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Chapter 127*

After what feels like an eternity, you finally return home. The cabin in the French mountainside is quiet, a serene contrast to the chaos and turmoil of the day's events. The walls are filled with the warmth of home, the soft flicker of the fireplace casting a gentle glow across the room. 

The air is tinged with the comforting scent of fresh linens and the faint, sweet smell of your children's nursery. It's a sanctuary, a place where you can finally let down your guard.

But even as you cross the threshold, the exhaustion that has been clawing at you all day crashes over you like a wave. Your mind is numb, struggling to process everything that has happened—the mission to Azkaban, the rescue of Lucius, the weight of what you've confessed to him. It all feels distant, like something that happened to someone else, not to you.

Severus walks beside you, his expression as weary as yours, though he remains steadfast, his presence a constant support. He doesn't need to say anything; the silence between you speaks volumes. You're both utterly drained, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and the only thing either of you wants now is the comfort of each other and the peace of your home.

As you enter the nursery, the soft cries of Esmond and Iris greet you, a sound that tugs at your heart even in your exhaustion. They're a little fussy, having only had bottles all day, and they're eager for the comfort that only you can provide. The sight of them, so small and perfect, brings a swell of love that momentarily pushes aside the fatigue weighing on you.

"I'll take care of them," you murmur, your voice hoarse from the day's strain. But before you can even think about moving, Severus is already ahead of you.

"Let me help," he says gently, his voice softer than usual, a rare tenderness that he reserves only for you and the twins. He lifts both babies from their cribs with the care and precision of a man who has grown accustomed to handling their fragile forms. With a smooth, practiced motion, he places them on you, positioning them so that they can nurse at the same time.

You settle into the rocking chair, adjusting yourself so that the twins can latch on. The moment their tiny mouths begin to nurse, a sense of relief washes over you. 

Their little hands grasp at you, their eyes closing as they feed, and for a few precious minutes, the world outside the nursery fades away. It's just you, your babies, and the steady rhythm of their suckling. The simplicity of it is grounding, anchoring you in the present and allowing you to push everything else aside.

Severus stays close, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your skin in a soothing gesture. He watches you with an expression that's a mix of admiration and concern, his dark eyes filled with a love that he rarely lets anyone see. You can feel his exhaustion too, but he pushes it aside for you, for this moment.

When the twins are finally sated, their little bodies relaxed and content, Severus carefully takes them from you one at a time, his movements as gentle as ever. He places them back in their cribs, each one bundled up in their soft blankets, and watches for a moment as they drift off to sleep, their tiny chests rising and falling with each breath.

You don't have the strength to move on your own anymore. The day's events have taken everything out of you, and the sheer mental and emotional toll leaves you feeling like a shell of yourself. Without a word, Severus turns back to you, his expression unreadable but filled with a quiet determination.

He lifts you from the chair as if you weigh nothing, carrying you to the bed with a tenderness that almost brings tears to your eyes. You don't protest; you simply rest your head against his shoulder, letting him take care of you, something you've come to realize you need just as much as he does.