Severus got out of bed, careful not to wake the sleeping Lupin, and made his way into the bathroom.

In front of the full-length mirror, he took off his nightshirt and scowled at his protruding belly.

In the middle of the night, the damn little parasite had reached the next stage of its development. It was leaching his magic, taking what it wanted straight out of Severus' bloodstream.

Severus took out his wand and cast a few simple levitating charms, making the soap dish and the water glass rise to the ceiling.

The little devil was hungry. Severus felt the drain immediately, or rather, the odd pulling sensation, like a very weak portkey, deep inside himself.

At least it wasn't a squib, then. With Lupin's doubtful pedigree added to his own, there had been that possibility.

Magical children, even before birth, could not help but be drawn to sources of magic. Even those carried by Muggles exhibited changes in behavior when the parent who carried them inadvertently came into contact with a magical object. It was only natural that a child surrounded by magic would take advantage of it.

Severus' breath caught as a hard kick caught him off guard. His scowl deepened.

At this rate, Pomfrey would have him on bed rest in no time.

"Severus? Everything all right?"

Damn.

"Yes," he said, turning on the water. "Everything is fine."

He could tell Lupin hadn't moved away from the door. Waiting to pounce the second Severus came out, no doubt. Between Lupin and the baby, it was amazing he was still sane.

He dressed, taking his time, before opening the door.

"Minerva invited us to breakfast," Lupin said immediately.

Severus nodded. He had been trying to avoid accepting the Headmistress' invitation all that week, but he'd known he couldn't avoid it forever. "Fine."

Lupin peered closer at him, making Severus feel like a bug under a magnifying lens. "Are you feeling all right? You look tired."

Severus shot him a withering glare and pushed past him. "The baby kicked all night."

Lupin had the audacity to look sympathetic. "I'm sorry. Maybe we should ask to reschedule --"

"No. Best get it over with now."

He could feel Lupin's eyes on him, studying him.

The last thing he needed was for Lupin to find out the baby had made the connection -- at least a month early -- and demand he see Pomfrey at once.

"All right," Lupin said finally. "If you're sure you feel up to it."

Severus stiffened under another kick to the ribs. "Perfectly."

"What wrong with Snape?"

Remus looked up from the paper, frowning. "What do you mean?"

Sirius shrugged. "Saw him in the staffroom just now. Asleep." He paused, then shrugged again. "I think."

Flinging the paper aside, Remus was off, completely deaf to Sirius' calls after him.

Snape was asleep. Still panting from his run, Remus bent over him, studying his steady breathing.

Maybe he should have asked Minerva to reschedule, he thought guiltily. He'd seen Snape wasn't feeling well that morning.

Not knowing what else to do, he sat down in the chair next to Snape.

"Are you going to just sit there now?"

Remus looked up, narrowing his eyes at Sirius. "That wasn't amusing, Sirius. Don't ever do that to me again."

"Sorry," Sirius said, not looking particularly repentant. He sat down on the overstuffed couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "So. Just going to sit here and watch him?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. That's exactly what I'm going to do."

Sirius made a disgusted face.

"What?" Remus asked suspiciously. "Let me guess. You can think of a dozen things you think I should rather do."

"More like a hundred," Sirius said, smirking. "Though he does look somewhat amusing with his mouth hanging open like that."

Remus glared at him.

"Cut the death glare, Moony," Sirius said, completely unperturbed. "I know the git's rubbing off on you, but you just aren't very scary."

Remus sniffed in annoyance and picked up a magazine. Sometimes ignoring Sirius was the best course of action. "Don't you have anything else to do?"

"Nope," Sirius said, stretching and leaning back against the couch. "Harry's off with the Weasleys for the rest of the week."

"Don't you have a lesson plan to write?"

Sirius snorted. "Oh, come on. I have a whole week before classes start, and it's not like anyone learns anything the first few weeks."

Remus said nothing. Of course Sirius would leave something as important as a lesson plan to the very last minute. When Remus was a teacher, he --

Well, that wasn't a very good subject for thought, was it? Remus shook his head to chase away the memories. He wasn't a Hogwarts professor anymore, and never would be again.

"Something wrong?"

Remus shook his head again. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"About the baby?"

Remus looked up. "What?"

"That's all you ever think about these days."

"Actually," Remus said slowly, "I was thinking about how little I'm contributing."

Sirius' eyebrows shot up. "What are you going on about?"

Remus only shook his head.

"Come on. Tell me."

"It's just that..."

Sirius leaned forward expectantly.

"I don't work. I don't make any money at all. I have no savings..."

"So what?"

"Don't you see? I moved into his rooms. I'm making him carry my baby. What am I doing for him?"

"Hey, he's the one who wanted you. He's got what he wanted."

"You know that's not what I meant. He's doing all the work. I'm useless. If he'd just let me help..."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "What work? Sleeping all day? You call that work?"

Remus glared at him and returned to his magazine.

"Fine, don't listen to me," Sirius said. "But if you ask me, you're putting up with more than you should."

Severus opened one eye a crack and took a quick look around.

Lupin was still in the chair next to him, half-hidden behind a magazine. Black was gone.

He pulled himself up, clearing his throat. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Lupin startled, almost dropping the magazine. He cleared his throat nervously. "I thought you could use some rest."

Severus scowled at him. "In the staffroom in the middle of the day?"

Lupin shrugged, looking at a loss.

Severus stood up, gathering the book he had been reading before the sudden need for sleep overtook him. "Never mind. The day is not wholly lost."

Lupin trailed after him out of the staffroom. "Was there something you wanted to do today, Severus?"

"I thought you wanted to work on the nursery. If you've changed your mind, I can certainly find other things to occupy my time."

Behind him, Lupin's footsteps halted. "I-I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with that."

Severus sniffed derisively, not pausing to wait for Lupin to catch up with him. "I'm not about to leave it up to you. Just now I had the most hideous vision of red walls and Gryffindor banners."

"But... you said..."

"I changed my mind," Severus said, turning to scowl at him. "Is there a problem?"

"No. No, of course not. I'm glad you want to be involved."

Sniffing derisively once more for good measure, Severus continued down the dungeon staircase, ignoring Lupin.

What a waste of a perfectly good afternoon. He could have spent it going one final time over the instructions he had prepared for the temporary Potions instructor, who was due to arrive within days. Instead, he was going to watch Lupin hang curtains and lay rugs.

But he couldn't let Lupin continue complaining to Black, could he? What did Lupin think he was doing, talking about their relationship behind his back?

Severus jerked open the door to his quarters, and stalked into the bedroom, then into the still barren nursery. "Well? What plans have you made?" he demanded, fixing Lupin with an impatient look.

"I... er... haven't made any plans yet," Lupin said, scratching his head. "I haven't had time. Is there something you want to see done?"

Severus turned to survey the room more closely.

"Get rid of those portraits," he said finally, pointing at two large gilded frames, whose occupants seemed to have gone for the moment.

Obediently, Lupin removed the portraits, leaving them leaning against one wall.

"The drapes are hideous."

Lupin took them down carefully, catching the cloud of dust with a flick of his wand. Another flick, and the drapes vanished altogether.

"The whole room will need to be scrubbed from floor to ceiling. The walls could use a fresh coat of paint."

Lupin nodded. "Yes. Do you happen to know where Filch keeps the paint?"

Severus stared at him in disgust. "Don't be ridiculous. This is work for house-elves. We can't do anything more today."

"We can pick out the colors."

"Not red."

"Not green."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Did I suggest green?"

Lupin held up his hands defensively. "I didn't say you did. Perhaps a neutral shade of off-white? Or a nice light blue?"

"Off-white," Severus said flatly, turning to leave. "Fine."

Lupin trotted after him. "I'll arrange it. Would you like to choose furniture? And a rug?"

Severus halted in the doorway, forcing down his rising temper. "I believe there is a suitable shop in Hogsmeade. But it's too late to go today."

"Of course. Tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Tomorrow," Severus said reluctantly. Another day sacrificed.

Lupin seemed satisfied enough. Retiring to his study, Severus looked up occasionally to see him immersed in catalogues and magazines, which lay spread over the coffee table.

Lupin had nothing to complain about. What a ridiculous mood the man had got himself into!

Severus frowned, pushing aside his inkwell and quill and staring gloomily at his hands. Somehow, he had to make it clear to Lupin that he was not interested in sharing the care of the infant he currently carried. As soon as it was out, it would become Lupin's problem, and he had no intention of bothering about it again.

He had thought Lupin would be only too glad to have the thing to himself. He was the one who had wanted it, after all.

Now, given Lupin's behavior throughout the pregnancy and especially over the previous few days, he wasn't so certain.

He only hoped Lupin didn't harbor some mad expectation of caring for it together.

Remus stood in the doorway, out of the way, and watched the house-elves at work.

Less than two hours, and the room had been cleaned and painted. Now two house-elves were polishing the wood floor, bringing some life and shine back into the faded boards.

Looking at the empty room in front of him, he could almost imagine the way it would look once it was finished.

The cradle, of course, would be at the center, away from the fireplace and possible drafts coming from the door. There would be a soft rug on the floor, and a couch against the far wall, in case either he or Snape needed to spend the night by the baby's side. A rocking chair by the fireplace, and some colorful pictures...

"I see the work is coming along."

Remus startled out of his reverie. "Yes. Do you like the color?"

"It's satisfactory."

Remus couldn't help noticing that Snape wasn't even looking at the room.

"Are you coming to bed?" Snape asked. "If you want to leave early tomorrow, I suggest we turn in."

Remus nodded. This wasn't the time or the place to question Snape's behavior. "Yes."

Minutes later, settled comfortably against the pillows, he took a closer look at Snape.

Snape was frowning over a small stack of papers, mindless of Remus' attention. One hand rested lightly over the curve of his abdomen.

Remus smiled, shaking his head lightly.

What was wrong with him? Why did he keep doubting Snape's intentions? Hadn't everyone he'd confided in -- including Sirius, who certainly had no reason to take Snape's side -- told him he was worrying too much?

Of course Snape loved and wanted their baby. It was just his way to be distant and unemotional. Remus had known that at the onset of their relationship, and it was illogical to expect Snape to change. Didn't Minerva warn him that many relationships floundered for that very reason? One shouldn't expect one's partner to change. After all, hadn't he come to love Snape just the way he was, sneers and scowls and all?

Pushing aside his doubts, Remus leaned over to kiss Snape lightly. "Good night, Severus."

Snape barely looked up. "I've set the alarm for seven. Good night."

Remus couldn't keep back another small sigh. He reminded himself that Snape had always focused on the practical aspects of things.

Having reassured himself for the moment, he settled down and shut his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of Snape's breathing and the occasional rustling of parchment.

"This one, then," Remus said, pulling a striped cushion off the shelf. "It matches the curtains."

"It's garish."

"I like it."

Snape gave him a particularly withering look. "I thought you had more taste."

"We need something to brighten up the room. Everything we've chosen so far is much too dark."

Rolling his eyes, Snape took the cushion from him and shoved it into the hands of a waiting clerk. "Fine. I'm tired of arguing with you."

Pursing his lips, Remus followed him down the isle.

Arguing. Is that what Snape called it?

True enough, they couldn't agree on anything. Not the color of the curtains, not the pattern on the rug... not even whether the rocking chair should be oak or cherry wood.

But that was to be expected. Of course they had different tastes. So did Remus and Sirius, but they always managed to find middle ground. Sirius had appreciated Remus' help in decorating his house, even though Remus would never live there now.

Snape wanted things done his way, and his way only.

Why had Remus ever thought this would help them bond over the impending birth of their child? He must have been out of his head.

"I like the blue one," he said, seeing Snape pick up a beige and white checkered quilt.

"This will match the walls," Snape said, adding the quilt to their purchases. "And the baby may be female. Have you considered that?"

"She might like blue," Remus muttered, trailing after Snape, who had not waited for an answer.

"Just for a moment. Come on. What harm could it do? He'll never even know I was here."

Remus hesitated. How many times had Snape told him he didn't want Sirius in their quarters?

"He's busy turning that poor Churchill fellow into even more of a nervous wreck than he was to begin with. Trust me, he won't be back for a while. I want to see the room."

Remus relented. He did want Sirius to see the nursery, and it was Remus, after all, who had talked of nothing else for days. Besides, if Snape had cornered the new temporary Potions professor, it could he hours before he returned. "All right. But just for a few minutes. You know he'll be livid if he finds out I let you in."

"You worry too much."

Remus stood back, letting Sirius in, then led him to the bedroom. "It's through there."

Sirius stopped just inside the doorway. "Not green. I'm shocked."

Remus pushed him gently farther into the room. "See the cradle? It's been in the McGonagall family for seven generations."

"Impressive."

Remus waited while Sirius walked slowly around the room, sometimes reaching out to touch items that interested him. Finally, Sirius made the full circle. "So? What do you think?"

Sirius opened his mouth, but seemed to suddenly change his mind.

"What?" Remus demanded. "What were you going to say?"

"Hey!" Sirius held up his hands defensively. "I like it. I do." He paused, looking at Remus wearily. "Did you choose any of it?"

"Of course I did. I chose --" Remus wheeled around and pointed at the curtains and cushions -- "those! And the couch! And that pitcher I saved from my own house!"

"All right, all right! I just thought it didn't look to your taste, that's all."

Remus glared at him. Sirius might be correct in his guess that most of the items in the room had been chosen by Snape, but he had no right to imply that Remus had let Snape walk all over him. Just because Remus was quicker to compromise...

"I'm sorry, all right?" Sirius said, shrugging. "It's a nice room."

Remus let out a slow breath. "Yes, well..."

There was an awkward silence.

"I should probably go," Sirius said finally. "Churchill's probably cracked by now, and you know Snape loses interest once they've turned into a gibbering mess."

Remus smiled weakly. "He does look like he might be prone to that. Go, then. I'll see you at dinner tonight."

"It's a fine room, Remus," Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Really."

Remus walked with him to the door, and stuck his head out to see that the hallway was empty. "All clear. Go on."

He watched until Sirius had made it safely as far as the staircase, then shut the door and sank into a chair by the fireplace.

Sirius didn't understand.

He did like the room, even if the majority of the items in it had been chosen by Snape. What did it matter who chose a rug or a chair? They were just things. Not important.

What worried him more was how hard compromise came.

Remus was used to giving others their way. He didn't like confrontation and petty bickering. If Snape thought an oak chair was better than a cherry one, was that really worth fighting over?

But those were just things. Would Remus be pushed aside the same way when it came to caring for their child?

The baby was too important to Remus for him to just stand back, like he had done much of the time in the shops. Would they constantly butt heads as a result, bickering over every decision and every detail?

He couldn't help recalling how James and Lily went about readying their home for Harry's arrival. So happy. So eager. Never a fight about anything.

They had parented that way, too, as far as he could remember. Always considerate of each other. Accepting the differences and sharing the responsibilities.

Remus and Snape couldn't even agree on whether the bloody rug should be square or oval. How could he hope they would agree on more important matters?

Suddenly, he shook his head firmly.

This wasn't the way to think. Especially not behind Snape's back. If he had concerns, he would voice them.

The lock clicked, alerting him to Snape's arrival. He got to his feet, looking quickly around to make sure there was no evidence that Sirius had been there.

Snape stalked in, carrying a pile of papers and books.

Remus rushed to him. "You shouldn't be carrying all that!"

Fixing him with a nasty look, Snape veered away, avoiding his grasp, and headed for the study.

Undeterred, Remus followed. "What is all that?"

Depositing his load on the desk, Snape turned around and leaned against the edge. "You would not believe that man's lesson plans. What was McGonagall thinking when she hired him?"

"At least give him a chance."

Snape's scowl deepened.

Remus sighed. If Snape was determined to make things harder on himself, nothing was going to change his mind. Remus had suspected all along that getting Snape to take medical leave was not going to be a wholly successful venture. "All right. Keep an eye on him. But at least promise me you will not attempt to brew potions."

The look Snape gave him was murderous.

"Promise me," Remus repeated firmly. This was one thing he would not back down on. The nurse had made it clear the last months of pregnancy were the most crucial.

After a long, tense moment, Snape nodded.

Severus woke up to find Lupin's head resting on his stomach.

Almost automatically, his hand reached out and his fingers tangled in Lupin's hair.

"Mmm. You're awake?"

Severus snatched his hand back. "I am. What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you to wake up so we can have our row."

"What?"

Lupin raised his head and turned to look at him. "Why in bloody hell didn't you tell me the baby was draining your magic?"

They had been together long enough for Severus to recognize that tone. Lupin wasn't going to be dismissed with a few scowls and sneers this time.

"There was no reason to tell you. The connection is weak. It doesn't interfere with --"

"Like hell! I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling it pull at me. If it could do that to me, straight across the bed, I can only imagine what it must be doing to you!"

"It's doing nothing to me," Severus said as calmly as he could manage. "There is no evidence that such a connection is in any way detrimental, aside from sapping some of my energy. A short nap during the day --"

"But you haven't been resting at all! You've taken on more work than we agreed you could, you haven't seen Poppy in a week, and you've been staying up with that blasted book -- I knew I should have put my foot down about that!"

Severus wriggled out from under Lupin's arms, which had thus far kept him pinned to the bed. "I saw no reason to rest when I wasn't tired. Now, let me up."

"No. You're not going anywhere."

Pulling himself into a sitting position, Severus leaned against the headboard and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're being unreasonable."

"You gave me your word you would tell me if anything like this happened! Did you think I wouldn't want to know when you've entered the last stage of pregnancy?"

"It is hardly the last stage. The baby is not due for months."

Lupin narrowed his eyes. "I assume you haven't told Poppy, either?"

Severus shook his head.

"You're going to tell her now," Lupin said. "Get dressed."

As much as Severus grumbled, several minutes later he was sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, watching Pomfrey fuss over a tray of instruments.

"This is completely unnecessary."

Lupin glared at him. Pomfrey clucked like a hen and shook her head.

"You are not putting me on bed rest," Severus continued when he had received no reply. "There is nothing wrong with me."

More clucking. And now the nurse was waving her wand over him, holding a large crystal in her other hand. Severus didn't like the looks of it.

"I will not be treated like a first-year who fell off his broom. I have no intention --"

"Be quiet and let her do her job."

Severus stared at him. Sometimes he forgot Lupin had it in him to take charge of a situation.

Pomfrey finished her examination and proceeded to frown in a most disconcerting way.

"Well?" Severus demanded impatiently. "What is it?"

"I found evidence of considerable strain on almost all of your systems. The rate of deterioration is quite rapid, given the fact that I last examined you only eight days ago."

Lupin was glaring at him again.

Severus remained silent.

"I'm afraid," Pomfrey continued, "that you will have to confine yourself to your quarters, if not bed, Severus."

"Impossible."

"I must insist," Pomfrey said. "Do not forget I have the power to order you on bed rest. The documents you signed, putting yourself and your unborn child under my care, give me that right. Please don't make me have to enforce our agreement."

"I believe you are doing just that."

Pomfrey nodded slowly. "Please don't make this any harder on any of us. In a few weeks all of this will be over and you will be able to return to your regular duties."

"A few weeks," Severus grumbled. "Some of us need to brush up on our addition. It is quite more than 'a few weeks' until my due date."

"The time will pass quicker than you believe," Pomfrey said, patting him on the shoulder. "You should try to enjoy yourself. Perhaps take up a new hobby. Once the baby comes, you will find no energy and even less time for your interests."

Severus bit back a scathing retort. Pomfrey had no idea what she was talking about. It was Lupin, not him, who would have no time and no energy. Severus would have just as much time for his interests as he had before. He had no intention of wasting any of it on a useless infant.

"Now," Pomfrey said in her most irritating, falsely cheerful voice, "will you let Remus take you back?"

At once, Lupin appeared at his side, trying to help him off the bed.

Severus jerked his elbow out of Lupin's grasp. "Fine. But I'm walking there without anyone's assistance."

Defeat was not easy to admit, but what could he do? He knew from personal experience that the nurse had a vindictive streak in her. Ignore her recommendations, and you were likely to end up strapped to a hospital bed until she deemed you fit to be released.

"I suppose you got what you wanted," he said to Lupin as soon as the hospital doors shut behind them.

"It's not my fault you ignored her warnings, Severus."

"I did nothing of the kind. This is completely unreasonable. I do not need any more rest than I've been getting."

Lupin, who had started toward the stairs, stopped and turned toward him, his lips pulled into a thin line of determination. "Nonetheless, you will be getting more rest from now on. Even if I must confiscate your wand to ensure you remain in our rooms."

Remus knocked on Sirius' office door and waited.

"Ow!" The door sprang open, and Sirius, who was rubbing his shin, beckoned him inside. "Watch the boxes."

Remus looked around disdainfully. The office was a mess. Worse, even, than what had been left behind the previous year. Stacks of books, boxes overflowing with what looked like ungraded student essays, and piles of magical objects crowded the small space. The desk was buried under rolls of parchment. "Having a bit of trouble here, Sirius?"

"No," Sirius said, scowling. "No trouble at all."

Remus picked his way carefully to the visitor's chair. He'd known Sirius would revert back to his old habits once the motivation to stay organized was taken away, but he hadn't thought the change would come so quickly. "It's only the third week of classes. How many essays have you been assigning, to get this load?"

Sirius pushed around some of the papers in front of him, finally coming up with a battered record book. "Only two in each class so far. Most of these I assigned as punishment. I thought it would be more beneficial than handing out detentions." He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "Besides, Filch won't take any more of mine, and you've got Snape confined..."

Remus cleared his throat uncomfortably. "That happens to be what I came here to talk to you about. I need a favor."

Sirius looked at him suspiciously. "What is it?"

"The full moon is tomorrow and I need you --" Remus held up a hand quickly, seeing Sirius about to protest -- "I need you to make sure Severus doesn't use the opportunity to do anything he shouldn't."

Sirius stared at him incredulously.

"Will you do it?"'

"Are you quite mad? You want me to baby-sit Snape? He'll blow Hogwarts to the moon if he gets wind of that."

"I just need you to stay outside the door -- you can transform for that -- and make sure he isn't brewing potions in there. You'll be able to smell it if he does."

"I don't know," Sirius said slowly. "What about you? If I'm lying under Snape's door, I can't be with you."

"It's all right. It's only one night. I'll stay in Hagrid's hut and play with Fang... maybe even get him to stick more than his nose out from under the bed this time. Please, Sirius?"

"Oh... all right," Sirius said grudgingly. "I'll do it. But only just this once."

"Thank you."

Sirius shrugged. "Your hide if he finds out."

"Of course," Remus said. Then he looked around. "If you like, I can help you with these essays."

Sirius brightened up instantly. "Would you? McGonagall's been after me all week."

"Just send them over, and I'll take care of them. I'll take a stack with me now."

Quickly, Sirius swept the papers off his desk into a large box. "Here."

Remus tucked the box under his arm and stood up. "I'll have them back to you tomorrow. Try to organize the rest by class."

"I appreciate this, Remus."

"And I appreciate you agreeing to look after Severus."

"I still think that isn't likely to end well."

"It's the only way I'll have any peace of mind all night. You wouldn't want me to lose my head again and try to get back into the castle?"

Sirius shrugged. "You're safe. It's not like anyone was hurt."

"We frightened a student half out of her mind, Sirius. Another incident like this, and it will get back to the Ministry, and then out I'll go."

Sirius cringed.

"Well," Remus said after a long pause. "I should go back. Good night."

He walked quickly back to the dungeons.

There was one obvious problem with trying to keep Snape inside. Remus himself couldn't step out for more than a few minutes. He had learned that lesson after coming back to a room smelling of sulphur and burned herbs, though there was no sign of the potion by then. From then on, he had taken his meals with Snape, excused himself from staff meetings, and put on hold his own research work.

Fool that he was, he had actually thought at the beginning that this would be their chance to spend quality time together. He had always resented the way Snape could hide behind a cauldron, ignoring him.

If anything, the situation had underscored their communication problem. Three weeks into Snape's confinement, they could barely speak two words to each other without ending in shouts.

Snape was in his study, reading a thick tome. He looked up and eyed Remus' box suspiciously, but did not speak.

"I'll be grading some essays for Sirius."

"Is the mutt incapable of handling even that small aspect of teaching?"

"He's got a bit behind, that's all."

Snape snorted and turned back to his book.

"I wish you wouldn't sulk, Severus."

Snape's head jerked up. "Sulk? I'm hardly sulking. Has that blasted nurse suggested I am no longer well enough to read a book?"

"Poppy only wants what's best for you and the baby. And no, she hasn't said anything about reading."

"In that case, leave me to it."

"But she did say something about getting a full night of sleep," Remus said firmly, depositing the box on the desk and then prying the book out of Snape's hands. "And it's past ten now."

Snape growled at him.

Undeterred, Remus marked the page, closed the book, and set it on the nearest shelf. "The book will still be here in the morning. Come to bed."

Snape didn't move.

"Please, Severus."

Grumbling, Snape started to pull himself up off the couch, batting away Remus' hand when he attempted to help. "I'm not an invalid."

"Of course not," Remus said with a heavy sigh. Why couldn't Snape accept even a bit of help? Always worrying about his precious reputation, no matter how ridiculous he looked in the process, compensating for the weight of his belly as he stood up.

He averted his eyes while Snape undressed. He had already once made the mistake of touching one of the pale, thin lines that stretched across Snape's belly.

The narrow window gave him a view of the night sky, and the moon that looked full, but wasn't quite.

"You've taken your potion?"

Remus nodded.

"You need the other."

"No," Remus said quickly. "We already had this discussion."

Ignoring him, Snape left the room. When he came back he had a glass full of red liquid.

"I said, I won't have you do this," Remus said, refusing the offered glass.

"Drink it."

Remus blinked. "What?"

"Drink it. Diluted with vinegar it's safe to ingest and has nearly the same effect."

Remus stared at him, his mind almost refusing to wrap around what he was hearing. "What?"

Snape shoved the glass into his hands. "Are you daft? Drink the damn potion."

Remus looked down at the potion and sniffed it tentatively. "You bastard. There was never any need to put me through all those tedious hours, was there?"

Turning his back to him, Snape climbed under the covers and spelled out the light on his bedside table. "Of course there was a need. It got you into my bed."

"You bastard," Remus repeated softly. Louder, he said, "Why keep up the charade? You knew I didn't want you sitting up for so long, but you said nothing. Do you know how guilty I felt every time I let you apply it?"

Snape made no answer.

"That was pure contrariness, wasn't it? You did that just to thumb your nose at --"

"Drink the potion and get in bed," Snape interrupted, turning his back to Remus. "I don't know why you insist on arguing about every small thing, but you tire me." He looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Why do you do these things, Severus? One would think we're enemies instead of lovers. You go out of your way to defeat my best intentions, as if you think I mean you harm. I don't. When are you going to realize that?"

"When are you going to realize that I'm not one of your precious Gryffindors, to be coddled and held by the hand?"

Swallowing his bitter anger, Remus jerked off his robes and tossed them over a chair. "I never treated you like a child, except when you insisted on acting like one. If I left you to your own devices, you would have ignored everything Poppy said. I want what's best for our child. I also want what's best for you, even if you won't believe that. I'll do whatever is necessary."

Sniffing derisively, Snape turned away again. "You've made that perfectly clear."

The silence stretched as Remus stood, looking down at Snape, and battled with his frustration.

Finally, he raised the glass and downed the potion.

"Personally," Snape said without turning to look at him, "I would have taken it in small sips."

Remus, who had clutched the headboard for balance as the wave of heat washed over him, could only glare at him through watering eyes.

"That's the last of them," Sirius said, wiping his brow exaggeratedly. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

Remus looked at the stack of essays and shook his head. "I don't mind. It gives me something to do."

"Snape still grouchy?"

"His ankles are so swollen he's finally had to agree to stay in bed."

"Tough," Sirius said, though not sounding overly sympathetic. "Must be driving him up the wall."

"You know he hates being idle."

"If you ask me, it just gives him something to complain about."

"Yes, well... I better get back," Remus said. "I'll try to have these graded by morning."

"No hurry. I appreciate this, you know."

Remus smiled. Of course Sirius appreciated not having to do half his job. "I know."

He returned to the dungeons. Almost at the door, Pomfrey called to him from the other end of the hallway.

"I made this herbal tea blend especially for Severus," Pomfrey said as she caught up with him. She held out a small bag. "Just as well I ran into you. You take it in. He seems to be a bit upset with me these days."

"I'm sorry about that," Remus said. "I'll take it. Thank you."

She smiled. "Just a few more weeks now. But I don't have to tell you, do I? You must be crossing out the days."

Remus ducked his head sheepishly. "Twenty six."

"Pregnancy is not an exact science, you know," she said. "The baby could arrive later. Or sooner."

"I know," Remus said, frowning slightly. "Do you need to see Severus today?"

"No. He's doing fine. As long as he gets plenty of rest, I don't anticipate any problems."

"I'll see to it he stays in bed."

She nodded, turning to go. "Let me know how he enjoys the tea. I will be happy to make more."

"Thank you," Remus called after her.

Snape glared at him through the bedroom doorway as Remus came in. "What did Pomfrey want?"

"Back in bed, Severus," Remus said, setting down both Sirius' essays and the bag.

"I am in bed, or are you blind?"

"Lie down, then."

Snape snorted angrily and reached for his wand. The bedroom door slammed shut.

Remus sighed. Could he stand another month of this?

"Poppy made you some herbal tea, Severus," he called though the closed door. "Would you like me to make you a cup now?"

There was no answer.

Setting the kettle to boil, Remus sat down with a quill and the first of the essays. There was just no point trying to talk to Snape when he was in this mood.

He just wished he knew why Snape was so determined to make everything more difficult than it had to be.

Severus looked up from his book.

He couldn't hear Lupin in the next room, but he knew Lupin was still there, determined to make sure Severus stayed in bed and rested, like Pomfrey wanted.

He tossed the book aside.

Herbal tea. He supposed Lupin wouldn't be satisfied until he drank it. If Pomfrey did make it, it was probably terrible. The woman wasn't even capable of mixing a simple cough draught, and what could be simpler than that?

He looked at the clock, scowling when he counted the hours before the day's end. How could time pass so slowly?

He wasn't used to doing nothing. This sort of life was more suited for that mutt, Black. He couldn't imagine a more worthless and lazy creature. Having Lupin do all his work for him, while he spent his nights drunk in Hogsmeade, no doubt!

He rubbed his sore stomach, where the baby's feet had kept up a steady drumming all morning. Wouldn't it ever be over? He had never in his wildest nightmares thought pregnancy could last so long, or be so mind-numbingly dull. No nine month period in his life had ever dragged on so.

What he really wanted was the old Lupin back. He fondly recalled nights in the staffroom, when they would suddenly realize they had spent hours talking. No amount of time together had seemed like enough, especially if they were rudely interrupted just when Severus thought he had Lupin where he wanted him.

He'd even take back the fussing, coddling Lupin of his first trimester. At least the sex had kept time moving along.

Not that he expected Lupin to be interested in him now, when he looked like a bloated whale. And if he was, Pomfrey would probably put a quick end to that.

If it wasn't necessary to keep Lupin at arm's length, maybe he wouldn't be in this position. Maybe they could have discussed school affairs, at least, since Severus could no longer keep a close eye on his students and the incompetent worm who was teaching them.

But it had to be done. The experts -- who normally could not seem to agree on anything -- all claimed that the correct way to share parenting duties was to start out by respecting each other's right to make decisions concerning the child. The parents, the experts claimed, would make things easier on themselves if they would make an effort to work together, learning to compromise and divide the work load even before the child's arrival.

It stood to reason, then, that the more contrary and difficult Severus made himself now, the more likely Lupin would be thrilled to find him so willing to leave all things relating to their infant up to him.

Necessary. Yes. But terribly dull.

"Severus? Ready for your tea?"

"I don't want any tea," Severus muttered, looking up and glaring. "I told you that. Have you grown deaf?"

Apparently possessing the patience of a saint, Lupin simply set the tray down on the table and smiled. "Please try it. It smells wonderful."

Severus eyed the steaming cup.

"I will bring you some scones, if you like."

"Don't bother."

With a painful sigh, Lupin turned to go. "All right. Call me if you need anything. I'll be grading essays."

"Shut the door. There's a draft."

Lupin shut the door carefully behind himself. Any other man would have slammed it.

The tea was just as disgusting as Severus predicted. A quick spell drained the cup, leaving only a few tea leaves clinging to the bottom.

A look at the clock showed no significant forward movement.

Sighing impatiently, Severus reached for another book.

Remus crossed out the last day of October and replaced the calendar in the drawer.

"If you are not coming to bed, then at least turn down the light."

Deep breaths sometimes helped, and Remus took several before turning to face Snape. "Would you like me to massage your feet?"

"If you wish."

Remus smiled slightly. He knew Snape's ankles were still bothering him. He had never yet turned down a massage.

"Here we go," he said, spreading a thick glob of oil onto his hands. "You just lie back and relax."

Snape grumbled irritably, but quickly settled against the small mountain of pillows that had become necessary since the backaches began.

Rubbing slowly, Remus worked his way down to Snape's toes. "How's that?"

"Harder."

"Like this?"

Snape grunted, and Remus took that for a yes. This nightly ritual had become the one time they could talk -- if one could call this conversation -- without being at each other's throats.

"You know, Poppy says the baby could come any day now. It's important that you pay attention to any --"

"Believe me," Snape said, opening his eyes to glare at him, "if anyone wants this thing out as soon as possible, it's me. I won't miss the signs."

"It hasn't been so bad, has it?" Remus asked, continuing to rub soothingly. "I know you don't like staying in bed, but --"

"That's enough," Snape said, pulling his feet under the duvet. "Thank you."

Remus let the conversation drop. Snape was tired, achy, and cranky. Of course he couldn't find anything good about the pregnancy just then. "All right. Do you want another blanket?"

"No."

Remus undressed and got in bed, snuffing the oil lamp. In the darkness, all he could see of Snape was an oddly shaped mass on the other side of the bed.

"Severus?"

"What is it?"

"Are you sorry you agreed to this?"

"Don't be stupid. Would I rather have lost you to Black?"

"That's not what I meant at all."

There was a long silence. Remus only knew Snape wasn't asleep by his unsteady breathing.

"No."

Remus turned toward him, though he could see in the dark. "What?"

"I'm not sorry I agreed to this. This is what you wanted all your life, and if I could give that to you, then I'm glad I found out about it in time."

Remus pulled himself up into a sitting position. "Then you admit you never wanted the baby. You found out I wanted it and you used that knowledge."

"Of course I did. You knew that."

"But you want it now, don't you?" Remus heard a hint of desperation creep into his own voice. It was nothing compared to what he was feeling. "You want the baby now?"

There was another silence, and Remus waited in breathless distress.

"Of course I do."

"Do you?"

"It's our child. Don't you think I would want it? If anything, it is the fruit of our... relationship. And if it happens to be a male child..."

"Then what?"

"Then I will have an heir. I may not have a lot to leave, in terms of material possessions, but still."

"And if the baby is a girl?"

Snape shifted in bed, turning onto his side and away from Remus. "Then we will have a daughter, and you will have something besides me to fuss over. Now go to sleep, Remus. You are the one always urging me to get my rest. Do you intend to keep me up all night with these ridiculous questions?"

"No," Remus said, forcing the words out past the tightness in his chest. "Good night, Severus."

"Good night."

As usual, Snape dropped off to sleep momentarily.

Remus, afraid to move and disturb him, lay silently in the dark, unable to stop the thoughts that kept him wide awake until dawn.