Chapter 13 : EPILOGUE
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And Thanks so much to Diandra for being my beta and reviewing every single chapter of this story.
EPILOGUE: Fifteen years later.
Severus sat on the dragon skin couch and pinched his nose bridge between his thumb and index finger. He looked at the blond woman ahead of him. He was told that she was the best in England but so far he had no success with her. It was said she had a calming effect on clients and they opened up to her easily but so far he only managed to get his name out. It was impossible.
She took her glasses off her face and cleaned it with a soft cloth and looked at Severus as he leaned against the back of the couch. She placed it back on her face and adjusted it on her nose. “Now Professor, we have been at this for four months, perhaps it’s time you start talking.”
“Well, we have talked, haven’t we?”
She sighed in frustration. “Perhaps I should make myself clearer. We need to start talking about you. It doesn’t concern me that William Winchester is being kept back for a third consecutive year or if Mrs. Hospedales wrote you scolding letter because her son is dating Hera Huggins… what I want to know about is you and how you are dealing with life.”
He scoffed. “I am fine, hence the reason why it confuses me to the 9th degree why these unpleasant sessions have been imposed on me.”
“With all due respect Headmaster, I will have to strongly disagree with you. To the outside world you are fine, but to your son and your co-workers, you are not fine.”
“Did Junior say something to you?”
“Sorry but I can’t discuss that…. This is about you Severus.”
She adjusted her glasses on her nose bridge and looked at him again. Severus read her countenance carefully. The last thing he wanted was for his behaviour to affect his son in anyway. He had a lifetime of horrible memories because his parents placed all their hate for each other on him; he was not going to let his emotions about Nymphadora affect him… not ever. He was Junior’s father; it was his job to make his life easier, not miserable. He had already been through so much the last thing he wanted to do was to compound the situation by making him worry. He had to get through this, for his sake and for Dora’s. “Okay, Miss Aralias, what is it that you want to know?”
She looked taken aback for a moment. “Are you serious?” she asked incredulously.
He rolled his eyes and shifted his position in the couch. “Do I strike you as a man who is in a position to tell jokes?”
He could see her startled pale blue eyes from behind her glasses. “Okay Professor, you can start by telling me about Nymphadora.”
“What about her,” he asked avoiding eye contact.
“What was she like?”
He looked out the window at the cloudy London sky and sighed. “Perfect,” he whispered.
“In everything she did, all the time, when she was here, when she’s not here… she just was. I never thought there would be someone who was so….perfect.”
“All the time… she never had an imperfection.”
“Even her imperfections… they were perfect… perfect for helping me becoming the man I needed to be for her, perfect for helping me heal… just perfect. You asked me to tell you what she was like and when I tell you, you doubt me.”
She held her hands up to calm him a bit. He knew he was always on the edge whenever someone threatened to speak ill about his wife. “I’m not questioning your memory of her; I’m just trying to get to root of the problem.”
“I think we all know what the problem is.” He said sarcastically.
“Tell me,” she said calmly.
Severus could hear the scratching of a quill on a scroll somewhere but he didn’t let it bother him. “The problem is that she’s dead.”
Miss Aralias adjusted her glasses again on her face. “Is that really the problem Severus?”
“Of course it is.”
“Is it that she’s dead… or is it that she didn’t let you save her?”
His heart stopped in his chest. There was something to those statements. “And how was I to do that?” he asked. “You know how she died, do you think she would have gone for the alternative.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know Severus, you tell me; you’re the one who was married to her. Help me to know her, tell me what you really felt about her.”
He squinted his eyes. “What I really felt…I think its obvious how I felt.”
“I know you loved her dearly, but tell me how you think she felt about you. Do you think she loved you as much as you loved her?”
This question was making him feel nauseous. He got up from the chair and began to look around the room for his travelling cloak. “I don’t have time for this,” he complained.
“Please sit,” she said hastily. “Just tell me… How was your wedding night?”
He turned around to look at her. He hated people who assumed they could tell him something about himself. She thought she knew about him and Nymphadora but in reality she knew nothing. “What you just asked me sealed the fact that you are a grossly over paid fraud.”
“It’s a simple question.”
“No, it’s a ridiculous insinuation.”
“Then answer it.”
He slammed his body back on the firm couch. “It was perfect.”
“Good,” she said sitting up. “What else… tell me what happened?”
They laid side by side on the large bed, looking at each other. Nymphadora was still in her white dress and he still in his black tuxedo. She looked at him and giggled a bit, covering her face. “I can’t believe we’re married.”
He was thinking that same thing. He couldn’t begin to process the events that led to this. Four years before, he had been convinced that he would never find happiness in anything, that his life was destined to be spent alone and miserable. Yet, here he was, with a beautiful woman next to him; his wife… there were no ‘if’s, ands, ‘but’s or ‘maybe’s… she was his. There was no James Potter in the picture. It was just him and his wife. He had been wondering how on earth he’d become so lucky. Seeing her, looking like a perfect portrait and knowing that it was all for him….
She reached her soft hands to the side of his neck and rested two fingers. “That’s odd,” she said.
“What?” he asked, slightly afraid that something was going to go wrong.
“You have a pulse,” she said.
He was certain that he was missing something. “What?” he asked again.
She shrugged. “I was convinced that you would have died an hour ago, and yet you’re still living.”
“What?” he asked again feeling like a broken record.
“Well the way you used to act. I was convinced that you would have drop dead if you danced. Yet you danced two dances and you’re still alive.”
He sighed. “Not well, I might add.”
She laughed. “Modest aren’t we. Severus you have been holding out on me. Now that I know you can, you’ll have to dance with me at least once a week.”
“Once a week,” he said in alarm. “Why on earth would I want to do that?”
She sat up and looked down at him. She smiled and ran her fingers playfully through his black hair. “Because you will be rewarded handsomely. It took every bit to restraint not to pull you aside today and find some corner where we could be alone.”
He smirked in amusement. “In that case I’m afraid I’ll need some sort of bonus for those two dances that were rather hard on machismo and overall image.”
Severus sat at his desk with his quill on the paper. He had been trying for some time to write a letter to Mrs. Hospedales, telling her that he does not interfere with the relationships his students choose to have, unless it is his own son. However, he couldn’t concentrate. For the rest of the day he had been thinking about his session with Ms. Aralias. Something she said stuck out with him. He couldn’t get over that fact that she mentioned something about his son. For along time he took comfort in pretending that the situation was not affecting his son, but he couldn’t do that any longer. It wasn’t helpful to anyone involved. He had to face the fact that his behaviour was dysfunctional and even though Junior was ten, he was smart enough to know exactly what was going on.
Severus sighed in resignation and rolled up the parchment. He knew he would not be able to get any work done for the rest of the night.
Instead he slipped on a robe over his nightshirt and made his way to the door of his office. He hoped that by the time he woke up the following morning, he would have a clearer idea of how to tackle the situation.
Even though he was the headmaster and his sleeping quarters were separate from the others, he never liked it much there. Something of the room reminded him too much of its former occupants and he never took to it. It felt like the ghost of Albus Dumbledore was wondering the room all the time. Nymphadora always tried to convince him to move out of the dungeons but that was one battle she could never win. He just couldn’t face the room where a man he killed once lived. Of course he was asked to kill him, but it always hurt him deeply that Dumbledore had put him in that position. It was a painfully difficult decision to make, but in the end it had to be made. In the end, he had to show the ultimate amount of strength and courage to do something that he didn’t want to do for the greater good. He hoped that he would never be faced with such a dilemma again.
“So Professor tell me about your relationship, after the marriage.”
“It was perfect.”
Miss Aralias looked sternly at him. “Now you seem to have one word for everything… try another.”
He rolled his eyes. “Flawless.”
She let out a heavy sigh and took off her glasses. “Tell me… did you two ever argue?”
He pressed his lips together in concentration. “All the time,” he said plainly.
She held up both hands. “That’s what I’m talking about. How can that be interpreted as perfect?”
He sneered. “The fighting wasn’t perfect but we made up perfectly afterwards, which I think was the reason for the fighting in the first place.”
“You fought to make up?” she asked quizzically.
“Well making up was always… extremely rewarding.”
She put the glasses back on the face and let it hang off her nose slightly. She looked at him with her piecing blue eyes from beyond the specs. “What was the longest fight you had?”
He searched his memory. “A year or so…”
“A Year?” she asked in interest.
“It was an ongoing thing, we took a while to work it out but we did in the end.”
“What was it about?”
“Work,” he said calmly.
She sat up excitedly, thinking that she got something. “Whose work?”
“Why?” he asked pressingly.
He shrugged. “I didn’t want her do it.”
“It was too dangerous. Do you think a man likes the idea of his wife lying petrified in some dark alley?”
“And what did she say… Tell me about this argument, how did it start?”
Severus laid awake watching the second hand tick away slowly. Sometimes he thought that she had deceived him. Something he thought that she purposely convinced him to take the offer to be headmaster so he wouldn’t be her boss anymore. She must have known that if she was working for him, he would never have let her out. He would never have her on duty this hour of the night, hunting down some crazed dark wizard, in the name of society or whatever it was she believed she was fighting for. It was just wasn’t worth it. The world was full of chaos out there, and a young Auror was a desirable target. Everyone who wanted to make some sort of a point would target her. Didn’t she know how dangerous it was to be the wife of the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the man who helped Harry Potter take down Voldemort? She had a big red target on her back.
Most of the times, he was sick with worry about her. He could only sleep if he knew she was safe and sound, next to him, where he could protect her. He had entertained the idea of quitting the school and going back to the Auror office but she was strongly against it. She thought he was being unreasonable and assured him that she would be fine. This was hardly a comfort to him. Every time he heard about some incident that befell one of her colleagues he would always ponder on how easily it could have been her. The only comfort he had was the fact that she was in the same team with Harry, who seemed to be blessed with some sort of divine protection. Nothing could harm him and with any luck, some of that protection was probably passed on to her. But all the same… he wanted his wife home.
He was just about to throw a fit and head down to the Auror office himself when he heard the fireplace in his room start up. He decided to pretend he was asleep since she was always highly offended by the idea that he couldn’t sleep because he was so worried. When she came through the fire place, he gave himself the countenance of a man who had just been disturbed from a rather peaceful slumber.
He sat up slowly. “Oh, are you home then.”
She sighed a bit and smiled. “Sorry I woke you.”
She walked over to him and gave him a quick peck on his lips. Instead of letting her escape he held on to her hands. “How was work today? Did anything interesting happen?”
She smiled again. “Only this complete wanker was hurling poison stingers at us when we raided his resurrection ritual.”
“Resurrection ritual, what the hell is that?”
She shrugged, “No idea, but we got word of some disturbing activities in a graveyard upsetting the Muggles. We were a bit starved for work so we decided to check it out. So we Apparated there, then the next thing we knew, he was hurling these pointy little stingers at us. One got me on my neck,” she said animatedly, showing where, “and I started to feel a bit woozy, but Harry, gods bless him, always walks with bezoars and things like that in a little sack.”
“So you were poisoned?” he asked, trying to keep his calm.
“I think so,” she said calmly. “Kind of cool when you think about it.”
“I’m sorry; I missed the part that was ‘cool’”
She sat on the bed now, sensing it would be a rather long conversation. “Well I was a bit worried at first but its funny how things always work out in the end.”
He took her hand and pressed it between his. “Aren’t you tired of it?”
She shook her head and laughed lightly. “Not really; it’s exciting to me.”
He looked down at their hands together; his thumb was rubbing the back of her hand slightly. “It’s not to me.” he whispered.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, you just have to learn to trust me and my abilities.”
“I do trust you; I just thought you’d be over this phase by now.”
“Phase,” she repeated. “Wanting to help people is not a phase Severus.”
“I know it isn’t. But there are other ways you can help people…. less dangerous ways.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you have it all worked out.”
He sat up. “In fact I do… Slughorn, I suspect will want to retire any day now, and I’ll be in need of a Potions teacher.”
“You think I should teach,” she said laughing.
“You’d be good at it. Besides, there’s no need to worry about it.”
“I’m not worried about if I’d be good or not…. But me… teach? It’s a bit boring for me.”
“Boring… maybe you need too much excitement… its not all what it’s cracked up to be. Trust me… sometimes life calls for a little boredom.”
“So I’m just supposed to take your experiences and consider them my own?”
He shook his head, knowing that he was upsetting her. “No I just think you might be limiting the idea of what it could be like.”
“You mean it would be something other than boring?” she asked.
“Well we could have a baby, that wouldn’t be boring.”
Her eyes opened wide and she pulled back from him. He didn’t blame her; he too was surprised that those words had left his mouth. He never ever for one second prior to that considered having children. The idea seemed terrifying to her. “A baby, is that what you want?”
“Maybe,” he said.
“Maybe it’s not so much that you want one but just that you want to keep me here all day where you can keep an eye on me.”
“No,” he said. “I have been thinking about it lately… and I am clearly not getting any younger…I’m forty four years old.” He was telling a massive lie, of course, but he had to tell her something.
“And I’m twenty nine,” she whispered.
He raised his brow.
“I’m not ready to have children,” she said looking down at his hands. “In fact I’m not sure I want children.”
For the moment they sat quietly thinking about the fact that their age difference was actually affecting them for the first time. When they got married they made no illusions on how difficult it was going to be. This was not a problem they foresaw. Of course Severus never wanted to have children before until that very moment.
“Dad… can I ask you question?” Junior asked cautiously.
Severus looked at his son, who was remarkably similar to himself, except for the fact that his hair was blond. It was odd because he was not a metamorphous like his mother, yet his hair was a shade of platinum blond that neither of them had. Nymphadora used to tease Severus and say that she had somehow managed to make his and Narcissa’s child. But even though Severus Augustus Snape Jr. did not look like a child he and Nymphadora would produce, he did inherit all her moods and animations.
He took the stack of opened envelops from him and began to sign each one in his own signature. “Of course,” he said.
“Do you hate her?” he whispered.
Severus stopped writing in the middle of his name. “Who?” he asked his son. Junior looked remarkably uncomfortable with the question.
“Dora,” he whispered, not looking at him.
His heart stopped for a moment when he heard the name escape from the child’s lips. “No, I don’t ever want you think that?”
“It’s just that you won’t see her… and she’s so big now dad… and she can do all sorts of tricks, she changes her face to match who ever she sees….” The boy stopped mid-sentence.
Severus rested his quill down and looked at his son. “Soon, I’ll see her soon.”
“Why is this taking long?” Severus asked Ms. Aralias the following day.
“I’m going at your pace not mine Professor.”
Severus sucked his teeth and looked out the window. For a moment he could only hear the sound of her voice asking him another question totally irrelevant to fact that he could not stand the thought of looking at or holding his own daughter.
“So tell me about your first child… how soon into the marriage did Severus come along.”
“Five years,” he said flatly.
“Where you happy,” asked him.
He turned his attention away from the window and London and back to her. “Very.”
“Severus, I’ve been thinking for a while and I realised you were right,” Nymphadora said while she was looking at her reflection in the mirror.
“About what?” he asked although the idea that she admitted he was right about something was quite intriguing to him.
“That perhaps my work is too dangerous,” she said, looking at him in the mirror and not his actual self.
He smirked a little, although he didn’t quite understand where this sudden change in perspectives was coming from. “What are you saying,” he asked cautiously.
She turned away from her reflection and got up from the chair and walked over to him. “You know how I’ve been coming home early lately?” He nodded. She sat on the desk where he was answering his letters. He pointed out the obvious fact that she was sitting on his work that included some important letters and she just laughed slighty.
“What’s gotten into you,” he asked eyeing her suspiciously. “You have been fighting me on this all year and now suddenly I’m right?”
She nodded. “At first I just thought I could work in house for a bit…”
“You’re being housed, why?”
“So I can come home earlier, isn’t that what you want?”
He nodded, trying to pull a letter from the governors from under her bum.
“But it turns out that I can’t stand the place and it’s making me nauseous and my doctor thinks that I should take it slow for a while.”
“Wait… are you ill?” he said, finally giving up on getting any work done, since she was so determined to distract him.
She shrugged. “Not ill, just pregnant.”
He leaned against the rest of the chair and looked up at her. “You’re lying,” he said calmly.
She shook her head. “Three months pregnant.”
He laughed at the idea. “I think I would know if you were pregnant.”
“How, have you ever been around a pregnant woman before?” she asked him matter-of-factly.
He shook his head. “No. But anyone can tell if a woman is pregnant or not, and you certainly don’t look the part.”
“I’m three months along.”
“So if you’re pregnant, why didn’t you tell me before, like three months ago?”
She bit her lip. “I know I’ve been saying for a really long time that I didn’t want to have children… but the truth is I didn’t think I could… not after what Greyback did anyway… I didn’t know how to tell you, I thought you would have been so disappointed so I just got defensive.”
For the first time since the conversations started he actually believed what she was saying. “Are you serious?” he asked, feeling his heart beating out of his chest.
She nodded. “I didn’t want to tell you straight away in case something happened, but it’s been three months and I am fine, mostly… and I think it will be fine. I think we’ll have a baby Severus.”
His hand involuntarily went over his mouth as he pushed his chair backwards. He stood up so he was levelled with her. “You’re pregnant?” he asked again just to make sure he had heard her correctly.
She nodded. “Are you happy?” she asked him in a whisper.
He nodded. “Very,” was all he managed to say before he showered her
“And how did you feel when Severus was born?”
“Scared,” he said quickly.
“What were you scared of?” Ms Aralias asked concerned.
“Of many things,” he said nonchalantly. “That someone would take him away from me, that I would be like my father, that I would disappoint him, that I would drop him… anything that there was to be afraid off, I was afraid of it.”
She nodded, and the sound of her hidden quill could be heard scratching away. “Professor you’re doing very well today, you have been very open.”
He shrugged. “Well I want this done, quickly.”
“There is no set time for healing… it could take months or years.”
He looked at her with his eyes wide open. “I can’t take that long. I must be able to see her soon.”
“So why don’t you just see her?” she asked. He could tell that she was eager for the answer.
“I just… can’t,” he said in defeat. “And my son thinks I hate her because Nymphadora died having her… but I don’t… I don’t know what I think about it.”
“Are you jealous?” Ms Aralias asked.
“Of whom?” he asked.
“You’re daughter, Dora,” she asked cautiously.
His brows became knitted. “Why on earth would I be jealous of my own daughter who is just a baby?”
“Well that goes back to your relationship with her mother. Do you think that her mother didn’t love you enough to choose to live with you over choosing to have the baby that put her life in danger?”
He sat quietly because what she was saying was scaring him. He shook his head slightly, even though he hadn’t yet convinced himself that that wasn’t the case.
Ms. Aralias took off the glasses and cleaned it piece of soft fabric and then placed it back on her face. She cleared her throat and looked at him sternly.
“Severus,” she said, using his first name for the first time since they met. “Have you ever considered the possibility that your wife didn’t tell she was having problems with the pregnancy so you wouldn’t have to make a choice… so you wouldn’t have to choose between her and your child?”
He looked up at her with his brows still knitted.
“You said she knows you better than anyone has ever known you… do you think you would have liked to know?”
He thought hard about it. He thought about how the decision of having to kill Dumbledore affected him. He thought about being presented with the problem of having to choose between his wife and his unborn child. He knew he would have chosen Nymphadora because he could never imagine life without her but he also knew that he would never be able to live with the knowledge that they had to destroy a part of themselves… someone that they had both been looking forward to, be together. The truth was his wife did know him… remarkably well. She made a decision that he would not have been able to make or live with either way.
“I want you to think about that for a while Severus… when I meet you next week, we’ll talk about it.”
Severus laid awake in bed for the third night in row. What Ms Aralias said had been eating away at him. The more he thought about it the more he realised there was some truth to it, some truth to everything she said. There was so much going on in his mind that he would never be able to tell a soul, not even his therapist. She had already figured out so much about him but there was still so much that he didn’t want her to know.
How could he tell her that he blamed himself for Nymphadora’s death? He had spend so much time worrying about her work that he thought never entered his mind that she could die doing something so natural. He believed he should have foreseen it, found a way to fix it.
How could he tell anyone that he missed his wife more and more everyday and instead of the pain getting easier, it got progressively worse? He didn’t want to seem weak… but the truth is, he was… he always told Nymphadora that. She never believed him. She would always say that he was stronger than he believed. Looking back on it, it seemed like she was preparing him for her death all along.
He hated death… he hated that you could be given something so perfect then have it taken away. It was not fair. He hated having to feel pain like this. He hated all things associated with pain. And that was perhaps the reason why he couldn’t stand to see Dora. He knew it would be too painful to look at her. Everyone kept telling him that she looked so much like her mother, like that was supposed to be some comfort to him, like he really needed to be reminded that he lost his wife everyday of his life. He would have much preferred if she looked like Junior, nothing like his mother, but like him and some distant relative. It would have been easier to deal with.
But all the same, sometimes he would look at his son eyes and try to find a trace of her in them. Every time he would find that he would be so disappointed that he couldn’t find it. Part of him longed to see her eyes again, so he could remember that he had a wife… so he could remember the good moments.
Sometimes he thought about that and it kept him up… much like that night.
He had been toying with the idea of going to seventh floor again, to the room next to the hospital wing, to catch a glimpse of his child whole week but he could never do it. But that night some force propelled him to rise from his bed and head there that every moment.
The door was left slightly ajar. He hovered around outside for a moment before he pushed it forward. He walked in the room slowly. The room was furnished exactly like Junior’s had been when Nymphadora was alive. The identical large crib in the side the room, the chair close to the window, the cupboard with all the little baby clothes and toys and little bath they used to bath they used. It was exactly the same, only difference was it was not next to their room in the dungeons like that had been. He had to have everything moved away from him. He wanted the child far away from him but not too far, so she was kept in the castle.
The only person in the room was Mrs. Packard, who was a widow who’d never managed to have kids of her own. She loved taking care of children and acted as a babysitter for Junior when he and Nymphadora could too busy with school duties. He had come to trust her and knew that she would take excellent care of his daughter. He wasn’t surprised to see that she had fallen asleep on the chair, looking out the window, next to the crib.
He walked up the crib slowly, careful not to make any noise. He found that he had his eyes closed while he held on the frame of the crib. His heart was beating so wildly as it dawned on him that it would be the first time he was seeing his daughter since the day she was born. He was comforted by the fact that she was asleep he wouldn’t have to look at her eyes.
He opened his eyes slowly and looked down at the sleeping child, who in fact was not sleeping at all. In fact the child with jet black hair and a nose that was beginning to look oddly hooked was looking up at him with her eyes wide open. For the first time in six months he saw his wife’s eyes. They were light brown and shinning with excitement. For a moment he stood over and looked at her in amazement. It was like staring at himself with Nymphadora’s eyes. She was not so much reminding him of what he lost… in fact she was the perfect representation of their relationship… the perfect result of their love; a little child with his face and her eyes. Then before he had time to appreciate her eyes, he found that they were in fact getting darker and darker until they were so dark he was convinced he was looking at his own. He was almost alarmed but quickly remembered that Junior said she started to mimic people’s faces, she must have been mimicking his.
She looked up at him with bright eyes and began to wiggle her little arms and legs in joy and giggled. She was looking at him with recognition in her eyes. It was like she knew he was her father. Severus was so moved by this that even though he was afraid he thought that it would actually be okay to pick her up; it was his child after all. He reached out took his the little child in the blanket, who fit so snugly in his hands (she was still such a tiny child for six months), and held her in his arms, he looked down at her in amazement. A lump began to threaten his throat as he looked down at the little version of himself who was staring at him in fascination. “Hello Dora,” he whispered to her. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” Her hand reached up to him, to pull on a loose piece of fabric on his night robe. “What do you say you come and live with me and your big brother tomorrow?” She clearly didn’t understand what he was saying but she seemed to like it all the same. She continually giggled at the sound of his voice whispering to her. “I think that means yes,” he said.
“She likes you already.”
The sound of the voice in the room startled him and turned around quickly to find that Mrs Packhard was up and looking at him closely. “Have you been up all this time,” he asked in whisper.
“Don’t worry, I won’t interrupt your moment, I’ll just gave you two some time alone.”
She got up from the chair slowly and began to make her way across the room.
“Mrs. Packhard,” he called out to her. She turned around. “How is it that she seems…”
“To know you?” she asked. He nodded. “Look at the chimes.” He turned his head to the crib and his eyes landed on the chimes that were dancing in a swinging motion, moving in and out of each other. Someone had stuck Chocolate Frogs cards on all the little figurines of dragons and unicorns and hippogriffs. When he looked closely, he realised all the cards had his face on it. He looked at it in astonishment and then looked back at Mrs. Packhard. “Thank you,” he said softly.
“Oh don’t thank me, Junior did that.”
Severus turned away and looked at the chimes again, seeing his picture move in and out with the melody of the song it played. The lump that was in his throat earlier gave way and his felt a single tear running down his cheeks.
He looked down at his child once more and into the darkness of his own eyes then, as quickly as her eyes changed before her face began to change again. Her hair turned a dull shade of brown; her eyes the shade of light brown he had seen before and her nose like a cute little button. He had seen it; she did look remarkably like her mother. It didn’t scare him like he thought it would. He found that it wasn’t a scary thing to remember the person who could make him happy. He had no reason to be afraid of not being happy anymore. He had two perfect children who would be happy and make him happy for the rest of his life.
A/N: And so it ends... I hope I made you cry, it's my greatest joy. So since this is the last chapter and all, why don't you guys be super kind and leave me a review. Tell me what you thought of the end. Do you hate it, Do you love it. Tell me. I swear I won't hold it against you if you didn't like it.
So thanks once again
Until my next story... BYE.