Out on the en-suite balcony, the potions master shot back his sixth glass of whisky. He sighed as the golden liquid worked it's magic.
Inhaling the warm, fall night breeze (Hermione had been in the Hospital all day) he slapped his glass down on the balcony table. 'Damn those cherubs!' he scowled. He made note to send a nasty letter to the ministry in the morning.
"Hmmmm...troubling times Severus?" queried a wise, old and dearly missed friend from a 4x6 silver frame. "About time you showed up!" the dark man growled as he moved the fancy frame closer, refilling his glass with a shaky hand.
"Well my dear boy, unfortunately I've been needed by many, what with those cheeky cherubs causing a fuss." Severus scowled as he watched Albus Dumbledore pop a lemon drop in his mouth. "Really?" he raised a brow at the gilded frame. Dumbledore looked up, "Fortunately so..."and leaned back in his portrait wing back chair, by a merrily lit fireplace. "I take it Miss Granger hasn't returned yet?"
Severus scowled again, "No, soon though, a patronus was sent shortly before you arrived with a message that she is awake and aware." and downed a seventh glass, his senses starting to dull.
"What's troubling you Severus?" Dumbledore queried quietly, patiently. Setting his glass down again, he glared at the frame, or what would pass for a drunken glare. "She's pregnant Albus...and it's mine." he pushed his hands through his hair for the fifteenth time (odd the things he could track in durress)
"Hmm..." Dumbledore steepled his fingers in thought. Severus rubbed his brow, attempting to ease the stress ache forming. " Damn those bloody, meddling magical creatures. From what the Mediwizard was saying, she'll have it by December..." the dark man scowled
"Now, my boy, I've know you for quite some time. Don't let fear cloud your judgement, or your future for that matter." Albus pushed his spectacles forward. "I have no desire to be a father Albus." muttered Severus, with regret in his unguarded face.
The old wizards face softened in sympathy "Your father was a selfish, manipulative and abusive man. Fear not my boy, you are you, a good, loyal and sound man. I have faith that you'll do fine. Stand by Hermione my boy, for as much as your world may feel tossed, I imagine she feels the same. There may be difficulties ahead for her, from what Madame Pomfrey figures. She will need you Severus, you are a gifted Potions Master and I've seen your inventions. Your ingenuity might ne needed for her down the road." he stood in his portrait "Stand by her Severus, and perhaps, you might get the chance of a lifetime."
" And that would be?..." Severus slurred as he contemplated the empty whisky bottle.
"To be the father you never had my boy...now sober up, and sleep on it. I'm off to speak to an old colleague, he might have some answers to this delightful dilemma." and strolled from his portrait.
Passing his hand through his hair yet again, the potions reached in his robe for his wand. Casting the strongest dissalusionment spell (one of his creation) he faced the patio doors of the en suite balcony. He wasn't in a frame of mind for immediate confrontation, so he quietly waited for Hermione to return.
