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Severus Snape scowled as he stepped into his room, rubbing at his neck muscles.
Those two were going to be the death of him.
"Give me a class of fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins any day," he muttered under his breath as he unbuttoned his shirt. Slipping into bed, he turned on his side and spooned at his bed partner's back.
"Girls asleep?" asked his wife tiredly.
"Finally," growled Snape was he allowed his muscles to relax, wrapping his arms around her familiar form. "I never thought bedtime could be such a drawn out process."
Hermione stifled a laugh.
"And they're only three and four years of age!" he added exasperatedly, but without his usual alacrity. "With negotiation skills to rival any in the Wizengamot."
Hermione shifted in his grip. "Wait until they're teenagers."
He froze. "Not funny wife."
Hermione slipped her hand over his where it rested on her very swollen abdomen. "Probably lucky this one is a boy then?" she said amused.
She was surprised when his stiffness remained and he didn't respond.
Struggling to move, such a simple action cumbersome these days, she managed to prop herself upright on the pillows. Looking at where her husband still hadn't moved, his hand still on her belly, she searched his face in the pale moonlight.
Tilting his chin up, she saw an expression she didn't recognise. "Are you... scared?" she ventured.
He immediately turned his face away from her, old instincts kicking in hard. She might have been offended, but he took a deep breath not long after and returned his gaze to hers.
"I am afraid."
She knew how much it cost him to say that and didn't push him, running her hands through his hair as she waited for him to speak. He would do it in his own time.
His eyes dropped to where their third child – and first son – grew. He tugged up her oversized nightshirt before slipping his warm hand onto the tight skin that encased his child.
Baby seemed to recognise their father and gave a kick. As his thumb brushed her swollen abdomen, Severus finally looked at Hermione.
"I don't know how to be a father to a son," he said softly.
"Oh Sev," said Hermione, hormones kicking in, her heart tightening as her hand slipped to his cheek.
"Bloody Gryffindor emotions," her husband muttered without malice as he pulled himself upright to sit beside her.
She sniffled as she cupped both cheeks and forced him to look her in the eye. "Severus Snape," she said seriously. "You're going to be a remarkable father – just like you are with Helena and Lisbette."
Tears ran down her cheeks but she ignored them. "Our son will grow up loved, without fear and know that his parents would do anything for him."
Severus scowled as his wife got right to the core of his fears. "You know me too well," he muttered, even as he gently reached out to brush her tears away.
She didn't answer, instead flashing him a watery grin. "And at least they'll be no Barbie dolls this time."
"Thank Merlin for small mercies," the man muttered before bracing an arm over his wife's form, leaning down to kiss her. Hermione had no objection, slipping her hands into his hair to bring him closer to her.
She gasped in his mouth when she felt his hand slip under her shirt and brush the underside of her sensitive breasts. Pulling back, she moaned when his talented fingers flicked across her permanently hardened nipple.
"Severus," she said softly as her hand gripped his neck muscles.
"Yes?" her husband replied wryly, halting his administrations.
"Don't stop," she protested, unconsciously thrusting her body out to him.
"Whatever you say madam wife," he demurred as his lips covered hers once again.
His talented fingers were ghosting over her pregnant belly and preparing to slip into her underwear when a cry shattered the night.
"Mummy! Daddy!"
Hearing the voice of his youngest daughter, Severus groaned as he eased back from his delectable wife. "Why did we have children again?"
Hermione grinned as she watched her husband slip from the bed and leave the room. Snuggling into the pillows, she changed her mind and turned onto her side, reaching for her husband's pillow to prop under her bare belly.
Hearing his voice faintly in the distance, she gripped his pillow a little tighter. There was one last thing on her mind before she unwittingly slipped into slumber.
Who would have guessed that an encounter at a Potions conference five years ago would have led to this?
Finito.