St Mungo's!

Disclaimer: JKR owns the rights to anything you recognize in this fic. I wish I did, but alas! Life is like a box of Bertie Bott's. Sometimes you get chocolate fudge, sometimes you get earwax.

AN: And now for the final installment. I hope you've enjoyed reading this ficlet as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I am currently working on getting the rough drafts for the sequels tightened up and am chasing around some plot bunnies for a possible prequel (or two).

Something I have forgotten to mention in my earlier chapters and for which I should be flayed alive and dragged over many salt flats - all these chapters were beta-ed by the wonderful Tevildo! Much love to him!

Severus groaned as he opened his eye to bright sunlight streaming in through the high windows of his room. He was sprawled across the bed. He didn't remember getting into his pyjama bottoms, but was glad that he did – he hated the tangle of robes when he fell asleep fully clothed.

A tuneless humming permeated the throbbing in his head. He groaned. The days where he could consume a small basinful of alcohol and come off unscathed had obviously passed. What he needed was some hangover remedy... and he needed it fast.

Movement caught his eye. Painfully cracking his other eye open he saw Aurelia sitting on the floor by his bed. The humming was coming from her. His daughter was quietly arranging her buttons in neat piles according to rules evident only to her. Suddenly her small finger disappeared up to the first knuckle in her nose.

"Aurelia, do not do that."

"But Daddy, my –"

"I can never see an excusable reason as to why you, or anyone for that matter, would insert her finger into her nostril," he croaked, his voice rough from sleep.

She quietly stared at him for a while. "But Daddy... my favourite button's twin brother is gone," she explained, holding up a rather large pink button.

"Where did you have it last, Poppet?" he murmured, his eyes drifting closed again.

"Right here. I was seeing how far I could blow him, but he got stuck and –"

Severus shot up in bed, very much awake and sober all of the sudden. "What?"

"I was seeing how far I could blow him and –"

Severus grabbed her head and tilted it back, peering up her nostrils. He couldn't see anything. Oh gods... what if it slipped down into her airway? She'd choke! He shrugged on his dressing gown and scooped her up.

"Let us go and see Madame Pomfrey. Maybe she can retrieve your button," he said as calmly as possible, hoping she couldn't feel his heart hammering against her little body as he swept swiftly up the stairs towards the infirmary.

"Poppy? Poppy!" he called out as he opened the doors. She wasn't there. He groaned, of course she wouldn't be there... she was at her sister's for a week. It was summer, after all, and there were no students for her to tend. Luckily there was a back-up plan.

Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, he stepped into the wide hearth of the infirmary. "Hold on tight to Daddy, Aurelia. St. Mungo's!!" There was a flash of green and then the hearth was empty again.

***

"Uncle Remus told me the greatest story last night, Daddy! It was about a rabbit and a fox and the rabbit got thrown into these thorns but he was happy because the fox couldn't get him and -"

"Aurelia... Daddy has a headache..." They had been sitting in the waiting area for over three hours. The scene he had caused an hour ago did nothing to bump them ahead in the queue and instead resulted in the receptionist flashing him nasty looks at every opportunity, which he answered with equally hostile scowls.

"Aurelia Snape?"

Severus gathered Aurelia up and hurried over to the mediwitch in case they decided to skip him entirely. She led him to a curtained cubicle and indicated the examination couch. Severus set Aurelia down and she sat dangling her legs over the edge while he hovered protectively by her side like some dark angel. The effect was much diminished by his bare feet, messy hair and the dressing gown over his bare upper body.

"Hi. My name is Claire. What's your name?" the mediwitch asked Aurelia, who smiled brightly and chirruped her name. "What a lovely name! How old are you, Aurelia?"

"She is four," Severus supplied impatiently. Were these people determined to see his child die a horrible death? Why weren't they doing anything?

The mediwitch's gaze flicked to him. "She's as cute as a button! What seems to the problem, Mr. Snape?"

Severus shot her a withering look. "It would appear that she has... lost a button up her nose," he replied through gritted teeth, almost daring her to laugh at the situation, but she didn't.

"Wife away for the weekend?" she asked off-handedly while doing a general check on Aurelia.

"I... yes."

"You might not believe me, but this happens all the time. Don't feel bad about it."

"I do no-" Severus began angrily.

"Aurelia, you wouldn't guess what I do for a living! I am a heffalump hunter. Do you know where heffalumps like to live? Inside little girls' noses!"

Aurelia giggled uncontrollably. "Nuh uh!"

"Yuh huh! Can I look up your nose to check for heffalumps?"

"Okay!" Aurelia was still giggling when the mediwitch shone a thin beam of light from her wand up her nose, her eyes darting from side to side with practiced movements.

"No heffalumps there! And no buttons either," she added as she turned towards Severus. "She's swallowed it. It should come out the natural way in a few days."

"But what if it is working its way to her lungs?"

"Trust me, Mr. Snape, we'd know by now if that were the case. Your little girl is perfectly healthy, you can take her home," she said as she made some notes on her clipboard. "You can settle your bill before you leave."

Severus scowled at the smiling woman, but scooped Aurelia up and left the cubicle with an impressive snap of his dressing gown hem.

***

Severus spent the early afternoon casting an Obstruktus charm on all the small objects in their quarters. The charm prevented things from being wedged into tight spaces, repelling the object away when a certain pressure was exerted on it. He was confident that this would prevent any future trips to the hospital.

He was just finishing up all the Muggle pennies Hermione kept in a jar on the bookshelf (Merlin knew why), when he heard a ping sound followed by a giggle. He stuck his head around Aurelia's door.

She was sitting on the floor, all of her (now safe) buttons spread out in front of her. She noticed him by the door, her eyes twinkling happily. "Look at my new game, Daddy!" She selected one of them and set it down on the hardwood floor. Slapping her hand down quickly onto the back of the charmed button caused it to shoot across the floor, coming to rest a few inches ahead of a blue speckled button.

She clapped her hands in glee. "They go much further now than when I tried blowing them! Do you want to try too, Daddy?"

He was about to decline, when he saw that solemn look she always wore in his presence slowly eclipsing her smile. "Of course! But you will have to pick a button for me."

Her face screwed up in concentration as she contemplated the pile of buttons. By the time he had folded himself onto the floor next to her, she held up a button triumphantly. "This one, Daddy! It's like yours!" Sure enough, the button was shiny and black. He took it from her, placing it on the floor and pressing down on the back with one finger. It lurched sluggishly across the floor, not even reaching a third of the way to her two markers.

"No, Daddy! Like this." Severus allowed himself to be instructed, bathing in the attention and unending chatter his daughter provided. An hour later they had moved the game out into the hallway, laughing together and urging their buttons across the floor with shouted encouragement.

Severus felt curiously carefree when he laughed with her, his smooth baritone chuckles mixing with her high-pitched childish giggles. So this was what he was missing reading by the fire? No wonder Hermione was so flushed and breathless and happy when she returned from Aurelia's presence – the child was like a catalyst; the more she laughed, the more you laughed.

She was currently splashing around in the bath, pretending to be an otter and sloshing water over the sides. Instead of reprimanding her when his slippers and dressing gown got soaked, he'd just shrugged them off and laughed. She had finally settled enough for him to wash her hair. After rinsing, he lifted her out of the tub and folded her into a big fluffy towel. He was sitting on the edge of the tub, carefully combing snarls out of her wet hair when he caught her staring up at him.

"What is it, Aurelia?"

"Daddy... why do you have so many white lines on your skin?"

White lines? His scars... How do you explain torture to a four year old? "Daddy was in a war, Poppet. I got hurt badly, but I am all right now."

"Who hurt you, Daddy?"

"Bad people."

She looked up at him fearfully. "Can they hurt me?"

"No... Daddy made sure that they could never hurt anyone else." He hugged her close to him. "I would never let anyone hurt you, Auri."

"Why don't you smile as much as Mummy?"

He sighed, breathing in her innocence. "Daddy was very sad for a very long time. I thought I had forgotten how to smile, but now everyday I remember a bit more, but sometimes I still forget."

"Do I help you to remember, Daddy?"

From the mouths of babes, Severus thought, smiling ruefully. "Yes, Poppet."

***

Hermione came in a few minutes after ten, fully expecting Severus to still be up and reading in front of the fire. The living room was dark except for the glowing embers in the grate. She could see his arm on the armrest.

"Severus?" she called softly, but there was no movement.

She quietly rounded the chair and smiled at the scene in front of her. Severus was sitting in his pyjama bottoms with a book held limply in his sleeping hand. Aurelia was sprawled out across his lap and chest, her wild brown curls a golden nimbus against his pale skin in the glow from the hearth. Aurelia stirred in her sleep, and Hermione saw her husband unconsciously tightening his arm around her daughter protectively.

Hermione's smile broadened as her eyes travelled down his body to his feet - he was wearing his sheepskin slippers.