward and stuck his trowel deep into the earth at the base of the tomb. Smoothing it over with his bare and soiled palms, he checked that no-one would be able to tell that he had filled a herb pouch and desecrated Dumbledore’s resting place.

“Those are restricted texts”

The librarian of Esylania’s public library peered imperiously over her scant spectacles at him, her crowlike talons firmly melded to her skeletal hips. She reminded Severus of his mother, but he dismissed the notion with a barely suppressed shudder. Silently he passed her his credentials. She hissed briefly at the name but passed it back and tutted off on her way to annoy some other poor sod who might be interrupting the quiet calm of her desires. Severus went back to his books.

The hiss took more toll on Severus than others might have expected. The Ministry of Magic had “eventually” released documents filed with them by Dumbledore. As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, no-one had any just cause to doubt his word. The documents had been tested by every known (and secretly known) means, and had been proven to be true, just and genuine. The wizarding world knew the truth about Severus Snape. They knew he was much defiled. They knew his actions were, in law, the actions of Albus Dumbledore. They knew that Dumbledore had ordered him to kill him. But on the odd occasion when he allowed himself to be seen long enough to be recognised (damn the Daily Prophet and their war biography section), the revulsion and condemnation he briefly found in the eyes he avoided, ripped straight to his heart and bled him dry of hope. He was used to hate and preferred it to pity, but it still shrieked of misunderstanding. He had been quietly classed as a war hero, one who had acted above and beyond the call of duty, one who had helped to turn and win the war. The fact that he had been the one to ensure that Voldemort’s soul did not return was skated over, mumbled or plainly ignored. Oh, there were medals – but what the fuck use were medals? He would be more bitter about it if he didn’t agree with them, the same revulsion and condemnation met him every morning in the mirror.

So here he was, researching borderline forbidden texts and planning to do the unthinkable. One more journey to the dark side.

He snuck a look for the motherish dragon. She was hovering by some blonde haired teenager who was chewing on a “library-property” quill, in case he made some mark on the prized text. My God, it was a Lockhart text – not really worth the protective tutting. But Severus took his chance, slipped the book beneath his robes and swept out, dousing the library’s anti-theft charms as he went. He didn’t bother to put them back up. Maybe the damn spotty oik would pilfer the Lockhart book and save countless children from such brain-damaging nonsense.

Diagon and Knockturn Alley were even more uncharacteristically quiet than usual. Many shops were still closed; some of their proprietors were no longer around to “open up”, some were too distraught at their personal losses to care and some were black blinded out of respect for the dead (and some thought it looked better than opening up regardless – but who was he to comment?). The shop that Severus was headed for would not be closed though. His intimate knowledge of the persons proprieting down this predictably shady street informed him that this particular shopkeeper would make profit from anything – Severus wouldn’t put it past him to return as a ghost and sell tickets to his own funeral.

He was not disappointed. Utilis Fungor almost slithered over the counter, his eyes immediately penetrating to Severus’ core. He laughed, although it sounded more like a fat muggle wheezing asthmatically through mucus-ridden lungs. Severus didn’t move, he didn’t even need to speak – Utilis sloughed around his shelves gathering ingredients into a small wooden crate. After an interminable period he slid the crate onto the counter and raised lice-infested eyebrows to indicate that Severus should check the contents. Severus checked, nodded and waited as the occulematic creature chewed on his yellowing tongue – apparently an important aid to addition. He rung up a figure on the till and Severus paid the extremely extortionate quantity of galleons to the shopkeeper who charged – not by item value – but by silence value. Utilis mentally read your shopping list but he also read “why”.

Breaking into the empty silent Hogwarts was nowhere near as difficult as the Ministry of Magic might have supposed. They left the restoration of the school and it’s re-opening to it’s temporary headmistress, but they took on defence of the vacant property themselves. Therefore, although the wards were almost as strong as they were when Dumbledore was there – there were many things about Hogwarts that they were not to know.

Severus exited the tunnel under the Whomping Willow for the second time that week and ran for his life. He again managed to avoid the thrashing flora and made his way up to the castle. Severus was not, however, the only one to know about Hogwarts secrets and curious eyes followed his progress across to the castle before following him.

It stung Severus to know that the confectionery password to Dumbledore’s office had not changed. Minerva had not changed it when the school broke up for the holidays and the school had been empty since. The house elves had remained for a while, but three months after the war Hermione Granger had snuck back through the same passageway and explained to them that as there was no-one else in the castle, that made her their sole master and then she gave them all socks, all embroidered with the SPEW logo (Molly really shouldn’t have taught her to knit). With no-one in the castle to look after and no Dumbledore to feel beholden to, they fled for their never-desired freedom and left the castle empty. Hermione left feeling smug and vindicated, unaware of what she left Hogwarts open to, Severus doubted that she would object – to either of the anticipated results.

Severus scaled the staircase and Dumbledore’s study opened up for him, almost as if reading his intentions. He was shocked to find Fawkes still there, how on earth was he feeding himself? He absently petted the bird as he retrieved the last of his ingredients – a phoenix feather.

Sweeping back the furniture with a flick of his wand, Severus poured a precise circle of salt onto the floor around him and after removing his robes he sat cross-legged and naked on the floor. This was not his forte, but it was dark enough for him to excel at it. This would succeed.

He took up the silver athame from the selection of objects which he had laid out before him. There was a brief rush of air from behind, forcing him to check over his shoulder. There was nothing there, he assumed that the elements were making themselves known in his working. This was new to him; he may have worked with the dead but he had never raised them himself before.

One diagonal cut across his palm and he was tracing the necessary symbols in his own blood inside the circle. He placed Dumbledore’s wand in the centre – blood slicked and solitary. The phoenix feather, he stuck to his chest, over his heart with an “Adheren” charm. Then began the ritual in earnest. He mixed the contents of three different vials on the floor in front of him, covering the wand. Steam rose, then fire, then steam again and he starting his chanting.

“Incidere per vicis” (Cut through time)

Steam filled the room

“Tutis phasmatis” (Secure the spirit)

The sounds of the battle in the tower returned to haunt Severus Snape. He closed his ears to the torturous sounds and continued.

“EGO dedi meus vitualamen” (I offer my sacrifice)

The steam receded and blood seeped from his chest from beneath the phoenix feather. He heard an indrawn breath and assuming it was his own, he tried to control his breathing better.

“Meus vita pro suus vita” (my life for his life)

Severus felt his body become frozen, Petrificus Totalis unspoken – yet also unfalling, he remained upright and capable of speech.

“Restituo mage” (restore the mage)

Severus sealed his ritual with a mental flick of his wand, being physically incapable of wielding it he hoped that this would suffice.

He sucked in his breath as one of the symbols he had invoked rose up and became Goddess – naked, present and solid before his eyes. He briefly and inappropriately thanked the other Gods that he was gay or the meeting might have been more than a little embarrassing. She was astonishingly beautiful.

“For fuck’s sake, has there not been enough death already?”

Aradia, White Goddess, supreme female amongst all Pagan gods, purest symbol of magic swore at Severus, put her hands on her naked hips and frowned at him. He was more than bemused, this was not at all what he had expected. In the (hopefully not) unlikely event that this succeeded, Severus had expected to have his life swiftly taken in exchange for Dumbledore’s resurrection. That is what all the texts stated, that was the sacrifice demanded of him. Well, technically it didn’t have to be his life, but that was what he was most comfortable with. Now, here was the supreme Goddess, naked, defiant and arguing with him. He was completely non-plussed.

“W-w-w-w-what?” he eventually stammered out.

Aradia took a step forward and surveyed the scene, she ran a finger through the already congealing blood on Severus’ chest and looked frighteningly like Molly Weasley in a laundry-frenzy. She didn’t however ask him how he managed to get through so many socks or why his boxers were always left inside his trousers (he knew he had spent too much time skulking and listening to other people’s conversations!) – instead she knelt in front of him, eyebrows knotted and seemed to be appraising what kind of man he was. Severus waited, breath held and hoping that he wouldn’t turn blue before she spoke again.

When she spoke again, her voice was surprisingly soft.

“There has been enough death.” Her statements held no room for disagreement, it was not an opinion, merely a fact.

“There has been enough loss. Not merely of life, but also of opportunities. It is not the time for more loss, even if it is offered in trade. It is time for life to breath again, to breed again. This ritual demands an offering of life and that cannot be changed, but I do not accept your life as forfeit for this action.”

Severus would have moved, would have grabbed hold of the deity and shaken her, explained how his life was worth nothing, how Dumbledore’s was worth anything – but he couldn’t. She had taken speech from him too for the moment and he could do nothing but sit frozen and listen.

“I demand a life.” she stated simply. “But the balance between living and dead is already out of kilter and I cannot take another life from this world, not even in replacement of another. My price is this; You will bear life. I will make it possible for this to occur. You will conceive a child, bear it to term and birth it. You will raise the child in the light, it will be a beacon by which others set the store of their behaviour. This child will not be taken from you, will not be given away, will never be subject to the darkness which you have endured, it will be loved. Bear this child and I will fulfil my obligation to this ritual. Do you accept?”

Severus felt the magical restraints around him relax. He never even thought about the proposition before answering.

“Yes”

Severus was running. He had paused long enough to dress and now he was running. The Whomping Willow was in sight and his mind was racing.

A child. He felt the change as he responded to Aradia’s offer. Something fuzzy and warm spread across his insides and he knew that he was now able to conceive and carry a child. He did not permit himself a single “Why me?” as he sprinted across the grass. He wanted to outrun the situation he now found himself in. He had been completely prepared to die for Dumbledore, had been expecting it for years, almost felt that it was required of him – but this? He didn’t know what to think or feel or do? How was he supposed to do this?

“SEVERUS! WAIT!”

If it was possible to freeze whilst still running, that is what Severus did then. Who the fuck..........

He felt himself grappled to the ground. He turned furiously, instinct taking over and grabbed him assailant by the throat, twisting him to the weaker position beneath him.

“Wait!” Remus Lupin weakly repeated.

Severus released him and sat back on his haunches as Lupin rubbed his neck and gained a more upright position himself.

“What?” he said eventually - finding himself non-plussed for the second time in less than an hour.

Lupin stared at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked at length.

Severus Snape faultered for a moment and physically forced his old habits to restore themselves. He managed a weak sneer.

“What does that have to do with you werewolf?” he rasped.

Lupin shook his head in disbelief.

“I was there Severus.” he stated bluntly, “I saw and heard everything. H-harry left his invisibility cloak here when it came to the final battle, there wasn’t time to retrieve it and I came back to get it. I needed to get out of the house.” he offered lamely in explanation of why the cloak needed retrieving. “I saw you come out from the Whomping Willow and followed you, under the cloak.” Lupin stopped speaking and waited for Snape to say something, to say anything. He had followed all the reports, and yes the titillating biographies in the Daily Prophet. He had read that Severus had been exonerated from blame. He had also read about everything (reported) that Severus had had to go through over the years. His eyes held no condemnation and although Severus saw pity there, it was not pity so much as deep sorrow and shame that lay in Remus Lupin’s eyes. Other actions may have preceeded more important events, but he had deliberately and also unwittingly added to all that Severus Snape had had to deal with over the years. He sat facing him on the wet grass, full of a compassion and understanding that Severus had never known, and “almost” refused to recognise.

Severus didn’t respond. Remus saw him try to curl a sneer. Watched as his eyebrows tried to rise in contempt and fell again, failing. Severus was wrung out, emotionally flailing and totally lost in circumstances of his own forging. Remus leant forward and brushed his damp hair from his face – when did it start raining?

“Are you really going to do this?” Remus asked at last.

Severus met his eyes again and tried to speak, it was becoming increasingly difficult to function.

“What else am I supposed to do?”

Remus cradled Severus’ face in one hand and wrapped the other around his shoulder, pulling him into a consoling embrace.

“Accept his death?”

“How can I? I killed him!”

“That was his choice.” Remus had hated Severus for what he had done, but he was long past those feelings. In the three months since Voldemort’s demise he had had a lot of emotions to deal with. So many people had been lost, and so many close to him had been spared. Severus’ apparent betrayal and Dumbledore’s apparent murder had not been the all of it, but for Remus it had certainly been the worst of it. So when the truth about the situation had been revealed he had quite literally sighed with relief. Severus had been an arsehole to everyone he knew, but there were reasons and explanations. He had caused pain, but he had received pain – far more than any other living being in this war. Remus accepted what had happened.

Severus didn’t. That was his right.

“I could have refused.”

“Could you?”

“No”

“Then....”

“I CANNOT live with this. It is too much.”

Remus felt the shudder that ran through his almost friend, once colleague, wished lover and was horrified by what it meant.

“You wanted to die, didn’t you?”

“Yes”

“Why?”

Severus pulled away from the comfort of the embrace.

“What have I to live for? My death would do more good than my life, but even that is denied me. Anyway, who would care?” Remus thought he could see the moonlight reflecting off tears on Severus’ cheeks. One thing he never questioned was what the moonlight showed him. Unwelcome as he felt it might be, he reached up a hand and brushed away the tears.

“I would care!”

Severus didn’t respond at all. Remus pulled him back into the embrace and wondered what to do next. Severus had made a promise to a goddess. He had agreed to bear life, to become pregnant. Remus wasn’t sure what to make of it all, but he knew that Severus would not break his word and some part of him knew that this night of holding close the one he had never dared to claim would lead him to places that he had never imagined.

Severus awoke in his bed at Snape Manor. The last thing he remembered was...

...Lupin!

He groaned and sat up.

Nothing seemed unusual as he dressed and made his way out of his room. He chose to push last night’s events to the back of his mind for the time being and concentrated on the anomaly of ending up in his own bed – how had Lupin managed to get past the wards?

Remus Lupin howled. The only time in his entire life, including childhood, that he had ever howled whilst in human form. He continued howling until Snape’s house elves came rushing down to the gate armed with flaming torches and Snapish scowls – how long exactly had they worked for the Snape family?

They could have argued, but as the werewolf was carrying an emotionally and physically exhausted and obviously unconscious “Master Severus” there really was little they could do. They let him in.

Severus had no idea that Remus was the one who cleaned the blood from him. No idea that Remus was the one who undressed him and “tucked him in”. No idea that Remus refused the offer of one of the dozens of spare beds and slept outside Severus’ door all night on a chaise lounge.

That was until Severus opened his bedroom door in the morning to see the sleeping werewolf clinging to the chair and snoring.

Severus hissed in his breath and prepared to ball out his one time enemy. Then he looked again, with the lustful eyes of his youth and with the embarrassing memory of the previous night.

He knelt beside the sleeping form and indulged himself by running the back of his hand along the sleeping man’s jaw. Severus was far from reviled by the stubbly growth on the man’s face, he was never one to want his sensations “smoothed”. He allowed himself a smile.

“I thought you might hit me” Remus murmured. Severus edged back a little. Remus grabbed his hand and moved it back to his cheek.

“Don’t” he said, “don’t back away from me now.” There was a pleading yet commanding tone to his voice. Severus looked at the floor.

“Lupin...”

Remus swung his legs down to the floor and grasped Severus’ face between his hands.

“I stayed up most of the night thinking about this Severus.”

Severus refused to meet his eyes. Remus cupped his chin and made him look at him. He had been about to expound on his thinking but instead he leant forward and kissed Severus. First tentatively and gently, then more firmly and passionately. Severus resisted slightly but Remus held him firm and he gave up his pretences and leant into the kiss. Remus parted Severus’ resisting lips with his tongue and that was all it took to have the other man melt into his embrace. Severus devoured him with a passion that no-one had ever known was there.

As they broke away from the kiss, for air if for anything else, Severus’ gaze immediately reverted to the floor. Remus again lifted his chin and sought his eyes until Severus could no longer deny the connection.

“Severus, what you promised last night..”

“I don’t want to discuss it!” Severus rose and began to make his way down the staircase.

“Severus!” Remus called after him, a little indignantly. “For Gods’ sake Severus! Have you thought about this at all?”

Severus swung round on Remus as he reached the bottom of the staircase.

“I made a deal. It cannot be reneged upon. I regret that you overheard but...”

“But what Severus? It isn’t as if you can do this alone, is it?”

Severus froze. He really hadn’t given the technicalities of this deal much thought. He had committed himself to resurrecting Dumbledore and that had been the promise that was demanded, he had agreed. Remus’s observation was a new consideration. What did he intend anyway? Was he offering to father this child? If so, why?

“I don’t understand!”

Remus sighed. He hadn’t actually gotten any sleep. When Severus had found him, he had been asleep for maybe half an hour. The rest of the night he had sat up, first watching Severus sleep and then outside the door contemplating the ”technicalities” of Severus’ deal. Severus would go through with this; he would get pregnant by whatever means it took, he would have a baby and by the terms of the agreement he would keep and raise that baby. By doing this he would also bring Dumbledore back to life. Remus’ mind boggled at the magnitude of what Severus was doing, but it wasn’t a plan to be contested – the deal was made, Severus had accepted. Severus had to become a mother. That necessitated a father. Remus thought about the options that Severus had to achieve that and all of them, bar one, ended up with Severus getting fucked in a variety of seedy to plush locations – once. All the options were empty valueless one night stands orchestrated purely for the purposes of getting Severus pregnant. But this wasn’t merely a pregnancy, this would be a life, a child, a person. This would be Severus’ child.

There were options, but Remus knew what he wanted now. If Severus was to have a child, if there was truly to be a life growing inside Severus Snape – then Remus wanted it to be his.

“Let me help.” it was feeble and it didn’t encompass anything that he wanted to tell Severus, but it was simple and the meaning was plain. Remus held out his hand and refused to break eye contact. Severus haltingly took the offered hand.

The bedroom door closed. On house elves, on breakfast, on any other kind of reality.

“Remus, have you..” Remus closed his mouth over Severus’ and halted the question. Of course he knew what he was doing. He had dreamt about it for years, not that he was about to say that – yet.

Severus thankfully didn’t refuse him. His tongue was as eager and as passionate as Remus’. The two men stood, locked together in their embrace, tasting each other. Remus slid Severus’ robe off his shoulders, thankful that he didn’t bother with all those ridiculous buttons in private. Pushing him back onto the bed he managed to pull Severus’ simple shirt off his shoulders and was already unbuckling his own belt. They fought to keep their lips together, mouths hungry and devouring each other. Severus got his shirt off the rest of the way and tackled Remus trousers, Remus kicked them off. It was mere moments before they were naked in each other’s embrace. Remus pushed away thoughts of the previous night, guilty that Severus’ naked ritual had aroused him. Severus lay on the bed beneath him and it occurred to him for the first time that to “make it possible” might have meant significant alterations to Severus’ physical form. Remus ran a tentative hand along his lover’s thigh, Severus arched into the contact. Remus ran his fingers through the coarse black hair and gently stroked round Severus’ cock and balls. He ran his fingers along his perineum, no significant changes then. He smiled into another kiss and pushed his lover’s legs apart with his knees.

Severus gasped as Remus’ lips left his own and trailed down his neck, first licking round each sensitive nipple and then continuing their journey down past his navel. Licks and nips tickling his rarely touched skin as they mapped a passionate path to his groin. When Remus tongue licked along the underside of his cock, Severus nearly jumped through the ceiling. It had been SO long and oh myyyyyyyyyy God. Remus licked and kissed along the length of his shaft, he was leaking long before the hot mouth took the head inside – so soft, so erotic, so unfathomably perfect. Remus slid down the length of Severus’ cock. He wasn’t sure he could take it all, but as his lips connected with those dark hairs he groaned around his mouthful in satisfaction. He sucked deep, and as Severus arched and groaned he began to move back and forth – sliding his lips and stroking his tongue along the shaft until he had only the tip inside his mouth and then sweeping back along the length, taking Severus deep into his throat. Severus grasped the bedcovers and moaned deeply. This was not the first blow job Remus had ever given, but it was the first time he had ever relished every second of giving one. He stepped up his pace, taking it all in and releasing it, running his tongue along the underside. Severus was panting uncontrollably. Remus slid one finger into his mouth alongside Severus’ cock and then inserted it, swiftly but gently inside Severus. He immediately connected with the prostate and Severus came – shudderingly and loudly. Remus swallowed as Severus emptied himself into his mouth and sucked and licked the softening cock as his lover shuddered through his climax. Remus smiled wickedly as he again took Severus’ mouth, allowing him to taste himself. If he thought that was amazing...

There was no need for lubrication. Severus was not a virgin and he was already more than moist. Remus had never been more hard. He knew that there was some purpose to this, but that was not the only reason that it was happening and he was fairly certain that Severus was thinking about things other than fulfilling his promise right now. Grabbing two handfuls of buttocks, he raised him slightly and with one sleek movement entered him face to face and buried himself up to the very hilt in Severus Snape. Severus cried out, more passion than he had allowed himself in most of his adult life, not a passion that he could hide from. He wrapped his arms and legs around Remus and pushed his lover’s cock deeper inside himself. He wanted more, deeper, faster, harder and Remus gave it to him. Remus made love to him, Remus fucked him senseless. Pulling out to the edge of reason, pausing and thrusting back inside deeper and deeper with each thrust. Severus thought his senses could stand no more, he had pins and needles across his face and in all his limbs, he was screaming with joy, wanting more and not knowing if he could take it. Neither man had ever known a deeper joy, a deeper connection, a better orgasm. Remus’ rose steadily towards a climax that he knew would surpass all others and Severus came again and again and again as Remus’ cock swept in and out of him. Severus finally called out Remus’ name, screaming with joy and that did it for the werewolf – he came, deep gushing streams of hot cum deep inside his lover and Severus came again as he felt the hot thick liquid spill into him.

Severus woke in his bed at Snape Manor. The last thing he could remember was....

...Remus.

Sticky, sweaty and deliriously happy in a moment that contained nothing other than the two men and their feelings for each other. Remus stirred and wove his hands around the darker man’s neck, pulling him into another kiss. Severus was beyond the capacity to ever even try to refuse – he pushed one leg between those of his lover and coiled himself around him like a snake.

They went back to sleep. When they awoke for the second time, daylight was streaming brightly mid-dayish through the arched leaded window. A house elf hurriedly deposited tea and croissants on the bedside table and ran away. Smiling, they gathered themselves together and brought the late breakfast tray onto the bed. With a mouthful of croissant, Remus remembered how this had all begun in the first place. He looked at Severus and raised one eyebrow.

“So,” he said with a mouthful of bread product, “do you reckon we hit the spot?” The eyebrow waggled comically.

Severus looked vaguely embarrassed and buried his face in his tea cup. He mumbled something.

Remus looked amused, “Sorry darling, I didn’t catch a word of that”

Severus put the cup down and looked intensely serious.

“There is only one way to find out.” He repeated.

Remus looked quizzical for a moment and then sprang into action. Completely naked and not remotely bothered about it, he crossed the room and retrieved his wand. Severus lay back, exposing his stomach and Remus pointed the wand.

“Ostendo sum gravida” (Reveal pregnancy)

Severus Snape sucked in his breath as a bright blue mist settled across his currently flat belly.

“Wow” Remus chuckled.

“That would be an understatement” gawped Snape, then in a moment of weakness said, “Oh wow” himself.

Remus had returned to Hogwarts with Severus, he wasn’t sure what help he could be but he felt that as the father of this baby he really ought to go too. Severus didn’t object, in fact Severus took his hand and moved as close as possible to the father of his baby, a movement that Remus had absolutely no problem with at all.

Aradia smiled to see two naked men in the circle awaiting her, she really hadn’t expected this – but she could see that they were not to be separated and that pleased her immensely. She agreed that the bargain was fulfilled and made two declarations. One; that she would fulfil her promise and restore Dumbledore and two; that Severus would retain the ability to conceive children for the rest of his life.

Remus and Severus would probably have reacted to the latter proclamation if Aradia had not promptly disappeared and been immediately replaced by a very much alive and very much amused Albus Dumbledore.

“My dear boys. Would you like a sherbet lemon?”

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