#knightwrites

Great power always comes along with a heavy burden. Turpin knew it too well, being a judge. Many fates depended on his choices, many lives had changed forever (or even had ended) because of his decisions.

As much as Turpin loved to feel his power over others, witnessing both the desperate prayers and the helpless anger in the courtroom, he couldn't deny the toll his profession took on him. All the stress, all the noise, all the paperwork...

Judge Turpin needed help. Thus why he hired you as his assistant.

"Y/N," Turpin's voice sounded cold as steel, when you entered his office. He was very tired and annoyed after the long hard day at the court.

"Yes, sir?" You involuntarily shivered, though you weren't the reason of his irritation. You knew Lord Turpin required only the highest standards, and you always followed his orders flawlessly, but still... You knew how dangerous he was.

"I need your assistance, Y/N," he said, putting aside the papers. Your intuition told you that the judge didn't mean any ordinary task like a mundane paperwork or a cup of coffee. He needed something else...

You understood it clearly, when Turpin leaned back in his armchair and unbuckled his belt. It was better to not test the judge's patience by doubting and hesitating, so you immediately came closer and kneeled between his legs.

"Good," Turpin's voice softened even just a bit, when he saw your obedience. He continued and unbuttoned his trousers, revealing his dick right in front of your face.

The judge expected to see a fear, a disgust, a confusion at least... But instead, you gently stroked his manhood, from the plump belly to the sensitive end.

"Ah... You know what to do, don't you?" the judge raised an eyebrow, watching your reaction. Your eagerness to please him surprised Turpin, making him forget about the exhausting day at work.

"I do," you nodded, and then you carefully took his dick into your mouth. Somehow, it felt like a great privilege, a honor even - to be allowed to get that intimate with the judge, to have an access to his most vulnerable part...

Turpin gasped quietly, feeling the tender touch of your lips on his sensitive flesh. His heartbeat quickened - you clearly felt that one pulsating vein with your tongue.

"You're doing... good... Y/N..." Turpin said between the muffled moans, his voice sounded raw and a bit hoarse. Intelligent and sophisticated man, now he was succumbing to the lustful desires, grabbing your hair while thrusting into your mouth.

You didn't disappoint him, taking his dick in as far as physiologically possible. It wasn't easy, considering his length and thickness, especially in the fully erected state... But you were doing your best.

"Y/N..." Turpin called your name again when he jolted, reaching the climax. The sweet orgasmic pleasure flowed through him, relaxing both his body and his mind. Here Turpin was, a mighty and powerful judge, now half-laying in the armchair like a limp ragdoll.

You didn't need to ask if he enjoyed your stress reliving service - oh, Turpin loved it. Pure bliss, utter satisfaction... No, it wasn't an ordinary blowjob, it was a genuine and sincere intimacy, something what he hadn't experienced in a very, very long time.

"You're... the best assistant I couldn't even dream of," Turpin said almost gently, catching his breath. He wasn't good at expressing the gratefulness, but he tried at least, patting your head and wiping the thick salty liquid from the corner of your lips with a thumb.

You were aware that the week had been extremely long and intense for Zayne. 

He had been barely sleeping between shifts, trying to survive his inhuman schedule. 

From the very beginning of your relationship, it had been clear that work would take most of his time and mental energy. You accepted and supported his career as much as you could. You were endlessly proud of him and wondered how he could juggle his career as a cardiac surgeon, researcher, lecturer, and still find time for you. 

Yet, you missed him incredibly. Except for sparse messages and calls in the last ten days, you didn’t manage to meet up in person. You craved his warmth just as much as someone who wants to bask in it during a harsh winter. The time away from him always felt like a cold December evening. Whatever emotions your lover was able to stir inside of you with a glance alone, you could not help but chase them. 

An operation that week failed. Zayne didn’t disclose many details regarding it, but whenever his stable hands failed to repair the impossible, it would weigh heavily on his heart for days. You wanted to somehow alleviate his mind. To be there for him, just like he always was for you.

The argument wasn’t even dramatic.

It started harmlessly. That was the worst part.

It was quiet, sharp-edged, the kind that slipped between sighs and settled silently in the room.

Your throat tightened. You tried to help, but he refused… Again.

“You can’t just keep shutting me out, Zayne,” you said, voice trembling despite your effort to keep it steady. “I’m here. I want to be here. But you never let me in.”

Zayne stood by the kitchen counter, pouring himself a glass of water, tie loosened but still on. His face was a mask of calmness and control. The same composure he wore in operating rooms, in hospital corridors, in moments where panic would have killed someone.

“I’m tired,” he said simply. “I don’t have the energy for this tonight.”

That hurt more than if he had raised his voice.

“This?” you echoed softly. “I’m not this, Zayne. I’m your girlfriend.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s what you said.”

Silence stretched. He didn’t chase after your words. He didn’t reach for you. He didn’t do anything except stand there like a man carved from ice, as if he moved even an inch, his composure would fracture.

You grabbed your jacket, exasperated. 

“I’m leaving,” you said, already heading for the door. “Because right now, I feel like I’m talking to a wall.”

The door closed behind you with a click.

Final.

Zayne’s breath hitched the second you were gone. The apartment felt unbearably quiet.

The headache he had been suffering all day wasn’t as bad as the sudden worry washing over him. 

His mind immediately pondered over different scenarios, and guilt flooded him mercilessly.

It’s late. She’s upset. What if something happens? What if—

He didn’t even bother taking off his half-undone tie. He grabbed his keys and dashed out the door.

You had been crying on your way to the convenience store, trying to make sense of what just happened back inside the apartment.

Am I overreacting? 

You didn’t want to harm him. You wanted to help Zayne unwind. You wanted him to lean on you. Why didn’t he allow himself to be vulnerable with you? Didn’t he trust you enough yet? 

Maybe you not being a doctor played a role? 

Your head was a mess of chaotic thoughts and unbidden doubts. You didn’t question his love for you, yet his reaction made you pensive.

The light of the convenience store was too bright for your eyes, now reddened by tears, so it made you blink twice as you entered. The fridges buzzed softly in the background. 

You stood near the snacks shelf, arms wrapped around yourself, staring blankly at the rows of chips like they held all the answers to your problem.

“Hey,” a voice said gently next to you.

You turned to see a guy, probably younger than you, holding a basket full of instant ramen and various treats. His expression was concerned, but not intrusive. “You okay?” He asked hesitantly, probably afraid to scare you away. 

“I’m fine,” you said quickly with a small smile, wiping your cheek.

“Just… wanted to check,” he said, awkward but kind. “You shouldn’t be out alone this late if you’re upset.”

That’s when the door chimed.

Zayne froze the moment he saw you.

Relief hit him first. His heart gave a loud thud. Then he noticed the young man, probably a university student, standing too close, speaking to you, watching you with concern that wasn’t his to give. Something primal flared inside him before he could stop it.

He crossed the store in long strides.

“(Y/N),” you heard the soothing voice you could recognise among thousands. You gasped and turned to see your lover stepping between you and the stranger. His hand closed around your wrist, not rough, but firm and grounding. “You are here.”

Traitorously, your heart stuttered as your gaze met his, instantly recognizing the storm of emotions trapped within those green eyes. It was far more than he ever allowed himself to admit, and that realization hit you hard. The way he stood beside you, unyielding and protective, needed no words. His presence alone was enough to surround you.

The younger guy blinked, startled. “Whoa, man! I was just asking if she was okay.”

Zayne’s grip tightened reflexively, his voice low. The protectiveness inside him was stirring. “Thank you for your concern. You might leave now.”

“Zayne,” you said softly, trying to understand why he suddenly behaved like that. It wasnt like Zayne at all to follow you outside after an argument. It wasn’t like him to act this protective and territorial either. Despite that, you couldn’t stop the sensation spreading in your body. Whenever he was next to you, you felt safe.

The guy didn’t seem convinced and inquired further. “Does she… know you? You could be anyone in the middle of the night.”

You turned fully toward the student, meeting his eyes, before Zayne could reply, “Yeah. He’s my boyfriend.”

The tension eased immediately.

“Oh,” the guy said, embarrassment flashing across his face. He glanced between the two of you, then sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

He hesitated, then looked directly at Zayne. “Still, don’t make your girl cry, man.”

And with that, he walked towards the cashier and left the couple alone.

Zayne exhaled shakily, the adrenaline draining all at once. He loosened his grip immediately, hands hovering like he was afraid to break you.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to grab you like that. I just… I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I was relieved to find you here.”

Your anger softened at the edges.

“I just walked,” you murmured, not quite confident to meet his eyes yet. “I needed to breathe.” You looked away, while chewing on your bottom lip, trying to sort out your words and feelings at the same time. 

“I know,” he said, voice quieter now. “But when you left… I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong. I should’ve said something.”

You studied him. The tired lines under his eyes, the way his shoulders finally slumped now that he knew you were safe.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you said. “I just felt… shut out.”

He swallowed.

“I don’t do it because I don’t care,” he said carefully, as if sensing you spiral. “I do it because if I let myself feel everything… I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold it together.”

Your chest ached. 

He was terrified of letting his pain become mine.

“I don’t need you to be unbreakable,” you whispered. “I just need you to be here with me. To share your burden with me.”

Something in his eyes cracked. Not enough to shatter, but enough to let warmth seep through.

“I was so worried,” he admitted quietly. “The thought of losing you, of you walking away because I couldn’t say the right thing… It terrified me.”

You stepped closer, resting your forehead against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat racing restlessly.

“I’m not leaving,” you said softly. “But you have to let me stand next to you. Not behind.”

His arms came around you slowly, carefully, like he was afraid you would disappear if he held you too tight. Then he pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “For the argument. For shutting down. For making you feel alone.”

“I’m sorry too,” you said. “For walking out instead of explaining.”

He brushed his thumb under your eye, wiping away the last trace of tears.

“Come home,” he said gently. “Please.”

You smiled faintly. “Only if you promise not to pretend you’re a snowman.”

He huffed a quiet breath, almost a laugh.

“No promises,” he said. “But… I’ll try. For you.”

Back into the coziness of Zayne’s apartment, you were greeted by dim lights. Apparently, he didn’t even bother to turn them off before going outside to look for you. 

When you slipped off your shoes, he wordlessly took your jacket, fingers brushing yours intentionally.

“Sit,” he murmured, gently guiding you toward the couch. You obeyed his soft request, watching as he moved to the kitchen. He loosened his tie completely now, finally shedding the last remnant of the hospital. 

When he returned, he handed you a mug of chamomile tea with both hands, carefully, as if this small act was something sacred. You wrapped your fingers around it and thanked him.

Zayne sat beside you, close enough that your knees brushed. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, slowly, he reached for you. His arm came around your shoulders, pulling you in until your head rested over his heart. He exhaled shakily, chin resting atop your head. You leaned into him immediately, as if your body had been waiting for nothing else than his closeness.

“I don’t say it enough,” he murmured, voice low and tired. “But having you here… it helps more than you know.”

Your fingers toyed with the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t have to carry everything alone, Zayne.”

“I know,” he said after a pause. “I’m learning.”

The word learning mattered.

Time passed, and his breathing evened out, slow and steady, like he was finally allowing himself to rest. You felt his grip tighten just slightly, a subconscious anchor.

“You’re warm,” he muttered, half-drowsy.

You laughed quietly. “So much for the snowman act.”

“Hm,” he hummed. “You’re ruining my reputation.”

You tilted your head up, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw. He stilled but melted almost immediately, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as if that single kiss had undone him.

“Stay,” he whispered.

“I will,” you replied just as softly.

And for the very first time, Zayne let himself lean fully into you: safe, held, and no longer alone.

No, this is all wrong, Turpin thought. He shouldn't have got attached to his assistant. His heart shouldn't flutter everytime you coming in his office. He shouldn't have...

While it was a very common practice to have an intimate affairs with assistants and secretaries, with you it felt very different. Much more than a simply casual sex, much more meaningful somehow.

Was it... Was it this thing described in the fancy novels? Was it... love?..

Turpin huffed at this thought. Ridiculous. It couldn't be. Just a mere physiological reaction on the younger lover's body, nothing else. He tried to convince himself, and was fairly successful... until you entered his office again.

"Good evening, sir," you greeted Turpin with a soft smile, being ready, and even enthusiastic, for the next task he had for you.

"You're doing very well, Y/N. I have no business to do for today. I wanted to... reward you, for your excellent service," Turpin said, his tone a bit gentler than usual. He took a box of the chocolate candies out of the locker - not the fresh strawberries, but still, the best option possible to find in England this season. The judge picked one of the candies and gestured you to come closer, clearly intending to feed you from hand.

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it," you nodded and came closer, obediently and docile. You were close enough for Turpin to grab your waist and pull you to him, making you sit on his laps. You didn't expect him to simply handle the box to you, did you?

"Open your mouth," Turpin commanded, and you followed his order without hesitation. He putted the candy on your tongue, slightly brushing your lips with a thumb... This gesture recalled the memories of your previous encounter with the judge, arousing both of you, but he didn't act on his lust just yet, deliberately prolonging the foreplay. "Good pet."

You felt the noble bitterness of the dark chocolate, and then the tender strawberry in the cognac syrup. The candies tasted... just like sir Turpin himself.

"Would you like to share them, sir?" you asked politely. It was incredibly difficult to keep your composure while straddling Turpin's laps, but you didn't forget about the etiquette even in such a spicy position.

"No, I prefer something more... sweet," Turpin responded in his signature low and velvet voice. Was his flirting cheesy? Yes, it was. Did it work? Yes, it worked perfectly, turning you on. Turpin was well aware of the effect his voice had on you. He leaned in to kiss your lips, roughly and passionately, as if claiming you as his own.

Turpin loved to see you like that. You were a flustered mess, blushing brightly, biting your lips to keep the arousal at bay. Not yet. You were a good assistant, you couldn't do anything without his command. Turpin loved your obedience, your devotion and dedication. He loved you.

"Impressive self-control, Y/N," the judge teased you, stroking your cheek. As much as he enjoyed torturing you with waiting, his teasing backfired on himself. His own dick quickly became painfully hard, the wet spots of the precum tainted the stretched fabric of his trousers.

Turpin surrendered first. His hands trembled, yet he unbuttoned his trousers quite swiftly and even elegantly - he had a long years of experience, after all. You watched the judge, and you understood his intentions immediately. You slightly changed the position to pull your pants off, together with the underwear.

The judge wasn't in the mood for pain today, so he took a perfume flacon from his desk... You were confused, but when he generously poured the thick liquid on his crotch, you understood everything. Actually it was a lubricant, disguised as a French cologne... Clever move, considering Turpin's tendencies to get intimate right on the working place in his office.

"You're a quick learner, aren't you?" Turpin smirked, grabbing you again and pulling you as close as physically possible. You found yourself pressed against his chest, feeling his pounding heartbeat and labored breathing... Also you felt his dick pulsating eagerly against your bare thigh.

Despite his violent tendencies, he chose to be gentle with you. Turpin could get anything he wanted by force or fear, to the point that it had lost all the thrill. Your trust and willingness, vice versa, was refreshing, the best compliment to his ego possible.

"Mine... You're mine..." Turpin whispered to your ear, grabbing your buttocks to adjust you on his laps properly. You gasped, feeling his thick cock sliding inside you. The judge wished he could photograph your facial expression forever in his memory, the moment of trust and vulnerability, of lust and love.

"Yours... Only yours..." you answered with a soft moan. You clearly struggled to formulate a somewhat coherent respond, but you didn't want to disappoint the judge. You held his broad shoulders, as if anchoring yourself in the storm of overwhelming sensations. Turpin, meanwhile, held you too, but a bit more intimately, grabbing your bottom to keep you on the place... and because he loved to feel the softness.

Despite Turpin's advanced age, his sheer passion was enough to match your tempo. You two moved in a perfect rhythm, each thrust and each squeeze in synchrony.

It was different. Turpin was so used to the absentminded frictions without even bothering to remember the name of an another fancy paramour... But you were special to him. You didn't chase after the judge's power nor wealth, you genuinely loved him. Ah, what a complement to a man in his 60's! Turpin's ego was flattered, he felt proud of himself for an ability to satisfy your youthful desires.

You came hard, with your arms wrapped around the judge's neck. All the muscles in your body seemed to relax at once, making you lose your balance and lean in with all your weight. It made Turpin come too, right after you, feeling lightheaded from such an intense lovemaking. He squeezed you tightly in his embrace, inhaling your scent deeply, relishing this intimate closeness with you.

"I don't know what I've done to deserve you, Y/N" Turpin spoke, gently caressing your back as the most precious treasure, his voice still a bit husky in orgasmic afterglow.

"So devoted, dedicated, loyal, faithful..." the judge paused, hesitating to call you 'an assistant'. No, you were much, much more than a mere errand runner... Turpin's greying head was completely empty, no thoughts at all, just bliss and pleasure, he couldn't choose a correct word for you.

The clock counted the last minutes before the official start of the winter break. Severus, though, had an uneasy gut feeling, the evening felt suspiciously calm and tranquil. Could he just enjoy the well-deserved rest?

Maybe, just maybe, Merlin was merciful for once...

Severus deeply sighed, when he heard a sudden knock in the door of his classroom at the late dark hour. Of course, it couldn't be that simple. Let it be Minerva, with her schedule altered by her nocturnal feline nature. Or Hermione, who brought the potion textbooks she borrowed earlier, she always tended to forget about the time while studying... Or...

"Severus, it's very important. We need your help."

Severus' hopes and dreams about the peaceful weekend had brutally crushed, when he saw Hagrid's towering figure standing in his doorframe, with a blanket cocoon in his arms.

"We?" Severus asked in a hushed tone. It was Rubeus Hagrid, his 'we' could mean literally any living being of the Wizarding World.

In answer, Rubeus carefully unraveled the soft fabric, revealing the tiny, fluffy creature... The dragon hatchling. Severus caught himself being confused, this little chick didn't match the classical image of a ferocious beast he had in his mind, way too adorable.

"She's too young to eat the regular meat... Dragons feed their offspring via regurgitation, like the birds, and only you can replicate something as acidic as a dragon saliva," Hagrid explained why exactly he came namely to Severus, the potion master. It was both absolutely sensible and utterly absurd.

"Again. You're asking me... To cook a baby food... for a dragon?" Severus pinched the bridge of his nose out of old habit, clarifying if he understood Rubeus correctly. Severus had never thought he would find himself in the role of a dragon nurse... But, it seemed, his plans for the winter break now had a fuzzy soft feathers and a tiny sharp teeth.

The hatching heard them talking, and woke up. She cautiously peeked her disproportionately large head from the blanket, observed Severus' classroom with her big sad eyes... And cried, realizing that it wasn't her nest.

Too similar to a human toddler. Children's grief sounded the same for all the species.

"Just like... Harry..." Severus whispered subconsciously, feeling his heart breaking in the thousands of shards, recalling the flashbacks from that nightmarish day. A child that lost their parents. Suddenly it became obvious how Rubeus got this hatchling. He found her orphaned, in the empty nest, alone, cold and hungry...

"Shh... It's alright... You're safe now..." Hagrid cooed in his low, deep baritone, petting the chick's head in attempt to soothe and calm her down. Meanwhile, Severus immediately rushed into the action, browsing his potion storage, searching the components that could emulate the dragon digestive acids, and putting the thickest of his gloves on.

"I knew you'll agree," Hagrid said to Severus. If Severus wasn't that busy, he would huff in response, of course, famous beast tamer Hagrid could find an approach to any dangerous creature, including the dragons, werewolves... and certain potion masters.

"Good thing I don't need to regurgitate it myself..." Severus muttered under his breath, soaking a small piece of the raw meat in the finished concoction. It looked disgusting. It smelt disgusting. Though Severus nor Rubeus weren't bothered, focusing on the chick's needs. They both had witnessed things far worse, after all.

The hatchling was stressed, terrified even, finding herself in the strange surroundings of the weird human creatures, without her dragon family. Yet she has no other choice but to trust them... Reluctantly and slowly, she accepted the first morsel of the softened meat from Severus' gloved hand.

"She needs a proper name, would be rude to refer to her just as a chick all the time," Hagrid suggested, holding the blanket cocoon carefully, while Severus was feeding the next fermented morsel to the hatchling.

Severus was about to protest, because they shouldn't get too attached to the wild beast... But the sentimental part of him overpowered his calculated rationality. This poor child already had endured too much, she deserved to be acknowledged at least.

"Moonlight," Severus spoke his first association. The hatchling's big, round, shining eyes contrasted with her black, dense, fluffy feathers, indeed reminded him the moon in the dark night sky.

"So Moonlight she will be," Hagrid nodded in agreement. After a brief pause, he added, almost sheepishly, "Can she stay with you for a bit? Unless she's too smal for breathing fire... And I'm dealing with the formalities, you know..."

Severus frowned. He recalled that Rubeus recently got in the trouble as his creatures managed to escape and wreck the havoc at the school, no wonder he wanted to hide under the radars for a while after that incident. Also, Severus himself was... okay, not the perfect, but the closest candidate for the dragon babysitting. He had no plans for a vacation, nor a family to hang with on the winter break.

"You owe me," Severus said in the strict tone, picking Moonlight up, still wrapped in the blanket. It was an attempt to maintain his stern reputation, by asking Hagrid to gather the rare herbs in the Forbidden Forest in exchange for keeping Moonlight... Definitely not because this little dragon chick melted Severus' heart completely, of course not.

"Parental instincts are universal for all the species," Rubeus nodded with a soft, knowing smile. Severus wasn't sure if it was about the dragons... or about him.

***

"Well, still better than the bare rocks... Or where do you dragons usually sleep," Severus introduced to Moonlight her new home... his own chamber. She easily fitted on the chair cushion, and he thought it would be her temporary sleeping place... He was wrong. As soon as Moonlight lost the physical contact with him, she begun to whine and whimper, clearly asking to be held again.

Severus sighed, but picked her up nonetheless. He understood her fear to be left alone and abandoned, her deep emotional trauma was more important than his brief inconvenience. Cradling Moonlight to his chest with one hand, Severus looked at his bookshelves, wondering if he had something useful to read about her kind.

Unfortunately, the most of the books in his library were focused on the potions, alchemy and chemistry. The only encyclopedia of the magical creatures was terrible outdated, there was a detailed description of the dragons' anatomy, but almost nothing about their development and behavior. The information that could be gathered from the dead beasts, not from observing them alive.

"Fluff baby feathers... No fire breathing... yet... Meat must be pre-fermented... acidic bile..." Severus muttered to himself, adding the notes straight on the pages, like he used to do. Moonlight curled up in his other arm, adorably covering her muzzle with her tail, like a kitten. Severus looked at the picture in the book, then at the little chick, struggling to comprehend that one day, Moonlight will be as dangerous... and as majestic, as the mighty dragons from the illustrations.

When Severus felt that the letters became too blurry to read, he finally surrendered to his tiredness. Moonlight seemed a bit confused when he changed his usual black attire to his gray nightgown, she had no concept of the clothes, and it looked odd for her to swap the colors that quickly. The chick sniffed Severus, making sure it still was him.

"We have to learn a lot about each other, haven't we?" Severus spoke to her, being surprised how differently his voice sounded, much softer than usual. Well, Moonlight was just a dragon, right? She won't tell anyone that the stern professor had, Merlin forbid, such a thing as an emotions.

Severus knew it was wrong, he should've taught Moonlight independence, personal space and boundaries. But... these big, sad, innocent eyes... Of course he let her in his bed.

"Don't get used to it, okay? One day, you'll overgrow this bed... and this entire room," Severus whispered to Moonlight, yet she was blissfully ignorant, mostly because English was a completely foreign language for her. But the language of love the little chick understood very well. She hugged Severus' arm with her tiny paws, wrapped her petite tail around his wrist, and nestled comfortably by his side. Feeling his warmth, scent, breathe and heartbeat, Moonlight fell asleep quickly and easily, despite the unfamiliar surroundings.

And so did Severus, holding this fluffy miracle close... almost fatherly.

***

In the next few days, Moonlight was slowly but surely healing. At first, she was scared of almost everything, but with Severus' guidance, she learned to trust this big unknown world of Hogwarts.

Severus had to adjust his routine for Moonlight's needs. Scheduled feeding, litter box training, playing a simple games, like making her chase the toy with the Leviossa spell, to spend her youthful energy... An interesting experience.

But the winter break eventually ended, like in a blink of eye. Severus had to return to his teaching duties, and it became a problem... He couldn't leave Moonlight alone for that long, not with her emotional trauma of abandonment from losing her dragon parents. She barely could handle his absence for the bathroom visits, waiting for a few minutes without hysterical, heartbreaking crying.

Severus had no other choice but to take Moonlight with him on the lectures. He let her climb onto his shoulders and wrap her tiny fluffy form around his neck. Together, they stepped outside...

***

"Severus... What's this?" Minerva asked, meeting Severus with his unique companion in the hallway.

"A scarf," Severus said with a straight face. The said 'scarf' softly chirped to greet Minerva, instinctively feeling that she was a friend, not a foe. Severus' friends were Moonlight's friends too.

"Very cute... 'scarf'," Minerva responded, gently scratching Moonlight under the chin. The transfiguration professor decided to not say anything banal, like reminding about the security protocols. Severus knew what he was doing... well, most of the times.

"I can't leave her alone," Severus answered Minerva's silent question. "She's afraid I might go and... not return. Like her parents."

"It won't last forever, Severus. One day she won't fit on your shoulders anymore," Minerva gently tried to be the voice of the reason, careful not to hurt Severus' nor Moonlight's feelings.

"Dragons can't be domesticated. If it was possible, Hagrid would've already exchanged his vehicles for flying on the dragon's back. But their instincts are stronger. One day the nature will call her back to the wild, and she'll forget about me." Severus recited what he had read about the dragons in the encyclopedia, and felt his heart clenching. He didn't want to admit it, but he got attached to Moonlight, and the thought about her forgetting him was oddly depressive. Rationally, Severus knew that Moonlight didn't belong here, in the castle, among the humans. But emotionally... it was unexpectedly hard to accept.

Severus mastered the skill of hiding his emotions... But Moonlight saw him completely transparent, easily breaking through all of his defences. She nuzzled his cheek and cooed softly, detecting his somber mood, trying to soothe him as she could. She didn't like to see her foster father sad, and she wouldn't buy his 'I'm okay' response.

"Clever girl," Minerva gave Moonlight an another scratch behind her tiny horns. Emotional support pet dragon... Maybe, that was exactly what Severus needed. And... had he ever cared for what the ministry said for once?

***

When Severus stepped in the classroom, all the attention was immediately glued to Moonlight on his shoulders. She held him a bit tighter, small but sharp claws digged into the fabric of his mantle. So many these weird bipedal creatures, humans but shorter... Severus, honestly, sometimes felt the same.

"I'm well aware of the school rules and safety protocols, and I'm also aware that the dragons aren't allowed in the classroom," Severus inhaled deeply, preparing for the worst. Probably, on his next lesson, all the students will bring their own pets, following his example. "But, sometimes, we can make an exceptions for emergency situations... Like nursing an orphan chick, yes."

Moonlight listened to Severus carefully, not quite understanding anything, but instinctively feeling that he was talking about her.

"Before Moonlight's cuteness will melt your brains completely, I must warn all of you, that a dragon hatchling, like any other child, is a huge responsibility, despite the relatively small size," Severus spoke, cradling Moonlight. He realized that the students wouldn't be able to focus on the potions, so he didn't even try to continue the lesson as planned. The alchemistry class suddenly turned into the lecture on the responsible parenthood.

"In the nature, dragons never leave their offspring alone," Severus continued. "When one parent goes to the hunt, other one stays to keep the eggs warm, and then to take care of the hatchlings. I, obviously, don't have such a luxury as a partner to share the parental duties with. Moonlight became the center of my life, my routine is rotating around her. No proper night sleep, because I must feed her every few hours. No working in peace, because she doesn't like when I pay my attention to something else than her. No privacy nor personal space for me anymore... And it's just now, when she's sized like an average cat. The real challenge will begin when she'll grow up into a powerful firebreathing beast..."

"Does it hurt?"

"No, just... ughm..." Severus gasped quietly, feeling a cold healing ointment applied on his damaged skin. "Just itching a bit."

Of course, Severus could do it by himself, but this time, he reluctantly allowed you to take care of him. He was sitting on the bed half-naked, letting you to treat his scars, a cozy moment of intimacy and comfort between you and him.

As you finished with the deep bite mark on Severus' throat, your hands slipped down on his shoulders, and his tensed muscles felt stiff under your gentle massage. Severus still was a taut string, nervous and cautious, even despite the months of the calm and peaceful life after the war. He wasn't accustomed to be touched, to be loved and cherished... to be vulnerable. He was still afraid that you may be repulsed by his weakness, by his scars, by his weight, by his... Severus' restless brain generated more and more reasons why his happiness would crush in any second, he shook his head to get rid of these intrusive thoughts. Instead, Severus focused on the current moment - you were here, sitting beside him on the bed, seeing his softened body, caressing his scarred skin...

"Your touch alone is my remedy," Severus murmured quietly, leaning into your hands and closing his eyes like a contented cat.

"May I?.." You asked Severus, pointing at the pale contours of the Dark Mark on his forearm. You knew how sensitive this area was, not even physically but emotionally, so you decided to get his permission first.

Severus tensed up again. His scars weren't a mere skin imperfections, they were telling the story of his life - from the long stripes on his back left by the abusive father's belt, and to the deep bite of Nagini's fangs on his neck... But this particular scar on Severus' forearm was a reminder of his darkest times as a Death Eater.

"Yes..." He nodded reluctantly after a pause.

Severus looked away as you began to apply the healing balm on his forearm. Memories flashbacked in his mind still vividly - the Death Eaters' meetings, the Dark Lord's cruel grin, the utter horror in the victims' eyes... Severus' heart painfully clenched. Some of his wounds layed much, much deeper than those on his skin...

"Severus? Should I stop?" You asked with a genuine concern in your voice, noticing his distress. You paused the procedure to hold Severus' hand, reassuring and comforting him.

"I..." Severus took a moment to gather his chaotic thoughts. "I know that you love me as I am, Y/N, I don't doubt your feelings in the slightest. I know that you don't mind my scars, but... I wish to forget about this period of my life completely..."

"We can cover it with a tattoo, if you want," You gently traced the pale silhouette of the Dark Mark. "I saw your sketches in your potion books, some of them would be an excellent tattoo designs."

"A tattoo, hm... I've never thought that my silly doodles would have an artistic value..." Severus layed down flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling and pondering about your idea. He indeed had a habit to sketch and doodle during the work, yet he never considered it as something serious. Until you mentioned...

"Oh, I have even better idea! A matching tattoos!" You layed down beside Severus, cuddling closer. He softly smiled at your enthusiasm and determination - you didn't say it just to make him feel better, you genuinely wanted to have one of sketches permanently drawn on your skin.

"Then I shall pick the most beautiful design worthy of you, Y/N," Severus answered, already imagining the matching tattoos on yours and his forearms. Back then, he would consider this idea too cheesy, but now it seemed appealing, a combination of the meaningful romantic gesture and the symbolical freedom from his dark past.

While Severus was thinking what design would suit you the best, you took the remaining healing ointment from the jar and spread it on his soft lower belly, tenderly rubbing the balm over his fresh stretch marks.

"You're enjoying it a bit too much," Severus playfully smirked, watching your diligence with the simplest treatment. He didn't complain, though.

"The healing ointment can't be stored since opened, we must use all of it!" You responded with a mock innocence, playing along and making a somewhat rational excuse up. Tactile contact was your love language, and so you expressed your tender feelings with all sorts of caresses, rubs and cuddles... Severus realized how desperately touch-starved he was before meeting you.

But touching, of course, wasn't the only way to express your love. You leaned in to kiss Severus' neck, and then... you involuntarily winced, feeling a bitter taste of the healing herbs in your mouth, it seemed like the ointment wasn't absorbed yet.

"Ow..."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. This balm wasn't meant for the peroral intake, so I didn't think much about the flavor," Severus couldn't help but chuckled at your confused reaction, this little silly moment lightened his mood. "It needs some time to..."