• 1-Never Too Much
• 2-2
• 3-3
• 4-4
• 5-5
• 6-6

Beta'd by the lovely Slyth.
A/N: This is an epilogue/sequel to my story A Most Trusted Soldier. If you have not read that, good luck understanding this. MTS is a Slash Snarry.

You can find it here:

http://hp.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600016090

There wasn’t one glaring action that had set off flags in her mind. Instead it had been a combination of things. The way Harry had fixed her plate with such careful attention to detail, making sure the portions were a particular size and that no item of food touched another; the way his eyes lingered on her when she spoke; the fact that he had hardly let her out of his sight the entire evening. It was strange, almost as if he were watching her, assessing her in some way.

Severus had behaved only slightly more normally. Since becoming a father the older wizard had apparently found his affection bone, thus he gave hugs rather liberally these days— at least to family, Luna included. Yet, as the night wound to a close, after Harry had left to read Gabe a bedtime story, Severus had insisted on helping her into her cloak, his hands smoothing her hair as he bent to give her a goodbye peck on the cheek. This in itself was not unusual, as over the years they had grown enormously comfortable in each other’s affections. What was odd was the way the older wizard’s hand slid slowly from the crown of her head down the length of her hair, the tips of it lying just shy of her tailbone when she wore it loose. Severus’ hand had lingered there, just above her tailbone, warm and comforting, but also slightly possessive, not allowing her to move into the Floo until he decided to release his loose embrace. It was though he had been trying to communicate…something. Even his eyes, always piercing and probing, seemed to hold her in suspense as she stepped into the fireplace, refusing to break contact with her own even as the green flames swept her towards home.

The more she thought about it the more she realized that the past several months were peppered with similarly odd behavior, each incident equally as subtle, that left her curious and inexplicably longing. Hugs that felt just a little tighter and lingered just a tad longer than they ever had before. Large, warm hands that just happened to rest gently, sometimes possessively, on the small of her back whenever she stood or walked next to either Severus or Harry.

Then there were the gifts for her birthday. Severus and Harry had taken her out to dinner at Bricolage, but there were no other customers that night. The two had rented out the entire eatery for her party, inviting only her closest friends and family. Severus had dictated the menu, filled with Luna’s favorites, which was prepared by Blaise’s wife, Seine.

It had been an extravagant evening and if she were honest she felt quite special because of it. The two men had flanked her the entire evening, almost catering to her every need or whim. Her champagne glass was never empty for longer than it took either Harry or Severus to refill it, each man shooing away the wait staff each time one dared to do their job.

As the night wore on there had been dancing. It had been so long since she and Harry had danced and she was happy to note that her former lover had not lost his ability to sweep her gracefully to nearly any rhythm. Severus had stood watch, a serene little smile plastered on his face for all to see, as his husband and his friend danced the night into exhaustion.

It was only now, while thinking back over the night of her birthday, that she could recall how odd that had been. That Severus should allow her to monopolize Harry’s time so completely should have been a clear warning that something was amiss, yet having imbibed several glasses of champagne and not a few sips of Sherry it was no wonder she failed to make much of it at the time.

As she filled the tub with hot water and aromatic oils, she mentally scoffed at herself, thinking that she was making too much out of these vague feelings and subtle actions on part of the two men. Perhaps she was reading more into these events than had been there to begin with. Her days weren’t exactly rife with excitement. Maybe she was just looking for a mystery because her life, as much as she loved it, was as simple as it could get.

Perhaps she just missed Gabe—one would be hard pressed to find a more affectionate and precocious five-year old. He was an uncanny combination of his fathers— as smart and observant, as he was adventurous and inquisitive, and already showing an impressive set of magical talents for his age. He was a carbon copy of a young Harry without the glasses, but his personality shifted rather seamlessly between both his dads.

Or maybe she was melancholy over the absence of the easy-going baby, Remmy, who was just a month shy of one, with auburn hair and large, coal-black eyes, and cherry-red bow lips that she loved to kiss.

In preparation for her bath, Luna huffily tied her hair, which she had allowed to grow to an annoying length, up in a high, messy chignon. She would love to cut her hair, but the one time she did something entirely too weird had happened with Harry. A few years back she had shown up at the farmhouse help a then pregnant Severus pick out a new décor scheme for what was to be Remmy’s nursery. She thought the pixie cut with strawberry blonde highlights that she had chosen actually suited her well, and Severus had agreed, smiling at her as he stroked her shortened hair. As they were sitting to tea, Harry and Gabe had come in from playing in the yard for an afternoon snack. Harry had taken one look at Luna’s hair and without even meaning to, had charmed it back long, down to her shoulders. It had been his first accidental use of magic since he was a kid. All three of them were shocked silent. Little Gabe, then about three years old, had simply begun to giggle and bounce up and down, yelling for Harry to “Do me, papa! Do me!” wanting his hair long like his “muna”. Unable to say Luna, Gabe had called Luna “Muna” since he could talk. The name had stuck and even now, when his English was as polished as any five-year-old’s could be, he still called her “Muna.” Til this day not one of the adults had spoken about the incident, and Luna had taken it upon herself to keep her hair long, just in case.

Luna stepped into the tub and sank down into the foamy cloud of suds until she was submerged up to the collarbone. The hot water immediately began to soothe her muscles, allowing the knot of tension she had been carrying in her gut all evening to slowly uncoil. Releasing a deep breath and closing her eyes, she lifted her arms up out of the water and dangled her hands over the sides of the antique claw-foot tub, not bothering to care that she was dripping soapy water onto the tiled floor and deciding that for now it was best to soak away her concerns.

Severus had just finished checking on the boys when he heard the sound of glass shattering. Reinforcing the noise reduction barrier on the nursery and Gabe’s room, he made his way down the stairs, knowing just what he would find.

He pushed open the kitchen café doors, expecting to see Harry smashing more of their fine dinnerware; instead the room was empty. Shattered rose-colored crystal littered the kitchen floor. Severus held no doubt that the shards were the remnants of the expensive imported decanter they had used at dinner. The bits of crystal were tipped in blood here and there, but not enough to lead Severus to believe his lover had any life threatening injuries. However, he knew unless things were settled soon Harry’s outbursts would only worsen and increase in frequency.

Within the last month alone Harry had displayed unexplained bouts of agitation and irritability, which were often accompanied by long sleeping spells and an increasing need for rougher and rougher sex. Severus couldn’t help but note that the last six months or so Harry had become almost insatiable, even popping up at the apothecary a few times per week and whisking Severus back home to sate his lust. Always ready for a good round of lovemaking with Harry and not one to shy away from rough handling, Severus was more than up to the challenge, yet even he had to admit that perhaps his lover needed something more. The one time he had tried to broach the topic it had led to a three-day argument, which caused a worried Gabe to ask Severus, “whazzamatta wid papa?”

The “matter” was that Severus had gently insinuated that perhaps Harry was unhappy with something, that maybe he was unsatisfied in some way. He suspected it had to do with Harry’s Amoral inheritance, worried that in his increasing age his lover’s nature was once more seeking out a more fertile mate. Given that he could no longer have any more children for health reasons, it made perfect sense. Even at forty, Harry was still a very young man, and could technically father several dozen more children if he had enough healthy mates with whom to breed. It was no surprise to Severus and the more he thought about it the more he realized he didn’t feel at all threatened by the possibility. He and Harry were solid in their love. They had a family and a bond that had grown strong through trial and triumph; nothing could really separate them now. As to how to get Harry to do a little honest introspection and come to the same conclusions, Severus had little idea, as he knew that Harry could easily ignore his own needs when he put his mind to it.

Harry had been uncomfortable with the mere suggestion that he was unhappy with Severus, insisting that nothing could be further from the truth. The younger man had acknowledged that his moods were shifting like a leaf in a hurricane, but insisted that it was just stress; telling Severus that he just needed to spend more time outdoors.

That explanation smelled of bullshit to the potions master, but he held his tongue, knowing that sooner or later the topic would boomerang around once more.

Looking at the fragments of the now irreparable decanter, it seems the moment was at hand. Severus loved that decanter.

With a swish of his wand Severus had the mess of glass and blood cleared. Once done, he sent a mental thanks to the gods, praising them for his magic. He had only had it back in full for six years and he made himself a promise to never take his power for granted again. It had taken him nearly a year to recoup his full magical power after Wood’s attempt to make him a Squib. The end results were not as bad as the potions master had feared. Madame Pomfrey estimated he was still in the eightieth percentile when it came to magical power, and that was more than enough to ensure that he could breed and not kill himself.

He would never regain his original magical strength, but it seems the year spent regenerating had not been in vain. He was still stronger than Ron and only slightly weaker than Luna. Her blood sacrifice had apparently created a protective barrier around what remained of Severus’ magical core, which is likely the only reason the poison didn’t finish him completely. He owed the svelte blonde so much and yet, he knew he’d never be able to repay the debt. Never one for too much sentimentality, he couldn’t help but secretly think of Luna as his own personal angel. A crafty, sly, eccentric one… but an angel all the same.

The ring Harry had given him had helped, ensuring that they could invest themselves fully in life and love without too many restrictions; but once his powers returned Severus had asked the Amoral to destroy it and release the magic back into nature, where it belonged. Harry had done so easily, so happy that his sub could now wield his own magic. It was never meant to be permanent anyway, merely a stopgap until the older wizard healed. Seems the ordeal of nearly having his sub killed or made unsuitable had ignited some procreative urge within Harry, for as soon as Severus’ magic was back Harry forbade him from taking the contraceptive potion. Thus, a year after healing fully, Severus and Harry became parents for the first time.

Setting a ward to alert him if either of the boys woke or were in distress, Severus grabbed a thin blanket from the hall closet and slipped out of the house, leaving through the door off the kitchen, which Harry had added in anticipation of them getting Gabe a dog for his sixth birthday.

The night sky was a bitter black, void of stars and cloudy. Severus could smell a rain coming. He knew that once the raindrops began to fall that Harry would likely remain out in it for a time. Severus had learned a great many things in the near decade he and Harry had been lovers, and the thing he was most proud of learning was how to tell when his lover was unhappy. Harry was very good at hiding his feelings, burying them deep within so as to keep those around him as worry free and happy as he could. However, Severus knew— he always knew. Sometimes he kept quiet about his observations, preferring to let Harry confide in him when he felt the need; other times he spoke up, albeit respectfully.

The evening was humid with the impending rain and Severus couldn’t help but smile at the pungent scent of dank earth that rose all around. He looked over towards the far edge of the property and could just make out Harry’s form resting against the trunk of his big oak, which the family called “Harry’s tree” or “Papa’s tree” if it was Gabe.

As Severus reached the tree his heart swooped up into his throat as Harry smiled up at him from his reclined position at the base of the tree. Neither of them spoke when Severus arrived, but Harry did scoot over a bit to make room for the older man, watching with that beaming smile as Severus toed off his own shoes and socks before settling down against the rough bark that covered the tree’s trunk as well. Silently unfolding the blanket, Severus tucked one half across Harry’s legs before securing the other around his own. He rested his head against Harry’s shoulder, sighing and relaxing as one of Harry’s arms came up to wrap around him. The two sat there snuggling under the starless night sky for several long minutes, happy to be alive, whole, parents, and in love.

“You want her,” Severus said softly, breaking the placid silence. It wasn’t a question…not really and Harry knew it.

The forty-year-old wizard shifted slightly before responding with a grief-laden, “I’ve tried not to.”

“I know,” Severus said solemnly, sitting upright so he could look Harry in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Harry, whispered gruffly, before removing his arm from Severus’ shoulders and muttering a short curse.

“Why should you be sorry?” Severus asked.

“Part of me wants her so badly—needs her even, but another part of me can’t help but feel it would be a betrayal of you…of what we have. I can’t help but think… that somehow this is all unfair to you,” Harry replied, slightly disgusted at himself.

“Harry, we agreed to accept one another wholly no matter what, right?” Severus asked, dipping his head to force Harry’s eyes to connect to his own.

When his lover nodded, Severus continued, “And I knew all about your heritage from the beginning. I think I’ve read Hermione’s book about Amorals more than even she has at this point. The fact that you now seek a second mate is no real surprise.”

“It isn’t?”Harry asked, his green eyes widening in disbelief.

Severus shook his head and gazed off into the distance.

“No, Harry. It’s not,” Severus replied gently. “You have been showing all the signs of being, for lack of a better term, in mating mode. I’ve seen how you dote on her. Plus, you’ve been far more protective of us all recently and when she is around...I don’t know…it’s as though you become far more interested. Not in just her either, in me too. I think you are unconsciously already linking to her, intimately. Hell, even the sex between us is better after you’ve been near her.”

Harry’s eyes went wide as he stared at the man who had fathered him two of the most beautiful boys the world could ever know. The fact that after all this time, Severus Snape could still surprise him made Harry’s heart feel swollen and almost too big for his chest.

“You’re…I don’t know…okay with all this?” Harry asked warily, his eyes glistening brightly in the dim light of the evening.

“Honestly I don’t think it matters if I am okay with it or not. You need what you need,” Severus said firmly, looking steadily into Harry’s eyes, before adding, “But I think I am alright with it. It’s Luna. She’s…a part of us.”

Harry smiled that crooked, innocent smile that made Severus fall in love all over again. “Yeah, I suppose she is. She’s always been there, hasn’t she?”

“She has, even when she had every reason not to be,” Severus added, thinking of how a lesser human being would have taken affront at the mere notion of becoming friends with the person who had stepped in and taken their lover away. He knew that Harry and Luna were not an item per se when he and Harry got together, but he also knew the two had a deep relationship that had changed overnight once he had come into the picture.

“Things might not be easy,” Harry said seriously, giving Severus a knowing look. Even as he said it, Harry knew it was a understatement. Severus had made the first move in their relationship, convincing Harry to accept his heritage and assume a dominant role. So, Harry had been spared the duty of courting a potential mate. Having never done it, and not knowing how much of the “chase” his heritage would dictate, the Amoral knew he was in for quite a fast learning curve as he pursued a new mate.

Severus repositioned himself snug against Harry’s side once more.

“Easy is overrated. Besides, things easily gained are easily lost. We want this for the long haul.”

Several long, quiet minutes passed as the two snuggled together under the night sky, caressing one another and petting.

“I know you want her, but do you still love her…the way you loved her before I came along?” Severus asked, one of his hands snaking under Harry’s shirt to play with his belly button.

Harry just nodded and sighed, unable to lie at this point. He did love Luna and he always would.

“How did you know?” Harry asked as he began massaging Severus’ scalp with one hand, while the other drew curls across his back.

“Aside from the fact that you hide your desire about as well as Gabe hides it when Molly sneaks him cookies before dinner on Sundays, it is easy to recognize in others that which dwells deep inside yourself. I knew because…because I want her too,” Severus said warily, his voice trembling faintly, unsure if he was stepping on some kind of unknown territorial mine, or better yet showing his dom disrespect by even deigning to desire someone else.

Harry stiffened momentarily before asking dumbly, “You want her too?”

Severus relaxed and let out a nervous laugh. “Well, I can admit that she is attractive, but that is not why I want her. No, in my case I think it is pure greed.”

“I don’t understand.”

Severus let out a deep breath before stretching out sideways and laying his head in Harry’s lap.

“You know I have never had a lot of love before you and the kids came along.”

“What about Albus…he loved you,” Harry said.

“No. Albus…cared. He cared a lot. But he didn’t love me…not completely. Not the way you and the kids do. There are no restrictions or conditions on this type of love. Even Molly and her brood have come to show their love for me since you and I bonded and became a real family. Luna loves like that. And I am afraid to say I want more instead of less,” Severus explained, his eyes beginning to droop as Harry continued stroking his hair and face.

Love. It was the one thing that neither of them could really ever get enough of,and that Harry understood. They had each been denied unconditional love for so much of their lives that now even the thought of denying honest, unadulterated love and affection—even if it came with headache-inducing complexities— could make them depressed and agitated for days on end. They would not do it.

“Haven’t you seen the way the kids light up when she is around? How their little faces become stretched with happiness. It happens to you and I as well, you know,” Severus said.

“Yes. But I won’t sacrifice you…not even for her. I won’t go after her if it’ll make me lose you,” Harry said, his tone hard and definitive.
“You could never lose me Harry. Not now…not over this.”

“Can we make this work? Can we all be happy together? Can you be happy sharing your home, your husband, your children with another?”

“I can be happy so long as I have you and the kids, Harry. And if I know you, you’ll wrack that impetuous brain of yours night and day if need be to ensure that we all get what we need from this relationship. Most of all though…I…I think we are a family. She belongs here. She belongs with us.”

“She does.”

As each man sat in deep thought about what they had shared this night, their hands unconsciously came to entwine, their thumbs rubbing across each other’s knuckles as they pondered the impact of all that had been said.

Finally Severus rolled over so that he was facing Harry’s stomach. As he resettled he asked, “Tell me about her?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Harry asked, unsure just what his lover was getting at.

“Tell me about…her. What is it like being with her?” Severus asked a little bashfully, but his eyes remained sharp and probing, denoting just how interested he was in the answer.

“I never knew you were into women that much, Sev,” Harry said jokingly.

“I’m usually not. I mean, I had been known to bed a woman or six in my younger years, but Luna is not just any woman, now is she?” Severus retorted with a smirk.

“No, I suppose not,” Harry, said before his eyes got a far away look that Severus had come to recognize as fondness. Harry almost always got that look when thinking of those he held dear, but Severus never saw it come on as quickly or linger as long unless Harry was thinking of Luna.

“She’s very…calm. Tranquil. She makes you feel calm all the time when you are with her,” Harry began in a gruff whisper, recalling random traits from memory about his intimate interactions with Luna. “And her smile in the mornings is kind of crooked, but cute. She likes red wine…Muggle wine…and long, hot baths. She keeps her nails short. Her favorite shampoo is rosemary-mint. She…she’s a horrible cook, but can make really good pudding. She likes to eat naked.”

Harry let out a snort of laughter before continuing, “Come to think of it, Luna is pretty much a nudist. She loves doing anything naked.”

Severus smiled at the recollections, happy to see Harry loosening up around the topic. If he were perfectly honest, Severus himself had grown to enjoy looking at Luna. She was not the average overly made-up witch, but more than that, Severus liked her, as a person. He liked her personality, which was surprisingly quite similar to his own in a much more subtle way. He had learned to appreciate her humor, respect her intellect, and most of all, admire her loyalty and the shameless way she lived her life— completely uncaring about the asinine judgments and expectations of others. Luna was simply Luna. She didn’t try to aspire to be anyone else or imitate some popular notion of what a proper witch should be. She was peculiar and funny and witty. She said off-the-wall things and laughed at inappropriate times. She drove him mad with her easygoing style, but he thanked the gods for it every day. Luna danced to the music in her head and sang songs no one else knew the words to. She was unique, she was beautiful, sexy, and had a child-like imagination that his children adored.

“Tell me more, “ Severus added, unable to resist stoking the arousal that was beginning to appear in Harry’s eyes. He could also smell the increasingly potent aroma of Harry’s pheromones, a sure sign that the lust in the Amoral was awakening.

Harry licked his lips and let his head fall back to rest against the tree, shutting his eyes as if going into a deep mediation.

“She smells like autumn leaves when she sweats. She…,” Harry paused to swallow thickly, his breathing speeding up. “She likes sex in the mornings, to be woken up and taken while still half asleep. She gives excellent massages and likes to cut my hair without magic. She has small, perky tits and a tiny tattoo of a dragonfly on her left hip. Her ass is perfect, shaped like a small apple, and the skin on it is smooth as cream and firm. She thrashes during foreplay and has been known to bite when really worked up. And…and she…she cries.”

Severus, who had been teasing Harry’s crotch through the front of his pants, stopped his stroking to ask, “ What do you mean, she cries?”

“When she orgasms…she cries. It’s one of the most erotic things I have ever seen. It’s a truly gorgeous sight, Sev. You two together would be…gods, I’d go fucking feral I think,” Harry panted, his face contorting in aggravation borne of as yet unfulfilled desire.

Severus, resuming his cock teasing replied, “Mmmmm, I’m counting on it.”

Harry grabbed his sub by the back of the neck and pulled him forward into a deep, wet kiss, his tongue demanding what his mind had not the words to communicate. Severus opened wide, his lips eager and loose as the kisses grew increasingly more passionate.

Breaking the kiss, Severus straddled Harry who still rested against the tree. “Make love to me, please,” the older wizard breathed into Harry’s mouth as they shared a rather vicious kiss, just barely managing not to draw blood.

“You’ve seen to the babes?” Harry asked, already beginning to relieve Severus of his shirt, his warm hands snaking around the taller wizards back, stroking the lean muscles that rippled there.

Severus nodded, his cheek pressed against Harry’s as they continued to disrobe each other with little to no grace.

Harry lay Severus back atop the blanket, his own nude form stretching out along side his lover as his face hovered above. He allowed his eyes to rake down his sub’s moonlit body, taking in the magnificent poise and graceful masculinity on offer. He lay his palm flat against his lover’s lower abdomen, covering the long, vertical, hair-thin scar that he could not feel but knew was there all the same. It would never truly fade, a reminder of just how close Harry had come to losing both Severus and his youngest son.

Pregnancy had come like second nature to Severus, and Harry had never seen the man look more vibrant and healthy as he packed on the fleshy padding indicative of carrying a child. Yet, birth had been an altogether other experience. Severus’ body and magic had been extremely depleted after Gabe. On advice of Madame Pomfrey, Severus had gone back on the contraceptive potion while he once again healed physically and magically. The mediwitch had advised both Severus and Harry that having another child too soon could prove disastrous. So they waited.

Harry was content to never try for more, knowing fully well that they could adopt. Yet, less than three years after Gabe had been born, Severus began insisting he was well enough to bear another child. Those obsidian eyes, Harry found, could be as pleading as they were piercing. Harry cracked within months, unable to stomach the forlorn looks Severus got whenever he rocked Gabe to sleep at night. The miserable fear that Gabe would be their only child written all over the older wizard’s face. Harry would never deny his sub a thing if he could help it. So, after consulting Poppy and making Severus promise to take it extremely easy in his final three months of the next pregnancy, Severus was allowed to go off the potion. When the next breeding cycle arrived Severus had been more eager than even the Amoral to breed. It didn’t take long for them to find out that Remmy was on the way. Yet, once again, labor had almost been catastrophic. Severus had lost so much blood that he went into shock and had to be put into a coma for two days. Remmy had been born with a fixable heart defect and had to be fed specially made nutritive potions, because for some reason he refused all bottles and even the wet nurse Harry had procured from St. Mungoes. It wasn’t until Sev woke that the little guy would even suckle. It was as though the little one was determined that his fate would be whatever that of his ill father, refusing to live unless Severus did as well. Harry had been so relieved when the two were out of the woods. He had sat watching vigil over them night and day during the ordeal, refusing food, and holding Gabe constantly as though his oldest son would also slip away.

Harry couldn’t imagine going back to a life without the man who had borne him children, given him love and a family and was now yet again giving. Giving him yet another gift, the gift of a second sub. Having spent a large part of his life regretting being Harry Potter, it was at moments like this when he was grateful that he was.

“No matter what happens, Sev, I want you to know that you will always be my love, my first,” Harry whispered against his lover’s lips, grazing the swollen flesh that was the result of their heavy kissing.

“I know, Harry. I know.”

So, with the moon finally at its highest point, the two men ceased all talking, preferring instead to make slow, passionate love beneath the starless night sky. Heedless of the rain, which began to pelt their bodies just as Harry slid inside his sub, their bodies and souls made that connection that never failed to make the world disappear…for a while.

Severus lay there on a wet blanket atop the rain soaked earth, having his passion worked out by the steady thrusting of his Dom, gasping in delight when his lover came in contact with his prostate. Thinking no more of details, plans, or fears about the future, Severus let go and for the first time in his life, he opened his mouth and tasted the rain.

Finally out of the bath, Luna settled her warm, nude body between the crisp, dove gray sheets of her iron-wrought bed. She frowned as she stretched out in a vain attempt to relax in the empty bed; the cool sheets a stark reminder of the lack of romance and sex in her life. She had taken a few lovers here and there over the years; some she even kept in steady rotation for a while, but ultimately none of them, male or female, had come close to making her regret their eventual permanent departure from her bed. Except Harry. Harry, she had missed. Yet, she knew when they had been a steady, uncomplicated source of comfort for one another, that they were not destined to be more. Not then.

As a personal rule she never lied, that is if one could ignore her penchant for having a little fun by touting the existence of non-existent magical creatures. Yet, she had lied once…almost eleven years ago. And at the time it had seemed the right thing to do. Now, she wasn’t so sure it had been. Oh, she didn’t regret her decision to lie in the least, it having served a very good purpose.

When Severus had first come to her, simultaneously sizing-up the competition and seeking her help, she had told him that she was not in love with Harry. In hindsight she realized not only had she lied to Severus then, but also to herself. It had been an unconscious lie, because at the time she and Harry had been so casual and carefree in their intimacy. There were no strict words between them labeling their relationship; nor did either see the need at the time to place restrictions upon each other. It wasn’t until Harry her lover had become Harry her platonic friend that she felt the twinge of regret and a dash of envy towards what Severus had found with her former lover.

Things had been so clear to her then. She knew that Harry needed to get off the potion, and that would mean breeding. She would have gladly offered her services and had numerous times in the past. Yet, she took a gamble that Severus, who was as strong-willed as Harry himself, could break through where she had failed. That perhaps Severus could help Harry join both his human nature and that of his Amoral Elf heritage to become whole. For she knew that people who suppressed aspects of their identity risked fracturing their own psyche in the long run. Before Severus, Harry was only half existing. Drinking his inhibiting potion and living in fear, although well hidden, that someday his secret would come out and he’d be outcast, or worse yet, hunted like a prized turkey. She knew it was only a matter of time before something had to give, and if it were left up to her, it wouldn’t be her friend’s sanity. So she had made the only choice she could. She had made a choice to love, unselfishly.

It had been lust that brought them together after the war. There was no point in denying that, but for Luna at least it had grown to be something more; it had grown into love. And it was her love for Harry that had ultimately given Luna the strength to let him go.

Turning onto her side she stared at the framed photo of the kids that she had been given as a “happy Tuesday” gift. Gabe liked to make up holidays. The kid would do anything for a bit of cake and gifts, even if he were giving instead of receiving. The picture was a Muggle photo that Harry had taken when the family vacationed in the American South shortly after Remmy was born. Gabe sat perched on a high branch of a large, sprawling oak tree, holding Remmy, who was swaddled like a burrito. It soothed her heart to look at Gabe’s little tan face, enhanced by that distinctive Potter smile—part shyness, part innocence— and Remmy’s wild tuft of auburn hair sticking up out of the blankets.

Picking up the frame and stroking the still faces of the young ones, she smiled as she thought of the kids, missing them. How could she not? Despite seeing them several times per week, she couldn’t help but feel like she wasn’t seeing them enough. Having been present at both their births, she kind of thought of them as her own. Harry and Severus had named both she and Hermione as co-godmothers to the boys; yet with Hermione now on twin set number two, it left Gabe and Remmy virtually all Luna’s. At least once per week the boys were brought to her home for an overnight stay while Harry and Severus had some alone time.

Their grandma Molly had her hands full enough with Hermione and Ron’s three kids, which would only be compounded when the twins on the way finally left the womb. Even though the older woman insisted she could handle a brood of grandchildren, Harry and Severus thought it prudent not to overburden her with crawling tikes. So instead they relied on Luna more often than not when it came to babysitting, and the blonde didn’t mind one bit. They were her family after all.

Having lost her own mother as a young girl, she had been raised an only child by her father. It explained her introverted nature and the ease with which she could create imaginary creatures. She knew that hwagles and nargles weren’t real, but as a child they had been her company, playing with her when the other children found her too weird for their tastes. As she grew older it just became fun to prickle the learned nerves of those around her with fanciful ideas and off-the-wall commentary. Now, with Gabe and Remmy, she could indulge her imagination even more, often entertaining the two with stories and drawings of rare magical beasts, the likes of which could be found in no textbook. And each time she did so, having them both fall asleep snuggled close, the baby tucked into the cradle of her arms near her breast, she felt her heart relax and a feeling of great contentment in her soul. Thus, it was always with great sadness that she relinquished them back to the loving, capable care of their birth fathers when the weekly sleepover was done. Often she began missing them before they were even gone, the thought of their departure alone bringing on a touch of dolefulness.

Something primal slid into place when she and the boys piled into bed together, all tight and cozy. For days afterward she wouldn’t even change the bed linen or the nightgown she wore to shield the kids from her preferred state of nudity, wanting to hold on to that clean, sweet smell produced only by babies and small children that the boys always left behind. Hermione would no doubt tell her it was just her maternal instincts or biological clock telling her it was time to do what nature intended, keep the species going. Perhaps it was, but Luna was more inclined to look deeper for an explanation. Unfortunately, when she did look deeper what she discovered frightened her tremendously.