NINE MONTHS OF DELECTABLE HELL
My response to WIKTT's Surrogacy Mother Challenge. I know it was released years ago, but somehow, I didn't see it until now and just had to give it a go.
Major thanks go to my beta, Southern_Witch_69, who totally rocks.
MONTH ZERO
She was watching his face closely as she sat at the crowded table at Grimmauld Place. She'd been watching him all week and thought she could see beyond the gentle sneer to the well-hidden dejection.
She was the only one who knew; of that she could be certain. His anguished admission was one she knew he regretted. He'd probably even entertained the thought of Obliviating her memory.
His confession had come late at night as she had found him scouring the Black Family library, muttering bitterly to himself. He had snapped at her meek enquiry into what he was looking for.
Here she had bristled. In her increased lack of social activity, following the end of the war, Hermione had found herself spending longer and longer hours sequestered away in this dark library. She knew the resting place of every book on the shelves. Drawing her shoulders back, she had told him as much.
His response hadn't been entirely what she had expected. Oh, the dry cynical delivery had been the same, but the words had not.
"I'm looking for a mother for my child, Miss Granger, but I doubt I'm going to find her in here."
Before she could stop herself, her infamous curiosity had prompted her to ask, "Why do you want a child?"
She had seen it in his eyes, the habits of a brutal lifetime of secrecy battling with the simple human desire to share.
"Simply to have an heir, you interfering woman." His glare had bore down on her.
She admired his ability to still make her feel as though she was standing over a cauldron in a dank dungeon, awaiting his approval. But those years were long past. She'd seen too much to be fazed for too long.
"Well, how do you manage to accomplish that with no mother? I wouldn't have thought you were getting married anytime soon."
"I hire a mother, Miss Granger. And do I need to remind you that I don't need to be married to the woman to produce a baby?" A smirk had spread across his face as a blush had spread across hers.
"But… where…?" She had floundered. It had been beyond anything she had ever expected to have a conversation with him about.
He had seemed to almost pity her ignorance. "They are about. I've been looking for over three years, and I have yet to find someone satisfactory. I won't have just any witch."
With those final words, he had stormed from the room.
Throughout the following week, she had found herself hyperaware of his presence. If he arrived at the house, handing on reports to Harry or attending the Order's 'Search and Capture' meetings, she had found a reason to be present. She'd observed his every word, facial expression and body movement.
So this was how she found herself staring across the kitchen of Grimmauld Place to the man standing as far in the shadows as possible. He was currently focusing intently on the section of wall he stood against. She had noticed, over the week, that he rarely looked at people in the eye, but when he did, he fixed his full attention on them. That may be why most people found reason to swiftly end their conversations with him. Tonight he seemed preoccupied, as if he wasn't purposely distancing himself, rather that he had much on his mind.
The meeting concluded, and she watched him skulk out, no one else even noticing his exit. She followed. She didn't know why; she had no plan, just her usual desire to know everything.
As she passed the library, a low voice issued from the threshold.
"It's a good thing you were never a spy. You are about as inconspicuous as an Erumpent in mating season."
She whipped around on her heel and came to face the man in the doorway.
He continued to speak. "You've been watching me all week, Miss Granger, and I do not appreciate the scrutiny."
Her jaw dropped open ever so slightly. She knew she had been more subtle than, say for example, Ron, but she should have known she hadn't been subtle enough for the Potions master. She cursed her own self-confidence. In true Gryffindor fashion, she plowed forwards regardless.
"I was concerned, Professor, after what you told me last week."
A barely discernable twitch of his forehead was the only indication she had that he had been caught off guard by her comment. He stared at her for a full minute before moving past her and heading for the front door.
He looked back to where she stood, the familiar sneer across his face. "No need to concern yourself. There will be someone. And don't call me 'Professor.' I'm no longer anyone's professor."
Hermione managed to keep herself occupied the following week. She had her work, and at nights she returned home to Grimmauld Place. On Saturday she had gone to visit her parents. It had been a normal week.
Except her mind had been racing, her focus in tatters and her drive… wavering. The professor's predicament had started a chain reaction of thought, and now it wouldn't stop.
She found herself wondering about his life. Was he happy? Did he even seek happiness? She had a feeling neither were true and felt true sadness for the man, who didn't seem to live but merely exist. She wondered whether he had ever hoped for a family, and given up, or whether he hadn't even hoped to begin with. Would having an heir make him happy? Would it soften him? Would it give him a reason to smile or trust?
She wanted these things for the man, difficult and cold as he could be. She could feel the debt she owed him thrumming in her veins. She knew everyone in the Order felt the same, the reason Severus Snape was welcomed and respected, whenever he appeared, regardless of his lack of manners.
He deserved these things, and she arrived at a resolution: she was going to make it happen.
The moment she thought this, she recoiled. She couldn't. Where could that thought have even come from? From the dormant magic of her life debt? From her desire to see the dark warrior have something in his life to love? From her own loneliness?
Two days later, Hermione was still waging a war with her errant thoughts. She had been back and forth on the idea in her mind, but once an idea had taken seed in Hermione Granger's mind, she found it very hard to let go.
It was at that fateful moment that Severus Snape, once again, entered the library. He moved instantly to the bookcase, entirely ignoring her presence. She watched him scour the bookcases, pulling the leather-covered volumes out before stuffing them back. She flinched every time she heard a page crumple or a cover scrape.
"Engarts Book of Magical Law, Miss Granger."
She was jolted by the sound of his voice, but answered swiftly. "Third shelf, tenth book from the left."
He recovered the book swiftly and turned to once again storm out of the room when she spoke softly, saying, "I'll do it."
He impatiently turned to glance at her, but she wasn't paying too much attention. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, and her brain had frozen. It seemed she, once again, had no plan; hell, she couldn't even remember making the definite decision!
His voice cut through her shock. "You'll do what, exactly?"
She held her breath. For as yet unclear reasons, a sneaky part of her mind must have come to this decision a week ago and was now screaming for her to ask him. The rational side of her mind knew that several things could happen, should she continue. The most likely was that he would refuse her and probably sneer down his nose at her. The least likely was that he would accept, and she didn't even know what that entailed.
At that moment she saw the twitch on his forehead again. In the time she had spent watching him, she had seen this small indicator again and again, whenever he was confused, shocked or surprised. It made him look, ever so slightly, more vulnerable. She had dubbed it his 'human expression', and it was this that swayed her judgment now.
"I'll be the mother of your child, if you'll accept."
The twitch became more pronounced. She must have shocked him immensely. He was frozen at his post by the door, staring intently into her eyes with as dazed an expression as he would ever show across his face. He stayed like that for a long time, breathing lightly, though slightly unevenly.
But soon his eyes began to narrow, and the look became calculating. He began to stalk slowly towards her, his eyes still focused on her face until he commanded, "Stand."
She stood. She was too stunned with the play of events not to.
He began to circle her. Looking her up and down. His eyes raked every inch of her body, and she barely repressed a shudder. She felt self-conscious, her heart thudding at the methodical assessment of her person. She didn't dare watch him, cursing herself for listening to what she had now decided was the delusional part of her mind.
He stood behind her now. The back of her neck prickled, and she could just make out his slow purposeful breaths.
"Why?"
It wasn't the question that made the breath catch in the back of her throat, but the rasping, desperate voice of the man. She didn't dare turn around to look at him to witness him in a heightened emotional state she didn't think she was yet prepared to see.
Why?! How could she articulate the barrage of questions and sympathy, which had swirled around her head all week? How could she make him believe in her sincere belief that he deserved it? She had a feeling that whatever she said would be rejected, just as she had predicted. As long as she could let him know that this wasn't a joke, meant to wound, then she would be able to leave the library with her dignity intact.
"Because, I want you to have it. You deserve your heir. I have the ability to give that to you." She felt self-righteous. She felt proud. She felt a sudden conviction for what she was doing.
"Have you even thought this through? Have you truly considered what you are offering to give? You may no longer be a girl, but you are treating this in the same gung-ho manner with which you gallivanted through your years at Hogwarts." He was still standing behind her, breathing more heavily now.
She could feel his breath tickle the hairs on her neck. Her affirming feelings dived. Feeling mounting humiliation, followed by a bubble of anger, she whipped around to face him. The colour in her cheeks was high, and there was a sheen to her burning eyes. He was closer than she had thought he was, and she faced a black wall of his chest before she raised her gaze to meet his.
"I am offering to carry your child. It is not an offer I make lightly. Take it, or leave it."
They stared at each other, each weighing up the other, evaluating motives and the benefits of such an endeavor. Could they do this? Could they create this together?
"I'll draw up a contract. I'll have it for you to sign in a couple of days." She nodded at his words, devoid of the strength to do more. He opened his mouth, as if to say more, but thought better of it and strode to the door without looking back.
Hermione sat down abruptly on the nearest chair. Her vision blurred, and her jaw sagged down at the magnitude of what she had agreed to. She took a deep, steadying breath and took stock of her situation. Even though she was shaken by the man, she discovered she felt all the more convinced she had made the right decision. She had never seen him so emotionally raw. He was more desperate for this than she had realized. The pride she had felt earlier returned, and she felt a small smile tug at the corner of her mouth. Life was about to get much shaken up, and she was looking forward to the upheaval.
Ever the practical bookworm, she walked to the end of the fifth shelf and picked up the book on pregnancy she knew was there.
Severus returned, as he had said he would, after two seemingly never-ending days. Hermione had read every relevant book in the library and felt somewhat more prepared to meet him.
She couldn't deny the butterflies that fluttered around her stomach as she welcomed him into the library or, as she had thought of it over the intervening days, the negotiation room.
He was very business-like, handing her a copy of his contract. As she began to read it, she became highly unsettled. There were some clauses that made sense, some that seemed unreasonable, and some that were just plain disturbing.
"Why do I need to live with you? I have a home here where you're quite able to visit. Surely that's enough access."
"This is my heir we are talking about. I want to be there to aid you should you need help. I wish to watch the process day-to-day. I merely wish to provide you with the best care, so you need not worry."
It sounded to her ears as if he had memorized these answers in preparation of the meeting. It made her pause on her defense and actually think about what he was saying. She liked the idea of being cared for on this journey. The only thing she didn't want was to lose her freedom.
"Am I still allowed to go to work?" She leaned forwards with her fingers crossed behind her back. This was a very important question for her. Whilst, in time, her work had become less all-consuming, she still couldn't be without it.
"Of course. The work you do is important. I wouldn't stop you from doing it, but I would ask you to limit yourself from any strenuous activity that you may be asked to do." He searched her face, seeming willing to appease her.
A hint of a smirk graced her lips as she pictured the most strenuous tasks involved in her work: lifting a large book, maybe.
"I don't think that'll be a problem." She continued to read down the contract, her lips pursing every minute or so as she read clause after clause. Snape was really overprotective of this child, and the small stipulations, such as promising to let him know if she felt any discomfort, or to abide no caffeine throughout the pregnancy, whilst logical, felt stifling when written on paper. But all of them made sense, so she let them go. No need to shake the hornet's nest.
It wasn't until she reached the last clause that she felt her heart still and her hands go damp. She sensed him tense opposite her in anticipation of this fight. How dare he?! Of all the ungrateful…!
She slowly drew her eyes up to his, waiting for him to say something, to tell her why he had included such a heartless vow.
When he simply looked back at her, she snapped at him, "Do you want to explain this?"
He drew a deep breath, spreading his pale hands on the table between them. He took a moment to think before speaking in a low voice.
"I don't want you to grow so attached to the baby that you are unable to let him or her go. I don't want to reach the end of nine months to find that you have changed your mind, and I won't have an heir after all." His voice started to grow in volume, his fingers gripping the desk. "I have waited too long to have a child that I only see at holidays. I want a child that knows my influence, who has memories of me when they are grown. A child I can teach to know respect for wizarding ways and will make me proud." He spat the last word at her shell-shocked face. His nostrils flared as his black eyes bore through her soul and chipped away at her conscience.
She couldn't deny him. A man this desperate was willing to do anything, and the only thing he wanted was to raise his child. The clause stated that no-one, not even the child, would have knowledge that she was its mother. She would have no rights to see him or influence his childhood and the person he was to be. The idea was barbaric, but as she looked into the eyes of the undone man before her, the man to whom she owed a life debt, she couldn't say no.
She reached for the quill, his gaze immediately tracking its progress towards the document. A glimmer of hope lit within the black as the quill hovered above the parchment. She silently signed her name, blew the ink dry and sanded it before painstakingly folding it and sliding it across the table to him.
Hermione watched as he reached for the contract, then held it reverently as he rose from the table. His voice was barely louder than a whisper.
"Thank you, Miss Granger. Will you be ready to travel to my home in three days' time?"
She bowed her head faintly in assent, adding only, "I think you can call me Hermione now."