A · Fair · Few · Fics

Title: Falling Stars

Rating: PG, Angst

Summary: The war's finished, the good guys won, and it's time to live. Wouldn’t it be lovely if that were true?

 

from Falling Stars, Part 12

 

Unlike his daughter, Severus’s son had almost gaunt features that further

 accentuated the addition of Severus’s easily recognizable lips and nose –

right down to the thick bump of  cartilage at the ridge of his nose.

 The tell-tale bump, in itself, was proof of his wife’s theory.

Rather than adopting the natural structure of his new father’s nose,

 as his daughter had, the boy had apparently wished his restructured nose

 to include the thick bump that Severus’s uncle had put there when he broke

 the then fourteen year-old’s nose and refused to heal it.

 

Falling Stars, Part 13

While Juliette went to wake and dress their daughter, Severus poured his young associate another tea and waited for the young man to broach whatever subject he had been mulling over nervously. When it seemed that the young man would be unable to marshal his nerves, Severus finally spoke.

“Neville, you might prevent at least some bruising if you would cease gnawing at your lower lip and simply state whatever it is that has been troubling you. If it would be of any assistance, I can offer to restrain from casting any permanently damaging hexes for a period of … say… ten minutes.”

“Haa-hh,” the younger professor barked appreciatively. “Never one to mince words are you? Chop, shred, dice, and crush…but, never mince. Very well, to be blunt, I would like to give Harry his birthday gift, but due to the circumstances, it’s something that I will need to ask that you maintain and hold in trust for him until.”

“Indeed and what is the nature of this gift that you cannot transfer it to him immediately? A broom? A wand? I can think of very little in the wizarding world that your nature would find appealing that a child could not enjoy.”

Severus’s had rarely regretted being burdened with a harsh nature. In truth, he was rather certain that if he had been a single trace softer, he would not have survived his harsh up-bringing, much less his years of service to the order. Nevertheless, as he watched the solemn young man slip a charmed ribbon off from around the scroll that had softly slapped in his hand and quietly whisper a charm to end the birthday theme it had begun to play, he might have otherwise wished that he had the innate ability to provide comfort to the boy. After scanning the scroll, Neville slipped a page of it out and dropped it into his pocket before passing it to Severus.