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LettucePrey's 2025 Drabblefest

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Chapter 1 - A Different Way to Help

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Harry Potter, twenty-seven years old, formerly known as "The Boy Who Lived" and currently an Auror with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, blinked awake when the bed shifted as his his wife, twenty-eight year old Katie Potter, Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and shoo-in to be picked for England at the next Quidditch World Cup, got up, grumbling to herself as she trudged to the lavatory. After rubbing his eyes, Harry grabbed his glasses off his nightstand, then looked at her side of the mattress and saw a small dark-red stain toward the center. Together for twelve years, intimate for eleven, and married for seven, he was well-versed in the ways of his wife's body by this point in his life. Harry knew what he had to do, so he likewise rose, leaving the master bedroom as he headed down the hall to the guest room and its lavatory. After quickly relieving his bladder and brushing his teeth, he headed back to their bed, pausing only to strip off his soft cotton sleep pants as his cock began to stiffen. After propping his pillow up against the headboard, he leaned against it, then reached down and grasped himself, gently wanking to achieve a full erection, since -- Katie opened the door to the lavatory and walked back into the bedroom, now fully naked, and smirked when she saw what he was doing.

"You are the best husband ever," she told him as she reached the foot of the bed and began to crawl up to meet him.

"Careful, love," Harry teased. "Don't want my head to swell, do you?"

"Not that head," the blonde leered as she replaced his hand with her own, eliciting a satisfied grunt. After a few seconds, she released him, then rolled onto her back. "Waiting for something?"

Harry grinned, then took his glasses back off and placed them on the nightstand -- hopefully the research he'd been funding into magical eyesight correction would produce results soon -- and moved his body over hers, their mouths meeting as he lay himself gently against her, holding most of his weight on his elbows. Katie, however, had other ideas, and snaked her left hand between them to fit the head of his cock into the opening of her pussy. No longer able to resist either of their desires, Harry gently pressed forward, sheathing himself inside her tightness with one slow thrust. His wife let out a deep groan of satisfaction -- she was always more senstive during her period, not to mention hornier -- then locked eyes with him. "Fuck me, Harry."

"I thought that's what I was doing," Harry quipped, causing Katie to roll her eyes. He didn't say that often -- just rarely enough for her to forget it, so he enjoyed teasing her with it. He withdrew and thrust in slowly several more times, making certain she was aroused enough, then quickly increased both his speed and power once she was ready. Gasps and whimpers of pleasure and lust, sounds which inflamed Harry's own, fell from her mouth in an unbroken stream; longer moans shaking from the force he was driving himself in with. Barely a minute passed before Katie's legs tightened around his hips and her strong arms constricted around his back as her first orgasm of the morning hit, her yelps and cries of passion a reminder that his wife could be a screamer -- something they'd realized back at her old singles flat one morning when her landlady dryly mentioned they'd forgotten the Silencing Charm, to both of their chagrin.

Luckily, such things weren't an issue at Potter House -- the gutted, refurbished, and renamed Grimmauld Place -- so they were free to engage in whatever activities they wished wherever they wished, something they'd spent the last six years doing. Harry kissed up and down Katie's neck as her arousal plateaued, delighting in the contented sighs she gave at his attentions, but never stopped the motion of his hips, knowing she'd tell him when she was satisfied. Fit though he was, this pace so early in the morning was a strain, and he was glad he'd gotten a good night's sleep. Two more orgasms followed within a few minutes, and Harry felt his control beginning to slip after her velvet tightness spasmed around his shaft for the third time.

Breathing heavily, Harry pressed his forehead to Katie's and they again locked eyes. "You're...close, aren't you?" She managed in between pants. When Harry nodded, she brought his mouth to hers for a kiss which was only broken by their mutual need for oxygen. "Cum for me, love. I'll be right behind you. Cum for me," she smirked as Harry's rhythm began to falter. "Cum for me, cum for me, cum in me -- " Her body stiffened, then she let out a loud "Harry!", which was immediately followed by a deep, grunting groan as Harry hilted himself and exploded, his ejaculation jolting her like a bludger. The two clutched onto each other tightly as the spasms of rapture flowed through them, but all too soon it was over, and Harry's arms lost most of their strength, leaving him to sink down on top of his wife.

"Fuck...fuck, babe, that was...that was good," he managed to murmur into her left shoulder.

"Mmmm, always is," Katie chuckled, sighing deeply as the afterglow from their encounter left her feeling like she was floating on a cloud. "Oooh...thanks again, lover."

"Don't mention it," Harry snorted, then made to lift himself off her, only to be stopped.

"No. Stay," Katie pouted. "I like it when you're on top of me."

"I'm not crushing you?" Harry frowned in concern.

"You're only fifteen pounds heavier than me," the blonde reassured him, then sighed happily. "I love your weight pressing down on me, the feeling of your chest against my tits. When we're like this, I feel so content that nothing worries me."

"Glad to be of service," Harry chuckled.

"It's just part of the Potter Package," Katie smirked again. "Great in the kitchen, great in the sack, great at getting rid of cramps."

Harry laughed, then brought his mouth back to hers in a passionate kiss. Katie, unfortunately, had always suffered from terrible menstrual cramps the first day of her period, nearly to the point of needing hourly pain potions sometimes. In her fourth year at Hogwarts, Angelina had finally noticed -- being a year apart, they didn't share a dorm -- and advised her that a few good orgasms could help a great deal, by forcing the uterus to contract. Although not usually in the mood her first day, the blonde had been so miserable by that point she resolved to try it the next month, and was pleasantly surprised when the solution had a significant effect, though it didn't get rid of the pain completely.

No, that only came once she and Harry moved in together a year after the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry had, from day one of their relationship becoming fully sexual, accepted her not being interested in making love that week, but less than a month after they finished decorating, she woke up on her first day literally in tears from the pain, unable to focus enough even to touch herself. Harry, naturally, had been frantic with worry -- never having seen her like this before -- but when she told him what would help, had immediately offered to do it for her. When even Harry's touches couldn't do much more than get her wet, she'd become so frustrated with her body that she demanded he fuck her, hard and fast, hoping that if nothing else the exertion might help. Harry, having learned from several years of dealing with PMS not to argue with a hormonal witch, did as she asked, and they were both quickly astonished by how much more sensitive she was. That discovery, however, was left by the wayside when a few hours passed and Katie suddenly realized her cramps were totally gone. A repeat of this tactic the next month supported the result, and so it had become their monthly ritual, though they coupled much slower and gentler the rest of the time.

"Shower time? Then I can change the sheets while you make breakfast?" Kate asked.

"Sounds like a plan," Harry nodded, then kissed her again. "I love you so much."

"I love you," Katie replied, feeling her eyes moisten. She didn't like being such a 'girly girl', but for the next few days, she didn't have a choice as her hormone levels fluctuated. Honestly, after fifteen and a half years of dealing with it, she was looking foward to the end of her contract and retirement in eighteen months, when she and Harry had agreed to start trying to conceive. Not having to go through this for a year or so sounded like a fine plan, labor pains and sore feet be damned.

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Chapter 2 - Unexpected Complication

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"Tali..." Karin looked at her, and Tali felt a knot form in her gut. "I apologize, but I must ask. When was the last time you and Andrew had sexual intercourse?"

Tali blinked. "Uh...the night before we hit the Cerberus base. And then everything else happened..." she shrugged.

"Mmm," Karin made a noncommittal noise. "I know that your systems had become desensitized to each other. I take it, therefore, you didn't use a condom?"

"No," Tali replied, blushing. "I mean...like you said, we weren't having negative reactions to each other's...fluids anymore, so why bother?"

"Tali," Karin took one three-fingered hand in hers, and the quarian began to get very nervous. "I ran the test five times, triple-checking the results in each case. I think that this 'synthesis wave' as EDI calls it is responsible. Tali..." She took a deep breath, realizing that she was going to break the younger woman's heart all over again. "You're pregnant."

Tali just stared at the human. "But...but I can't be pregnant," she stammered. "I've never been with anyone but Andrew, and we aren't -- weren't compatible -- "

"Until, as I said, the synthesis wave," Chakwas continued. "Tali, I even did a DNA scan. The zygote is a hybrid. Part-human, part-quarian, part-synthetic. And fully viable."

Tali began to shake her head. "No," she murmured as tears poured down her cheeks. "No, no, no, no, no," she leaned forward into the older woman's embrace, her sorrow too much to bear. "No, Karin, I...I can't do this without Andrew...oh keelah, a child, he'll never know..." She sank into wordless sobbing as Karin held her, offering what little comfort she could.

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Chapter 3 - Fine Dining at Chez Clorinde

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This was it, Navia realized. For the first time in her life, she was about to do something that she'd only fantasized about.

She couldn't have been more excited.

"Navia...please..." Clorinde's smoky voice reached her ears and, blushing, Navia began to slide down the other woman's body. And soon enough, she saw what she never had before: the hair, folds, and cleft of a woman. Of course, being in possession of a perfectly good vulva, Navia was no stranger to the intricate arrangement now displayed, but she'd never actually seen it unless you counted illustrations. Despite being slender and quite lithe, she couldn't exactly fold in half to look at herself, and while some women's publications advised using a hand mirror to examine that area, she'd never done so; she knew what and where everything was, after all.

Now, she was grateful she hadn't. Because Clorinde's sex...her vulva, her pussy, her cunt, was the most arousing thing Navia had ever seen in her life. She gently placed her thumbs on the outer folds and slowly pulled them apart, breath hitching when she saw the tell-tale glimmer of excitement already shining on the inner folds and the opening. Oh, she was going to enjoy this...

"Navia, please," Clorinde's voice was broken, stuttering. "Please..."

That request, the need in the other woman's tone, was enough to break down the last of Navia's hesitance -- she'd never even had this done to her, had no idea apart from reading trashy erotic novels what she was supposed to do -- and she lowered her head, mouth meeting the velvet softness of Clorinde's womanhood, then her tongue darting out to trace up the slit.

She couldn't stop herself from frowning -- the musky-bitter saltiness of her lover's arousal was decidedly unfamiliar, but the strangled moan which ripped from the other woman's throat gave her confidence. If she could do that with the lightest lick...She smiled against the wet flesh pressed to her face, brought her hands up to grip onto Clorinde's magnificent buttocks, and began to feast. The normally cool and collected duelist was quickly reduced to a trembling, writhing shell; moans and gasps of pleasure spilled from her lips in a near unbroken stream, along with exhortions of "more", "yes", and "don't stop". When Navia's tongue laved over the hard bead of her clitoris for the first time, Clorinde actually screamed, fingers snaring themselves into Navia's thick blonde locks and pulling her even closer. Navia began to focus her attentions on the tiny nubbin, and Clorinde's cries grew louder and more frequent until she stiffened and wailed as the orgasm took her, her flesh actually quivering against her lover's mouth. Uncertain if her partner was used to extended stimulation, Navia backed slowly off, each lick or kiss eliciting another twitch in Clorinde's now-limp body, before pulling completely away, tongue darting out to lick the purple-haired woman's arousal from her lips. She smirked upon realizing the flavor was much more agreeable now; perhaps this was the ultimate acquired taste, she chuckled to herself before lying next to her lover

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Chapter 4 - The Future

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As they lay in their bed, Cal Kestis decided it was finally time to ask. "Hey. Merrin?"

His lover turned her face to his. "Yes?"

No guts, no glory, Cal thougt. "Well...we've been together...for quite a while. Almost two years. And I was...wondering..." When the Nightsister arched one eyebrow, he took a deep breath and trusted The Force. "Do you think you'll ever...want to have a child? Children?

The grey-skinned beauty didn't react in a way he would consider 'bad'; instead, her eyes unfocused slightly, something he'd noticed she did when thinking intently. After nearly a minute of silence, her expression cleared. "It's...not something I've been thinking about, honestly. But Dathomiri culture is very focused on family. So...yes, I think I would like to have a child. To have children." She shrugged. "If I ever find the right man, at least."

"Ooooh, that hurts," Cal clutched at his heart, grinning when he heard Merrin giggle at his reaction. By The Force, she had a beautiful laugh. In the next moment, he'd moved his body to cover hers, their mouths meeting in a passionate kiss which they only broke when oxygen became a concern. "It doesn't have to be anytime soon," he murmured as he stroked her cheek. "But when you're ready, I will be as well."

"I know," Merrin smiled up at him. "And...I will be ready one day. I want to be a mother. For us to have a family." He rolled off her and she snuggled into his side. "I love you, Cal Kestis."

"And I love you, Merrin of Dathomir," Cal replied, kissing her forehead, before using his powers to flip off the lamp and darkness take them slowly to their rest.

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Chapter 5 - The Bargain

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"You what?" Ozai stared through the bars, clearly thinking the younger man had lost his mind.

To be fair to the former Fire Lord, he wasn't the only one to think that. Iroh, Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Suki had all raised similar concerns. Only Toph had supported him without question, which would have been worrying enough ordinarily. But Zuko had brushed all their words aside. "I have to do this," he'd whispered to Katara as tears welled in her eyes. "Please, I'm begging you. Try to understand." He'd sighed. "I...I'm not like you, Katara. I'm not...a good person."

"Zuko," Katara had growled dangerously. "Fuck. Off. You are the best man I've ever known. That's why I fell in love with you." She kissed him, long and forcefully, before pulling back and pressing her forehead to his. "We promised never to lie to each other, so I'm not starting now. I don't like this, Zuko. I don't think it's going to help you at all, I think it's a huge mistake." She sighed. "But it's your life. If there's even a chance this will help you, then I think you need to do it. Just...just promise me one thing -- "

"I won't kill him, Katara," Zuko cut her off. "I swear it by my love for you." He chuckled darkly. "I won't even maim him. He's going to live a long, miserable life, knowing every day that our way works. That our way is better."

"Then you have my support," Katara kissed him again. "No matter what time it is when you're...done, come back to our room, okay? I'll need to see you."

"Anything for my lady," Zuko had smirked, then turned and walked out the door.

"You heard me," Zuko snarled, the memory ending. "You and me, old man. Hand to hand, no firebending from me. If you beat me, I'll allow you to go free. If I win, well...you'll be in a hospital bed for a few weeks."

"Ohhh, ho-ho-ho-ho," Ozai chuckled lowly as he stood, stretching his arms and back. "If that's the way you want it, boy, I accept. Not only will I be free, but I'll get to humble you again, and you'll have to live with that. Knowing that even without my bending, you weren't good enough to beat me. That you could never have been good enough."

Zuko flicked a hand and one of the guards stepped foward to unlock the cell. "Take a few minutes to clean up. I don't want to lose because I was nauseated by your stench," he quipped, feeling a savage glee at the look of indignation on Ozai's face. "There are guards every step of the way, you'll only be allowed to go to the roof. Meet me there." Saying so, he turned and stalked out of the room.

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A quarter-hour later, Ozai sauntered up to the makeshift fighting area on the roof of the jail. Having freedom within his grasp had done a great deal for the former tyrant's confidence; he felt better than he had in weeks.

Across the way, Zuko knelt motionless. He'd spent every minute since leaving the cell in meditation, remembering everything Ozai had done to him, to his friends, to the world. He was sitting on a mountain's worth of rage, but thinking of Katara and the promise he'd made to her gave him control. Zuko could feel the fury of his inner fire, straining to be let out, but unlike Ozai, he was not a tool for his anger. It was his, mastered and ready to be unleashed when and how he chose.

"Read to lose again, boy?" Ozai sneered from his place across from Zuko.

"Prisoner Ozai," the warden boomed, and Zuko felt a momentary twinge of humor at the indignation on Ozai's face. "Be warned: if you attempt to escape, my men are under orders to capture you by any means neccessary, including firebending."

"Understood," Ozai snarled. "Come, my son. Let's see what we shall see."

"I am not your son," Zuko said as he rose to his feet. "Uncle was more of a father to me than you ever were. You broke Azula, you broke our mother. You tried to break me, but you failed." He leaned back, setting himself into a stance. "Now, you break."

Ozai dashed forward, growling as he did so. His right hand shot out...

And caught nothing but air. A quarter-second later, Zuko's left shin connected with his gut, driving all his breath out and sending the older man to his knees. He turned to face Zuko, and felt the world turn black for a moment as an elbow impacted his temple, sending everything into a blurry spin.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't stand. As his vision cleared, he saw a rage on Zuko's face that he'd never imagined...one which actually frightened him as he began to realize he'd pushed too far. But perhaps...perhaps he could still win this. "Stop," he rasped. "I yield."

"Good," Zuko growled, then drove his fist into Ozai's face, knocking him to the ground. "But this isn't about you yielding." He aimed a kick at the supine man's ribs, but Ozai rolled just enough to avoid it.

"This is about all the people who died because of you." Zuko spat. Ozai suddenly had a very bad feeling about this. "The people who will never laugh, or cry, or make love with their partner ever again." Ozai rose to his knees, and in a movement so fast he barely saw it, Zuko darted forward, kneeing him in the collar bone. A hit, Ozai realized as he fell back, which had been intended to hurt, not to defeat.

"I don't want you to yield, Ozai," Zuko stalked forward. "I want you to scream."

"And we'll take it from there."

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Chapter 6 - Out of the Bag

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"Are you sure?" Talanah frowned in concern.

"Talanah, he's...Erend," Aloy replied. "He's my friend. He'd never hurt me."

"Angry Oseram aren't known for their incredible restraint, Aloy," Talanah's frown deepened. She'd been right on the verge of an orgasm when Erend walked in on them; needless to say, that had killed the mood dead in its tracks. And of course, after the stammering and a hasty exit, Aloy had insisted she had to go talk with him now.

"I can take care of myself, Talanah," the redhead stated flatly, her voice carrying just a hint of anger. Talanah almost felt hurt until she realized it was directed inward; Aloy had been putting off telling Erend about their relationship for weeks, knowing he was interested in her romantically and not sure how to break it to him, but she'd waited too long.

"I know you can," Talanah tried to soothe her lover, stroking a hand down her face. "And I didn't mean that he'd try to hit you or anything. But there are other ways to hurt someone. Words?"

"Words lost the power to hurt me when I was a child," Aloy simply said. "I'll be back soon." She leaned in and kissed the Carja woman, then turned and left.

"Good luck," Talanah murmured as the Nora walked out of her -- their room -- toward the Base's western exit.

Aloy found Erend only a minute later, sitting on one of the logs which everyone used as benches. She took a moment to appraise him before she approached: he didn't look angry, or sad, or --

"You're losing your touch, flamehair," he cracked. "Letting me hear you?"

"I wasn't trying to sneak," Aloy countered, then walked around and sat facing him. "Uh...so."

"Yeah. So." Erend nodded, then sipped at his mug. Ale, she knew; he no longer let himself drink anything stronger. "You and Talanah, huh?"

Aloy blushed. "I'm sorry," she blurted. "I've been trying to tell you for a while, but I could never get you alone, and I didn't want to say it on a call and -- " She stopped as Erend reached out and gripped her knee.

"Does she make you happy?" He asked.

The redhead nodded. "Yes."

"And we're still friends, right?" She could tell he meant it.

"You're my best friend, Erend," she smiled at him.

"Then I'll be okay," he sat back and sighed. "I mean...full disclosure, I'm not gonna deny it stings a little. I've had feelings for you for a while, now." She opened her mouth to respond, but he held up a hand and she desisted. "But our friendship is more important to me than some unrequited affection. And, if I may be a sexist Oseram prick for a moment," he grinned and Aloy couldn't help but chuckle remembering that particular insult of Zo's. "It helps a lot knowing you're with another woman. Means I never really had a chance and won't torture myself with 'well what does that guy have that I don't have'."

Aloy laughed out loud. "Yeah...no. I guess I really should have made it clear sooner that I thought I preferred women."

"Not a problem," Erend assured her. "I mean it, Aloy. It's not what I wanted, but If you're happy, I'm happy for you. Both of you."

"That..." Aloy nodded. "...It means a lot to hear."

"Now, that being said," he put on a serious face. "If she ever hurts you, she's a dead woman."

Aloy laughed. "I'll be sure to let her know," she smirked, then rose and moved to sit next to him. "Thank you," she said, nudging him with her shoulder.

The big man threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side, squeezing for a moment. "You're welcome." They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, then Erend spoke again. "Of course, 'Erend' would be a really good name for a son, eventually..." He burst into laughter at the look of surprise on Aloy's face, before she joined him.

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Chapter 7 - Morning Surprises

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Tifa Lockhart, twenty-three year old bar owner and martial arts master, yawned and rubbed her eyes as she awoke. Looking to her left, she saw what was a now-familiar sight: her boyfriend, ex-SOLDIER Cloud Strife, propped up on one arm where he'd been watching her sleep.

"Morning, beautiful," he said.

"Mmmm, morning yourself," Tifa cricked her neck and stretched her arms. "What time is it?"

"Almost eight," Cloud answered. "But I gave us the day off."

"Oh, really," Tifa smirked. "And what brought that on?"

Cloud shrugged. "I just decided that...we need to talk."

Tifa bit her lip in worry. "About what?"

"Nothing bad," Cloud touched her cheek with a finger. "Just some things I should have told you a long time ago. Like I'm sorry I ran off and joined SOLDIER. Sorry I was too stupid to see that you cared about me."

"Not as sorry as I am that you thought you had to do that," Tifa frowned. "Cloud, if I'd just been honest with you about my feelings...you never would have left. I've been in love with you since I was fourteen, and I should have told you that it didn't matter to me if you were the strongest man in the world or not."

"Maybe. Or maybe it all --"

"You are not going to say 'maybe it all worked out for the best', are you?" Tifa frowned. "Cloud, a mad scientist ran experiments on you until you didn't know which of three people you were, you still don't have all your memories back, and a genocidal maniac possessed you so many times I lost count. What part of that 'worked out for the best' ?"

Cloud smiled. "Okay, there were some pretty big downsides. But if all that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have been in a position to help save the world...I wouldn't have been able to beat Sephiroth." He stared into Tifa's eyes. "I might not have had the courage to ask you to be with me."

"I would have asked you," Tifa said. "What part of 'I've been in love with you since I was fourteen' didn't you get?"

Cloud nodded. "I can believe that you would have, too. But maybe you'll let me ask you something now."

"Ask away," Tifa grinned.

Cloud sat up, pulling Tifa up to a seated position as well. His eyes briefly flicked to her chest as the sheet slid down, and Tifa smirked. Of the the numerous men who paid attention to her body, Cloud was the only one who didn't make her feel self-conscious about her more than generous endowments. She knew he looked not because they were breasts, but because they were her breasts. Smiling at Cloud's light blush, she couldn't help wondering what was going on.

"Tifa..." Cloud paused, and seemed to be marshalling his resolve. "Will you marry me?"

Tifa blinked. Several times, and Cloud began to get visibly nervous. Then she smiled, that big smile he loved so much, the one that could pull him out of the darkest mood with just a glance at it.

"Yes. I will."

Cloud's face lit up in a more genuine look of happiness than Tifa could remember seeing in a long, long time. He leaned over and gently pressed his lips to hers, then pulled her back down to the mattress as he broke the kiss, holding her to him tightly. Tifa smiled over at him as she saw his eyebrow arch.

"You just waited so long to make me squirm, didn't you?"

"Well, that was part of it," Tifa smirked. "But part of it was...that there's something I know I have to tell you."

"And what would that be?" Cloud asked.

Tifa hesitated for several more seconds, then took a deep breath. "I think I'm pregnant."

Cloud licked his lips. "You think?"

"I mean, I don't know," Tifa explained. "I haven't taken a test or gone to the doctor or anything." She shrugged. "Usually I'm pretty regular, but my period last month was late, really light and only lasted three days. And now I'm late this month, too."

"How late is late?" Cloud asked.

"I...should have started Monday or Tuesday," Tifa admitted.

"Tifa, this is Saturday," Cloud grinned.

"I know!" Tifa groaned. "I just...I just didn't know what to do."

"Well, here's what we do," Cloud kissed her cheek. "First, we have breakfast. Then we go to the market and buy a couple of home pregnancy tests. Then we see what they say."

"Cloud..." Tifa couldn't help worrying. "What if I am pregnant?"

Cloud smiled at her, and Tifa felt her tension dissipate. "Well, if you're pregnant...I'd say that means we're going to have a baby."

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Chapter 8 - Turmoil

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Severus Snape was alone in his office, reading through the latest suggested revisions to the N.E.W.T. standard potions text he had been contracted to write. He replaced his quill in the inkstand and sat back a moment to consider whether the last issue was a valid point or if his editor was just being picky --

His head swiveled toward the door of the room, hearing the unmistakable sounds of someone walking down the hallway...along with the equally unmistakable sounds of emotional distress: sniffling and shuddering breaths. "Da?" Came a thick voice. "Are you busy?"

"Never too busy for you, my dear," Severus answered as he filed his thoughts away for later retrieval. The half-open door swung wide and Cassandra, Severus and Hermione's fourteen-year old daughter, walked into the room, her face drawn and troubled. Her shoulder-length black hair was not as curly as her mother's, nor thankfully as stick-straight as her father's, and she had inherited most of Hermione's facial features, with only Severus' sharp cheekbones readily apparent. Something in the genetics from one set of grandparents or another had gotten through, because her large, expressive eyes were neither brown nor black, but a soft hazel which was uniquely hers. She'd been a 'late bloomer' and was only now getting taller, but already neared her mother in height.

When Hermione had told Severus fifteen years ago that she was pregnant, he'd been struck by a moment of untempered horror, blurting out that he didn't know anything about being a father. Hermione, being Hermione, had archly questioned just what he thought she knew about being a mother, and realizing that neither of them had any idea what they were getting into had been a moment of clarity the likes of which he'd seldom experienced. They must have done something right, he mused, because Cassandra (and her two younger siblings) had turned into wonderful children, but there were still things every day that surprised him.

"Hey," she offered weakly.

"Come sit," Severus rose from his office chair and moved over to the sofa near the hearth. When she'd done so, he turned toward her, taking her left hand in both of his. "Is something the matter?"

"I...it's just..." Cassandra fumbled her words and Severus fought down a momentary panic that he'd interfered in her bringing an 'intimate issue' to Hermione. Seventeen years of marriage to a woman with a matter-of-fact attitude about it had taught him equilibrium in dealing with such things, but even though he knew empirically his daughter was subject to her body's monthly cycle, it was still an unwanted reminder that his 'little girl' was growing up. Luckily, his worries were quickly squashed.

"It's just...you ever have one of those days -- those weeks -- that just sucks?" She chuckled mirthlessly.

"Of course," Severus nodded. "Anything in particular?"

"No, I mean...not really," Cassandra shook her head. "Just stressing out about stuff. And it's stuff that doesn't even matter, not really!" She looked at her father plaintively. "It's just my stupid brain obsessing over shite that even I won't care about in a month."

"Cassandra," Severus began, "I doubt you want to hear me say this, but believe me when I say I know what you are going through. It seems, quite unfortunately, that you have been cursed with both mine and your mother's tendency to overthink things."

"Tell me about it, " she muttered. "Life seemed a lot easier when I was little. I used to want to get older, you know?" Cassandra shrugged. "To grow up, go to Hogwarts. But -- I just, sometimes...sometimes I just get so overwhelmed..."

Severus wasn't under any illusions that Cassandra's struggles equalled his own at her age, however he also knew that -- luckily -- his experience had been far from the norm. Most children, in fact, did not grow up in physically, verbally, and emotionally abusive households, but this didn't mean their lives seemed any easier to them. Being trapped in a body which felt like it was constantly changing while you stewed in a bubbling cocktail of hormones and new feelings...well, the simple truth was that it just was not easy to be a teenager.

"I understand, my dear," Severus squeezed her hand gently and felt her return the gesture. "Your old da was your age once. I know it sounds like an empty platitude, but it does get easier." He sighed; no point in sugarcoating it. "And it gets more difficult, as well. There will be days when everything is sunshine and unicorns, and others when you contemplate how much better things would be if Voldemort had been victorious." That got a snort of amusement from her, and in the next instant she was doubled over laughing. When she'd calmed down, Severus continued. "All you can do is keep going forward."

"So it really is like Uncle Harry says," Cassandra replied. " 'Some days you feel invincible, like you can take on the world. Other days, you struggle to screw the lid back on the jar'."

Severus chuckled; his relationship with his old tormentor's son had improved markedly since his near death, and while they'd never be bosom friends, they were at least civil. "Couldn't put it any better." He smirked at his oldest child and opened his arms. "Want a hug?"

Cassandra's face cracked again, worrying him. "Yeah," she whispered. "I think I do." She leaned into his embrace and they closed their arms around each other, with Cassandra pressing her left cheek against his chest the way she did as a child. Severus frowned; she'd begun to shake, and in the next instant he heard her sobbing. His own face twisted into an expression of sympathy at feeling his daughter's sorrow, then he simply held on as she wept into his shirt.

A few minutes later, Cassandra finally calmed, and gently extricated herself, wiping her eyes as she sat back. "Feel any better?" He asked.

"Actually...yes. Quite a bit," she smiled, her entire attitude seeming like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she stood up.

"Cassie," Severus rose and once more took her hand in his. "You know that anytime you want to talk to me, for any reason at all, I will be there for you. Even if you just want another hug, all you need do is ask."

Cassandra smiled again. "Thanks, Da," she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, then he returned the gesture.

"Now off to bed with you," Severus pointed toward the door. "We have an early day tomorrow buying you and your brother's supplies."

"Can you and I go to Knockturn Alley?" Cassandra arched one eyebrow mischieveously.

"Maybe," Severus winked at her, then she giggled and left the room.

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