Chapter Two: Dream a little dream of me
Hermione climbed into her glorious king size bed and sighed happily. Bigger than strictly neccessary, she had wasted no time in transfiguring the single bed provided in her chambers into the luxurious king size. Hermione had decided that she deserved the treat if she were going to be staying in the ministry housing project for the year. They could force her in her contract to live in their tiny housing but they couldn't tell her that she didn't require a bed large enough for starfishing, one of her favourite habits.
She snuggled down under the deep burgundy covers and waved her wand to extinguish the candles. She smiled to herself, a little tipsy and thoroughly content. She had had a lovely birthday. She had been a little concerned in the tent of the psychic true, as she had felt her comments about newspapers and waiting for daughters and green eyes hit a little too close to home to be strictly conjecture, but once the woman had turned to Hermione she had quickly relaxed and realised the woman was a fraud. The only men lost to her that she held in high regard were dead men. And unless she was going to invent a miraculous way to bring the dead to life, she was fairly confident the strange woman had been talking rubbish. Smiling to herself, she let her eyes drift closed and was quickly carried away by her slumber.
A man was laughing. It was a beautiful laugh. Deep and throaty and masculine. It was the most delightful noise she'd ever heard. She smiled brightly at the man who had produced the laugh and then put on a mock serious face,
"Well really Severus it wasn't that funny!" She scoffed indignantly.
"Oh really?" He quipped back smirking and extending his arms to her, offering her embrace. She gladly stepped forward into his arms and buried her nose contentedly into the fabric of his robes. He smelled of sandalwood and jasmine, "I do beg to differ. Being asked if you are my daughter is DEFINITELY amusing to me. I'd have been indignant with rage, but I don't truly think I look old enough to be an expectant grandfather, even if you have started turning me prematurely grey." He kissed the top of her head lovingly and moved one of his hands down to rest on her protuding stomach. She dropped her gaze to follow his hand and placed hers on top of his to guide it ever so slightly over to the left. He looked at her quizzically for a moment before his eyes widened in suprise when he felt a swift, sharp kick from within her stomach,
"I think he's saying hello daddy." She said happily, turning to gaze back up at his face, watching him as he stared down at her. She could see how amazed and awed he was.
"That's the first time i've felt it." He whispered happily, before shaking his head and looking at her confused, "What do you mean HE? Have you found out without me?"
"No!" She replied quickly and indignantly, "I just have a hunch is all."
"Well I think your hunch is way off my darling. No son of mine would have such a feminine kick!"
She snorted ungracefully, "Oh trust me Severus, it doesn't feel all that feminine when it's coming from inside your body!"
He grinned down at her sinisterly then, "Well then my dear, would you care to place a wager on it? If the baby is a girl then I win and if the baby is a boy then YOU win."
"And the prize?"
"What would you have me give you Hermione?"
She chewed on her lip thoughtfully for a moment before a wicked grin lit up her face, "If I am right and the baby is a boy then you have to let me name him whatever I like. No questions, no refusals and no strops allowed."
"I am NOT having a child called Harry or Ronald." He warned her, although his face was still light and his tone humorous.
"Not Harry. Not Ronald. No. I was actually thinking of Severus Evan. Severus Jr."
"Evan?"
"Like Lily Evans. Evan. I know you loved her. I know that if it weren't for Lily, for Harry, that I wouldn't have you now. I want to thank her. To show my son that a mothers love is the greatest gift in the world."
Severus sniffed and nodded, "I...I think I like that very much. And if I win" the mischeivous grin was back on his face, "and baby is a girl..."
"What's your price?" She asked curiously.
"More children." He replied cheekily, "I demand the rights to procreate with you as many times as a like. And naturally that involves lots of practising too." He smirked at her and she smirked back,
"Oh I think that can be arranged" she agreed "I hated being an only child. And I do enjoy the practising. In fact, i've always been a bit of a SWOT you know. I might be to start practising immediately."
She stood on her tip toes, closing the gap between their faces and pressed her ips gently to his, his hands moving to her lower back to pull her further into his embrace.
Hermione awoke with a start. She looked around confused, checking that she was still alone in her bed and her burgundy quilt. She frowned to herself,
"What in the world was that?" she mumbled quizzically.
