Disclaimer- Still not mine.
A/N1: I must apologize in advance. This chapter is massively long- almost 10k words long. I simply couldn't find the right place to break it. I hope, however, that the ending will put you dear readers in a forgiving mood. Still angsty- Severus is a bit of a git in this one, and Ron is undoubtedly one. Also, I rarely do this, but this chapter is dedicated to hpbrat2 for helping me with the name *grins*
Foolish Games Pt 6
As Harry headed into the middle of his fifth month, he was suddenly struck by the oddest of urges. Looking around Severus' house one bright afternoon, he spotted a small patch of dust on a bookshelf in the lower half of the library. Smudging his finger across it, he was disgusted with the substance. Gazing about, he saw more, not only on the shelves, but on the hardwood floor as well.
This utterly annoyed him.
Calling for Tibby, he requested a cleaning rag and some polish. He then proceeded to spend the rest of the afternoon happily scourging the library, at least all the places he could reach without a ladder of some sort. Even when his fingers cramped and were slightly raw from his activities, he continued on.
By the time Severus arrived home from his Potions shop, the library shelves were spic and span, and the floor was gleaming. Severus stood dumbfounded in the doorway, observing a humming, and rather largely pregnant Harry Potter, puttering around the room, pushing misplaced books back into their 'correct' order.
His eyes widened as he realized, in horror, that the precious tomes were now alphabetized and categorized. "What do you think you are doing?" he cried out, shock, concern and anger all warring in his tone. Harry spun around, an almost maniacal smile on his face.
"The library needed cleaning," he stated, as if it was oh so obvious. "So I cleaned it. What do you think?"
Severus, seeing red, stalked into the room, took the book from Harry's hands and setting it down with a slam on the near-by table. "This…" he hissed," This is my house, Potter. My library. Did you, in that tiny mind of yours, think about that before you decided to desecrate my house?"
Harry stepped back, his eyes beginning to fill with tears. "I…I just wanted to…" he gulped in air.
Severus, still in a fit, ignored the poor distraught man's stuttering and flew about the room, inspecting the damage. "This will take me hours to undo," he ranted. Harry shrunk farther into himself. He watched as the irate Potions Master picked up several books, thumping them down on the cushion of a chair. "All out of order. Smith's Greatest Potions- A History has no business being place next to Sir Novell's Mastery of Draughts." Then he rounded to face his charge. He pointed a long finger at Harry. "And you! You were expected to rest. Have you no thought for your child's welfare? Are you really that selfish?" he barked out.
Harry could take no more. As quick as his legs would carry him, he shot out of the room, stumbling as he headed towards his chair and the safety of his room. Once inside, he collapsed on his bed, hot tears of confusion spilling from his eyes. He had actually felt a sense of accomplishment while performing his task, only to realize he had made a major mess of things.
That night, he stayed locked in his room, refusing food, as his stomach was far too upset to attempt eating. His tears whetted the pillows beneath his head long after he had heard the still grumbling Severus pass by his door. The man had paused briefly outside and Harry held his breath, unsure how he should react if the surly man decided to demand entrance.
After a few tense moments, Severus moved on, and Harry buried himself deeper into his covers. His confusion only grew when he came to the realization that he had wanted acknowledgment from his housemate. He wanted Severus to be happy with him. He craved his acceptance and attention. It tore at his heart and puzzled him to no end. Had they been in a relationship, where Severus was his partner, he could understand this need; the attraction he found himself having for the stern man's notice. As they were not, and he couldn't see them being in such, the whole situation confounded him. Saddened, he mulled over his thoughts far into the night.
Severus, on the other hand, found his anger burning out very rapidly after Harry's panicked departure. He stopped his ranting, throwing a few books across the room in his self-directed rage. They hit the wall with simultaneous bangs. Severus slid to the floor, his back against the wall and closed his burning eyes. Again. Again he had lost control. And this time, it was for an even stupider excuse. So the restless boy had scrubbed the entirety of the downstairs portion of the library. So he had reorganized Severus' books.
So What?
It wasn't something so drastic that a few flicks of the wand would have everything back where he had it. So why? He sat there for hours, his thoughts deep and his face drawn in contemplation. What was it about Harry that drove him to fly off the handle?
Fear.
The answer hit him, crackling inside his mind like lightning. He was afraid. Afraid to feel too deeply. Afraid that he would open up to Harry, only to lose him in the end. Afraid that he was helpless to do anything to keep the potential death sentence away from the man he had come to care so very deeply for.
His hands covered his face and he groaned. The sound was pain filled, hopeless. Albus had hit the nail on the head. He needed Harry in his life. The man brought brightness and understanding like he had never experienced with another person before. If Harry had been for Draco what he was now, for Severus, then the silver Prince as indeed a fool.
Now the question remained, would he be the fool as well?
The answer was not readily forthcoming, he found. Long into the night, he pondered his thoughts. Tibby brought him his dinner, informing him, reproachfully, that Master Harry had not come down. He worried over this, sending the elf up with a plate of food, and asked that she report back to him.
She did so, although he could tell, she was very upset with his actions. "Master Harry is being not hungry, he says. Master Harry is being sad. Says he is tired and will sleep."
Severus' head jerked in a weird little nod. "Thank you Tibby. Please, keep a close watch on him, tonight. And inform me of anything important."
The little elf nodded, then popped away.
After finishing his meal and banishing the dishes to the kitchen, he climbed to his feet, his bones protesting his lack of movement. Ignoring the slight pain, he bent and picked up the books he had earlier thrown. Tracing the words on the covers, he gingerly place them back on the table. Leaving the library the way it was, he sought out the notes he had brought back with him from his lab.
He had been working on a special project for the past few days, which, if all went well, would result in a sleeping draught Harry could take without compromising the safety of his baby, and himself. He would begin brewing in the morning, as soon as he could get to his shop. He found, once again, that he delighted in doing little things like this for Harry.
Must be love- that queer little voice in his head said snarkily. He pushed it aside as he paused outside of Harry's door. He listened a moment, trying to determine whether or not to disturbed him. Not hearing any noise from within, he decided he would wait until the morning. He had a feeling he would be eating humble pie for breakfast.
He did not get the chance, however, for the next morning, Harry did not appear while Severus was still about the house. If this was intentional on Harry's part, or not, he didn't know. Unable to wait any longer, and quite eager to begin work on Harry's potion, Severus left the house, giving Tibby strict instructions once again. He also made sure the younger man was left with a sweet citrus smelling polish, and a request to clean the piano. He hoped Harry would understand and forgive him.
The darkness of his lab suited his mood. It was well into the afternoon before he ventured out of it. The noise of the bustling shop was a shock to his senses and he took a moment to gain his bearings. His customary scowl firmly placed on his face, he nodded tersely to a few of the regulars and then turned to Jocelyn, his assistant for the day.
"Any owls from Harry?" he asked quietly.
Jocelyn through the newest stack of missives and shook her blonde spring curls. "None, sir. Although, there was a woman asking for you. She said she was an old student of yours."
Severus frowned. "Did you obtain a name, by any chance?"
"Hermione Weasley. Isn't she Ronald Weasley's wife?" Jocelyn asked, curiosity sparkling in her blue eyes.
His frown turned into a glare. "That she is. And you didn't think to tell me until just now?"
The girl's throat worked rapidly. Her cheeks colored and she ducked her head. "Begging your pardon, sir. You had said it was important that you not be disturbed unless it was an emergency. Mrs. Weasley only wanted to speak with you. She said she would return around closing."
Severus turned away, his robes bellowing out behind him. "Fine. Be sure to inform me when she arrives." Irritated, he stormed back into his lab, losing himself back in amidst his ingredients.
A few hours later, a tentative knock sounded. Jerking open the door, he glared down at his assistant.
The girl gulped. "She's here, sir," she said, before disappearing back into the shop front. Severus followed silently.
Hermione stood patiently off to the side of the counter. Gazing around the shop, her eyes finally fell on Severus' imposing form. She stepped forward with a polite smile. She did not hold out her hand, knowing instinctively it would not be welcomed. "Hello, Professor."
Severus' head nodded once in greeting. "Mrs. Weasley. What brings you here?"
"Harry," she replied. "We still haven't heard from him."
His eyebrow shot up. "And, why pray tell, would you come to me? I am not his keeper, after all."
Hermione looked him over slowly, her smile turning into a knowing grin. "Aren't you though?" she asked.
Taken aback, Severus' face paled. "What are you implying, Weasley?" he ground out through his tightly clenched teeth.
Hermione held up her hands in a show of good faith. "I wasn't implying anything, Professor. Merely making an observation. Your explanation, when we spoke last, didn't ring true."
Severus' expression darkened. "It is the only one you will get. So I suggest you abandon the issue."
Her smile still stretching across her face, the brown of her eyes glinted with speculation. "I want to know what's going on with him, sir. You seem to know." She paused, suddenly looking defeated. The change was uncomfortable to see. "I'm worried about him, sir. He hasn't kept us away like this in years. I know he's hiding something. Something big. Please, if you know, tell me." Her voice cracked with untold concern.
Severus suddenly had a decision to make. He could inform Harry's friends, forcing Harry to acknowledge them, and whatever it was holding him back. By doing so, it would pave the way for him to bow out gracefully, confident that Harry would be in good hands. After all, the Golden Trio were famous for their friendship and care shown.
Did he want that? Did he truly want to leave, knowing he could be walking away from a small chance at happiness?
He thought a moment. Then, he grabbed a sheet of parchment from the counter, quickly scribbling down his address. "My house. Come around seven tomorrow evening. Harry should be up from his nap by then."
Hermione took it gingerly, not venturing the question he knew she was just dying to ask. "Thank you, Professor," she said sincerely.
Severus shook his inky head. "I'm not doing this for you. Potter needs his friends. And if he refuses to tell you, he will show you instead."
With a frown, Hermione shook her head. "If I didn't know you to be such a prat, I'd say you actually care about Harry, Professor."
Severus glowered. "You may not be my student any longer, Mrs. Weasley, but this is still my shop. I won't hesitate to hex you out of here if you insist on spouting such nonsense. Now, if there isn't anything else, I have a potion to finish. Remember seven, tomorrow," he said grimly, returning to the bowels of his shop.
Ignoring the nagging feeling in his heart and the accompanying voice in his head, Severus tiredly trudged into the house a little after nine that night. The potion for Harry's sleep still needed to sit over night. He sincerely hoped it would be effective.
Wondering whether or not Harry had forgiven him, he fumbled with his light coat, hanging it on the rack in the hall. Soft tendrils of music floated about the house, the notes of Brahms' Lullaby curled through the air. He had never heard it played so softly, the tune dipping and swelling with love and contentment. Apparently, Harry was in a better mood. With a minute smile of relief, he climbed the stairs.
Once again, he found Harry at the piano, his distended belly more than a little obvious, and hampering him a little. His fingers still moved like water over the keys, a serene smile on his face. The instrument gleamed with a gorgeous sheen and Severus knew Harry had forgiven him.
"She likes it when I play this," Harry said softly, not looking away from his music. Severus moved farther into the room, his steps measured and silent.
"It is a soothing tune," he agreed. He watched with amazement as Harry turned his glowing green eyes to Severus, sheer unadulterated peace and joy shining within.
"Thank you," he said simply, the final notes dieing away. He sat there for a few more moments. "and I accept."
Severus, understanding what he meant, nodded. "Come, I believe Tibby has prepared dinner for us," he invited.
Harry rose slowly, bracing his hands on the lid for balance. "I feel like a balloon. A very big, lopsided balloon," he complained. Moving carefully, he stopped right before Severus. "I put the library back to order," he informed the surprised Potions Master. "I should have asked. Robert says I'm nesting."
Severus pulled a face. "Nesting? You're becoming a bird?" he asked comically.
Harry cracked a smile. "No. It's the Muggle term, I guess. Women go through it, in preparation for the arrival of the baby."
Severus cocked an eye brow. "I suppose that makes sense. Birds and other creatures do something similar."
"Indeed," came Harry's response. His eyes lit with mischief as he said the word, knowing it was Severus' usual. Severus found himself hard pressed to not smile back. Instead he gestured to the open door.
"Shall we?" he asked. Harry nodded once, then led the way out of the room. Severus followed at a close gait, carefully watching the toddling man. He sighed slightly when Harry reached his chair and began the descent down the stairs.
"I know I have thanked you before, Severus," Harry commented as he alighted from the chair. "But I really do appreciate what you've done for me. And I'm sorry for yesterday."
Severus waved the apology away. Harry wasn't at fault, by any means. For once, the blame lay entirely at Severus' feet. And yet… he looked away. It never got any easier-this apologizing and caring. He swiped a hand through his hair tiredly. After tomorrow, it would no longer be his problem. He wondered if he should say something to the now humming Gryffindor, then decided against it. He didn't want to allow Harry time to think of an excuse, or in the extreme case - escape. Not that he would, in all likelihood. His loyalties were too ingrained for that.
Although… one never knew with Harry. Especially lately.
"…nursery. There's catalogues for a few Muggle stores. They even deliver. It might be better if I order from there instead of anything here in the wizarding world," Harry said, pausing to take a bite of his baked chicken.
Severus tuned in once again, surprised that he had been so deep in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized they were seated at the table. Harry had apparently been conversing with him in the meantime. Catching the last few statements, he "hmm" in response.
"That might be the course of wisdom, Harry," was all he said, cutting his chicken and taking a bite. He felt a pang of regret, as Harry picked up the conversation once again. He had no business interjecting anything into it really. He would be forfeiting all rights after Harry's friends took over. And he had no doubt, with Granger…er… Weasley involved, that the situation would indeed be taken over. There would be no need for a surly old man like himself.
His appetite lost, he pushed away his plate, picking up his wine glass instead. He studied the burgundy liquid as it sloshed about in the glass.
"Do you mind if I have some of the clothes delivered here?" Harry asked, shaking him back to reality. He looked up, his eyes hard with determination. The look of relaxed delight in Harry's eyes almost made him falter.
"I do not think that would be feasible, Harry. The necessities for your daughter should be at your residence. They have no place here," he responded harshly.
Harry's expression turned to one of confusion. "I'm not asking for a whole room for the stuff, Severus," he replied calmly. "I would keep it all in my room. I just want to be able to organize it all."
Severus stood, and shook his head. "Would that not be counterproductive? You would then have to move the whole operation back over to your cottage. What would be the point?" He watched as Harry's shoulders drooped in defeat, his face turning red. He twisted his hands in his lap and nodded.
"I guess you're right. Silly me for not thinking it through." He likewise stood, giving a stiff nod of his head to his host. "I'm going to bed. Night, Severus," he muttered. He stumbled slightly on his way out, but caught himself before Severus could react. Sheepishly, he tossed a look over his shoulder. "I should start wearing padded clothes."
Severus said nothing, stuffing the almost offered hand into his pocket. He inclined his head once, then stood in silence as the younger man shuffled away slowly. He heard him call out "Up," and then the loud click of his door being shut. Slumping back into his chair, he felt the overwhelming urge to go to Harry and explain everything.
The problem was, he didn't know what everything was, much less how to explain it. His behavior was callous and erratic to say the least. His harsh and unforgiving words confusing at best. Since the visit from Hermione, and his decision to back out of Harry's life, he had this heavy burn permeate his body, starting from his heart.
He had convinced himself that he was doing the unselfish thing, turning Harry's care over to those who knew and loved him.
"But so do you, maybe more so than they do," his nagging inner voice threw out.
"Enough, no more," he whispered dangerously. Surprisingly, it did as it was told. And he was lonelier than ever.
A rift had begun, or perhaps it had always been there. Severus wasn't sure which. Either way, he had begun down this path, and he meant to see it through.
For Harry.
Harry curled onto his side, not an easy task considering his large stomach. His daughter was restless tonight, making full use of her elbows and knees. He winced as she delivered a particularly fierce blow to his spine. "Oi! That's my back, little one," he cried out. His fingers played with the covers on his bed as he thought over dinner.
Severus' actions and attitude had been like a roller-coaster, blowing hot then cold. It was almost as if the Potion Master was trying to push him away for some reason. He thought that after the whole library fiasco, and then their actions to rectify the situation, they had perhaps formed a truce of some sort. But as Severus harsh words demonstrated, Harry was obviously missing something here.
"He doesn't want me around anymore," he said tearfully. "I'm big and in the way and messing up everything. I cry at the drop of a wand, and interrupt his routine. He has obviously had enough." He buried his face in his pillow, muffling the beginnings of his sobs.
Everything was all wrong.
All wrong.
And he had no idea why.
Breakfast was a somber affair. Severus was surprised to see Harry in the kitchen before he himself arrived. As of late, Harry had taken to sleeping late again. By the near black circles under his eyes, Severus surmised Harry hadn't gotten much -if any- sleep the night before. He had to wonder how much of that wasn't due to his actions the night before.
The thought only heightened his determination to let Harry go. He would only cause more harm than good if he continued down that path.
Harry refused to even look at him, he noticed. His eyes were glued to his tea cup, the steam curling up into weird little patterns. Every once in a while, he would pick the cup up, place it to his lips, and then set it down, untasted. The air in the room was stifling, and Severus had begun to feel claustrophobic. He grabbed a piece of toast and fled. If the start of this day was any indication, it would be one hell of a trip.
He had set his hand to the plough, however. And he could only go forward.
When the floo flared to life, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He had spent the night thinking, and had come to a decision. He realized that he valued Severus as a friend, perhaps even more. Because of that, he wanted to see the stoic man happy. That obviously had not been the case lately, a situation he felt was due largely to his continued presence. Despite their earlier efforts, Harry was sure the anger Severus held for him had only continued.
Harry had outstayed his welcome. And this morning had only confirmed it. With a heavy heart, he decided to spend his last day in Severus' home at the piano. After today, he would no longer have access to such an instrument, at least until he purchased one for his cottage. Slowly, he made his way into the music room, coming to a stop before the piano. Lovingly, he ran gentle fingers over the lid, memorizing the contours of the wood, the texture and gleam of the polished keys. And with each note played that day, he remembered his time with Severus. There were times he thought they had made some inroads into friendship, a deeper understanding of their own battles, and shared triumphs. He had been mistaken, or so it seemed.
A tear drop rolled down his cheek, splashing silently onto the keys. With it, his music turned heartbreakingly dark, his frustration, and longing pouring from his fingers. Long into the afternoon, he allowed his emotions to flow. Exhausted finally, he conjured a settee and curled upon it. As sleep overtook him, he saw Tibby shake her odd-shaped head in sadness. Somehow, she knew, Harry concluded. And she disapproved.
Severus was a wreck by the time he came home at a quarter after six that evening. Silence once again greeted him. He knew he would have to get used to it, after this evening. Tibby popped in before him, her ears moving back and forth, and a sour look on her face.
"Master Harry is being sad," she informed him, allowing no room for doubt that she held him responsible for her Master's mood.
"Where is he?" he asked.
"He is being in the music room again. He is not leaving room all day, just plays and plays."
Severus cocked his head, listening. "He's not playing now, is he?"
Tibby shook her head, her ears flopping about. "No, he is sleeping now."
Nodding, Severus turned towards the lower half of the library. "Leave him, then. Bring tea into the library. I am expecting… guests," he spat out the last word with disgust.
Tibby wrung her hands, but walked away without another word. Severus shook his head. Weird little creature. He moved into the room, making sure the floo was open. Unable to contain his anxiety, he began pacing the length of the room, wearing new paths in the carpet.
Much to her credit, Hermione was early, dragging a complaining Ron behind her. The floo allowed them through, spewing them out onto the library floor. Ron stumbled slightly, mumbling curses under his breath.
Severus snorted. "You never were known for your grace, were you Weasley?"
Ron returned the glare, brushing his clothes free of soot. "Yes, well…" he stuttered.
Severus shook his head. "Eloquent too." He nodded to Hermione. "Mrs. Weasley, I'm glad to see you at least know the meaning of punctuality."
Hermione recognized his snide statement for the backwards compliment it was. "Thank you for inviting us, Professor."
"I had little choice, didn't I?" he responded with a sneer.
Smiling in a way that reminded him of Luna "Looney" Lovegood, she bobbed her head slightly. "Just the same." She looked around the room, taking in everything with wide eyes. "Your library is incredible, Professor. You have books here that aren't even available by owl-order." She trailed along the shelves, perusing the titles. "A first edition of Merlin's Magic!" she gushed. "Do you know how hard it is to find this?"
"I should hope so," Severus said.
Hermione ignored him, her eyes wide with curiosity. "And Stained Strands. I read about this book back in school. It has some of the most controversial theories on the detection of magical core strands."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh Merlin, she'll be here all night, chattering on about your books," he whined, chancing a glance at Severus. The man stood imposingly straight, with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His look turned into a glower.
"Desist this at once, Mrs. Weasley. I did not ask you to come here for you to enlighten me about my own library. You were concerned about Mr. Potter, were you not?" he asked sharply.
The two had the grace to look embarrassed. "Of course, Professor," Hermione said quietly. "Where is Harry?"
"I'm here," Harry answered, his tone deep with suspicion. "The question is why are you?" He held himself stiffly, keeping to the shadows.
Twin cries of "Mate," and "Harry," came from his friends. Hermione moved to rush forward, then paused, seeing the warning in his green eyes.
"Harry?" she questioned. "We have been so worried about you. You never call, or come over any more," she reprimanded him.
Severus found himself scowling at her patronizing tone. He could feel the rising push of Harry's magic and for once questioned the wisdom of his decision. He caught Harry's eye and saw the anger and hurt in their depths.
"I've been busy, 'Mione," Harry replied, tension filling his body.
"Ah, Mate, that's no excuse." Ron, oblivious to the atmosphere in the room, bounded forward, slapping the younger man on his back. Harry coughed slightly, stumbling forwards. The glow from the floo and the lamps fell upon his form, bathing him in light.
A gasp came from Hermione, and then silence descended immediately upon the friends. Harry pulled back, wrapping his arms protectively around his tummy.
"Harry, are you…" she trailed off, her eyes widen beyond belief. Ron stood off to the side, his mouth gaping like a fish.
"Pregnant? Yes, Hermione. I am," he said lowly. He watched as Ron paled, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Harry protruding belly and Severus' suddenly tense form.
"You! You greasy old bastard" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the silent Potion Master. "How could you do this to him?"
"Imbecile. Your powers of deduction are astoundingly lacking, just like your mind," Severus' sneered, watching Ron's face grow redder. It now rivaled his hair.
"Well if you're not, then who?" Hermione asked.
"Draco," Harry told them quietly. Severus could hear the defeat in his voice.
Ron's glare turned from Severus to Harry, his eyes narrowing. "Draco," he repeated, just as quietly. "I told you, Harry. I told you Malfoy was bad news. That he would do something to hurt you. But you didn't listen. Oh no. You were in love with the pounce. So sure he had changed. Now look at the mess you're in."
"Ron!" Hermione called out warningly. Ron shot her a look, then refocused on Harry.
"I didn't asked for this to happen," Harry countered.
"You never do, Harry. But stuff still does. You end up in these impossible situations, always dragging us into them. Somebody always gets hurt. Or worse. Look at our school years. Look at all the scrapes me and 'Mione were in because something happened to you. We almost died, my brother did die because of your mess," he spat out.
"Ron!" Hermione gasped in surprise. She looked over to Harry, his face darkened, his body beginning to tremble.
The air in the room dropped exponentially. Severus braced himself for the explosion of magic he was sure would come.
"I've apologized so many times for that, Ron. I thought we were past that. I lost people too, remember?" Harry whispered.
Ron ignored his comment, diving back into his rant. "And now… now. You've dragged Snape into your mess. He's the one to bail you out this time, then? Right choice that."
"And what was I supposed to do, Ron? What would you have me do, huh? Come to you, so you could throw my mistake back in my face?" Harry shouted. "I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry I didn't listen. You were right, that's what you want to hear, isn't it?"
"Damn right, I was. How could you breed with that snake?" Ron growled.
"We were together, damn it. What did you think we did? Sit around and curl each others hair?" Harry shot back.
"I don't know!" Ron yelled stupidly. "I tried not to think about the fact my best mate was a bloody pouncy boy for the Slytherlin Prince. Now you're having his spawn."
CRACK!
The sound of shattering glass shot through the room. The shards spewed all over the ground, making the rug suddenly hazardous for the occupants. Harry's eyes shined with tears of rage, his fists clenched tight enough to draw blood.
"Get out," he hissed. "Don't you dare call my daughter such a thing. No matter her parentage, she is still mine."
Severus decided enough was enough. He stepped forward in between the fuming Ron and the shaking Harry. He felt the push of Harry's magic chill his back and he fought off a shiver. "That is quite enough," he said, his voice tinged with dangerous anger. "I allowed you the courtesy of coming in order for Harry to receive the support he needed from you. You are his friends; I thought that meant something to Gryffindors. I can now see I was very much mistaken." He deepened his death glare, causing Ron to blanch a bit. "Leave," he commanded.
Ron tossed his head in a haughty gesture that would do a pure-blood proud. "We're leaving, alright." He threw Harry another glare. "Maybe next time you'll listen to us, Harry. Come on Hermione." He was through the floo in a rush of hissing flames.
Hermione still stood, shocked at the confrontation. Her cheeks were infused with color as she gingerly stepped towards the panting Harry. Severus blocked her pathway, his face grim with protectiveness. "Harry," she began quietly. "You know how he is, Harry. He didn't mean it."
Harry looked away, biting harshly on his lip. His heart thudded tremendously, the blood rushing through his ears. He could feel the baby twist and turn in his belly, upset by his wild magic and the stress.
Severus was the one to answer. "His behavior is appalling, Weasley. I expected more from you both."
Hermione's eyes flashed momentarily. "Do not presume I share his views, Professor," she paused, softening her voice. "Harry, why didn't you say something, at least to me?"
Harry shook his head. "I didn't want you to know that my relationship with Draco had failed. After all the work I put into fighting for him…" he trailed off.
Hermione sighed. "Oh Harry." She shook her head sadly. "We've known about your break up for months now."
His head shooting up quickly, Harry's eyes widened. "What? How?"
It was Hermione's turn to look away. "It's been all over The Prophet. Ever since he was seen stepping out with Astoria Greengrass back in early January, the rumor mill has been flying."
Tears swam in Harry's eyes. "So even before we broke up?" His friend nodded. "Oh, I see."
Hermione finally ducked around Severus, not hesitating to pull Harry into a hug. "No matter what Ron says right now, you know he still loves you. We both do. Hang in there, okay. I'll talk some sense into him." She pulled back, catching Harry's gaze. "You're alright, though?"
He sniffled a bit and shrugged. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. We're in the home stretch now, just about a month and half left." He returned her hug. "I'll be okay. I promise."
Hermione smiled, releasing him slowly. She turned to Severus. "Take care of him, would you?" she requested. The Potion Master said nothing, his eyes still narrowed with irritation. She understood it was time to go. She hugged Harry one last time before walking to the floo. "I'll call you, Harry. We'll get together sometime soon." With a final wave, she ducked into the flames. The fireplace glared green for a moment, then died down, sending a crushing silence around the remaining occupants.
Severus, for once in his life, had no idea what to say. He realized he had made yet another monumental mistake when it came to Harry. Only this time, he didn't see anyway of fixing it.
Harry turned his back on Severus, carefully picking his way across the dangerous rug. With a wave of his hand, the glasses were repaired and back in their places. He stopped in the doorway. "Now, you understand why I asked you to leave it alone. For once in your goddamn life, couldn't you have listened to me?" he whispered, the words condemningly loud in the room. Without waiting for an answer, he slipped away, intent on locking himself in his room. The baby was still moving at an erratic rate, and he knew he needed to calm himself quickly in order to restore peace to his daughter's inner world.
Severus watched him go, both his mind and heart begging him to follow, to set things right. He ignored them. There was no setting things right, no band-aide to help fix the hurt he had helped to cause. He was more than a little shocked by Weasley's lashing out. He thought nothing could rattle the Golden Trio.
Obviously that had been a gross miscalculation on his part. Albus' previous words came back to him, and he saw now that the old man had been quite correct in his assessment of the situation.
Furious with himself, he left the library and enclosed himself tightly in his quarters. Even when Tibby came bearing his meal, he resolutely ignored her quiet words of reproach, sending his food back to the kitchen without a second glance. Unsure what to do with himself, as his mind refused to let him have any sort of peace, he tossed his notes away, flung himself on his bed, and took a sleeping potion.
Perhaps, he mused, in dreams he would finally understand the answers he sought.
Harry, however, was not so lucky. The argument with Ron had brought to the fore certain insecurities he desperately tried to forget. He had spoke of those dead, those close to him lost. He had confided in Severus of the guilt he felt because of that. During the day, he could ignore them, shove it all aside in favor of the good and light. But in the night, in his dreams, the souls of those killed by his folly spoke to him.
They spoke of the darkness, and the fault that lay at his feet. Draco had once been his light during those times, pulling back the curtain and banishing the shadows. When Harry had left him, he had left the light behind as well.
Until he found out about his daughter…
And Severus.
Even tonight, with the distrust still strongly palatable between them, the man had stepped up in his defense. For a brief moment, Ron's words meant nothing.
Until he remembered the way the dark man had looked at him the night before. And Ron's words began to ring true. He had relied on Severus far too much, to help him through all this. He never stood on his own two feet, and people continued to be hurt or in this case, inconvenienced because of his messes.
Now as he laid half curled on his bed, he saw nothing but shadows; the voices of the dead ringing in his ears. Hands pressed white knuckled over his ears, he cried out in anguish that only the truly lonely know. With no light to call him back, he sank deeper into his despair.
Tibby was called to his room during the early morning hours. She popped into the room, wringing her hands and blinking in the darkness.
"Master Harry. You is calling for Tibby?" she asked.
Harry lifted his head off the edge of his bed and blinked red rimmed eyes. "Yes, Tibby. I need you to pack up our stuff. We're going back to the cottage as soon as you're done," he said despondently.
Tibby began doing as she was told, her eyes flickering to the slumped pregnant form of her master. She finished in record time, everything folded and shrunk down.
"Should Tibby be packing Master Severus' things too?" she asked discreetly.
Harry flinched, then struggled to his feet. "No. Severus' home is here. It is time I give it back to him, mess free. I'll be back in a moment."
He made his way to Severus' bedroom door and stood there a moment, his hand posed to knock. It swung open just as he dropped it. Severus scowled slightly, then frowned. Concern rifled through his being as he took in the exhausted form of his house mate.
"Harry?" he questioned.
Harry raised expressionless eyes to his. His hand came up to rub at the back of his neck and he looked away. "See, the thing is I need to get the cottage ready for the baby and all. The nursery needs done, and I'm…" he fumbled with his explanation. It sounded silly, even in his own mind. "I'm leaving," he finished.
To say Severus was shocked would be an understatement. "Leaving?" he echoed.
Harry bit his lip and nodded. "Yes, in a few minutes in fact. I just wanted to say thank you for putting up with me all this time. And I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused."
Understanding was slowly returning to Severus' mind, and with it, a boiling rage. He stepped forward menacingly. "Have the Weasley's changed their minds then? Ronald has had an epiphany and came to his senses?" he barked.
Harry shook his head. "No."
"Then just where do you plan on going?" Severus asked, his voice horribly quiet.
"Home. To my cottage. It is my home after all," he said sarcastically.
"Who will be staying with you? Tibby?" Severus' mind reeled with the suddenness of it all. True, he had planned for Harry to leave, but with his friends, people who would watch over him, make sure the reckless Gryffindor didn't do anything to jeopardize his life.
Harry glared. "Of course Tibby is going with me. She's all I need, really. It wasn't like you were around a whole lot any way." He stepped back. "Anyway, I apologize for all the trouble you've had to go through on my account. Just bill my account for all the expenses I incurred, okay." His voice broke then and he turned quickly away.
Severus wanted to call out, to shout and rage at the foolish boy who was fleeing before his very eyes. But before he could, he felt the wards shift, telling him Harry was gone. Furious, he spun around, storming to his floo.
He had a call to make.
Harry knew he wouldn't escape Severus' clutches unscathed. So it was no real surprise when Healer Robert stepped through his floo not more than an hour later. However, Harry didn't have a Slytherlin side for nothing. He stood toe to toe with Robert and proclaimed he would stay here for the final weeks of his pregnancy. Nothing Robert threatened would budge the stubborn younger man.
Finally, Robert realized he couldn't persuade him otherwise, and so proposed a compromise. He, or someone from his team would check in on Harry daily, and his floo would be set up with an emergency charm, alerting Robert if anything was amiss. Harry on the other hand, was to stay off his feet and resting as much as possible. The same restrictions implemented weeks ago were still to be carried out. Harry had no choice but to agree.
Still smarting from Ron's accusations and Severus'… whatever… Harry threw himself into preparations for the baby. He poured over magazines and catalogues, sending off for furniture and decorations. The house moved itself, adding a nursery directly off the master bedroom. It was spacious and lined with windows over looking the back expanse. The roar of the ocean filled the room through the open windows, the sea spray smell was refreshing to Harry's taxed senses.
"I needed this, 'Mione," he said quietly, as he watched the pieces of the crib come together. Ah…magic was a wonderful thing.
Hermione sat back in the rocker, charming the wall paper onto the walls. She cast him a soft, reflective smile. Harry looked, well, exhausted, to be plain. His cheeks were hollowed and the rings under his eyes were horribly dark. Hi skin had taken on a pallor from spending too much time inside as of late. She, for one, couldn't wait for this entire ordeal to be over, for Harry's sake.
She had managed to take an extended lunch break, flooing over to the cottage just a little after noon on this early June day. Ron was still milking in his temper tantrum, insisting he had enough of Harry's drama to last a life time. Hermione, after several nights of trying to talk some sense into him, finally gave up, leaving her stubborn, narrow-minded husband to his childish behavior. It disgusted her sometimes, how he refused to move forwards.
Harry, having been a recluse for the last two weeks, ever since his departure from Severus' home, was only too glad to welcome his old friend into his home. He had seen no one, except his team of healers, and the delivery men with his baby's supplies. From Severus, he heard nothing, only receiving a small package of vials two days after he left. The little note accompanying it said it was an improved version of Dreamless Sleep, one that would not be addictive, and safe for him to use while pregnant. Harry had wept, holding the little box close to his chest. After that, he found himself sinking into depression.
So the fire call from Hermione three days ago was a great distraction. In his friend, he found a kindred spirit, willing to help him decorate and talk baby talk. He had missed this…their camaraderie.
"It's a gorgeous place, Harry. Seems to suit you well. And I know the baby will just love this room. It's so bright and airy, and this wallpaper is just adorable," she gushed, spelling the dry piece to move. The little ballet dancers pirouetted and flew across the banner, the tinkling tune of Swan Lake played as they danced.
Harry's face glowed with joy. "Thanks, 'Mione," he said with a grin. He waved his hand and the cloths began sorting themselves into piles. Tibby bounced around the room, opening drawers as the folded clothes flew in.
"Have you thought of a name yet?" she asked.
Nodding, Harry sat down heavily on the ottoman. He rubbed his belly fondly. "I have, a while back, actually. But I'm keeping it to myself until her birth." His voice died for a moment, a lingering sadness deep in his eyes. "I had hoped Sev... um...Snape might be there."
Hermione said nothing. Despite her curiosity, it was a subject she wasn't sure Harry wanted to broach. She had obviously noticed the lack of the snarky Potions Master's presence, as well as Harry's continuous avoidance of the topic.
Harry shrugged. "Kinda silly of me, wasn't it? Ron was right, you know. I never should have involved him. And then, I got so used to him being around, I forgot he had no reason for me to be there."
Hermione paused in her task. "Harry, did you ever think he might have wanted you around, though?" she asked quietly.
Harry gave a brittle little laugh. "Why would he, Hermione? He reminded me time and again that this isn't his problem. He had no obligation." He shook his head. "No. He never wanted me around, and there is no way I would force my presence on him. It's better this way, really it is. And I'm fine. We're fine." He seemed to repeat it in a mantra, as if trying to convince himself that he was indeed better off without the ever intimidating Severus Snape.
Hermione, however, had seen the look in Severus' eyes at the shop, and again at the house, during Ron's tirade. There was protectiveness and a hint of longing in those onyx eyes. Somehow, she got the feeling there was something much deeper there, something that drove Severus to back away from the fragile Harry.
She shook her head sadly. She was surrounded by idiot males who had far more hormonal mood swings than most women she knew.
Three days later, she found out just how right she was.
The pains started just after dinner. They were light at first, mere uncomfortable twinges. Harry had felt incredibly restless all day. He had reorganized the drawers by hand, then spelled them all back the way they were. He had attempted as short walk around the front lawn, admiring the blooming flowers and sweet songs of the birds. But the pangs in his lower back, and the swelling in his ankles drove him back inside.
An owl from Robert said he would be delayed in his visit, citing an emergency as the cause. He would try to stop by in the evening. Tired and worn out, Harry laid down for a nap, only to be awoken an hour later by the incessant need to use the bathroom. Afterward, he awkwardly navigated his way to the dining room. Tibby fixed a light dinner, but Harry simply moved the food around the plate. Wringing her hands tearfully, she proclaimed she had failed to make her Master happy.
Harry had quite a time convincing her that he really didn't feel well, and that it had noting to do with her, or her food. Irritated and beginning to feel sharp knife-like pains radiate throughout his lower body, he retired to the couch in his living room. There, he curled up with a blanket, despite the warm weather, his form shivering uncontrollably.
After an hour or so of tossing and turning, with the pain becoming increasingly worse, he decided that something just might not be right. Checking the clock once again, he prayed to whatever gods there were that Robert would be around soon.
It was Hermione that stepped through the floo at half past eight and found a panting and groaning Harry flopped half on the floor and half on his couch. Her eyes widened in alarm as he reached out to her.
"'Mione, help," he moaned.
"I…I…What should I do?" she sputtered. She wasn't a medi-witch, nor had she had kids yet.
Harry waved his hand. "The blue vase on the floo, tip it to the left."
She frowned, but nodded, stepping up to the mantle and tipping the vase. Almost instantly, the floo turned red and Hermione stepped back quickly. Healer Robert stepped through, shouting back over his shoulder to someone on the other side. Turning around, he took in the situation, and immediately went back through.
A moment of panic seized Hermione and she opened her mouth to call him back, when it flared again and the Healer, as well as three other people came through. Robert walked calmly to Harry's side, kneeling down beside the tortured man. He touched his shoulder, drawing that green gaze to his. "Harry, how long have the pains been coming?" he asked, ignoring the frantic movements behind him. His eyes were focused completely on Harry.
"Don't know. Smm few hours ago, think…" he groaned, his hands clutching the couch cushion tightly. Robert nodded encouragingly.
"Harry, I think it's time. We could try to stop the contractions, but I don't think it would be wise." He ran his wand over Harry's body, his lips pursed at the results. "Your magic's too low for this to last much longer. We risk permanent damage if we don't do something now."
Hermione stepped forward. "Healer, what if you stop his contractions?"
Robert sent her a quick glance before going back to watch the continued results. "Mrs. Weasley, is it? Unfortunately, we just don't know enough about Harry's predicament to accurately make an assessment."
She nodded in understanding. Sitting down next to Harry, she took his hand, wincing as he squeezed her fingers in a bruising grip. He gritted his teeth against the onslaught of another contraction.
"What do you want to do, here?" Robert asked, aiming his question at Harry.
"Just…do…what… you need…to…do," he panted out.
Robert stood, brushing his hands on his pants. "Alright. Just sit tight. We'll get set up, and then move forward with the procedure."
"Procedure?" Hermione echoed.
"With all the information we have on other male pregnancies and deliveries, which admittedly is very sparse, we have found that the other wizard on record had his child delivered by C-section. Apparently, the female body part necessary for a natural birth do not form. Cesarean is the only way." His gaze softened. "Try not to worry. We will do all we can to make this go as smoothly as possible. Now, Mrs. Weasley, if you could follow me, I'd like a short word with you."
With an incline of her head, and another press of Harry's sweaty hand, she got to her feet and followed the Healer across the room. A questioning look filled her eyes as she looked up at the strangely calm man. "Yes?"
"I want you to go to Severus' Snape's shop and fetch him. If he isn't there, try his house. You have the address, correct?" he asked. She nodded. "Good. Tell him I require his assistance, and to bring the potions on this list." He handed her a small piece of parchment. She took it quietly.
"Harry would hex you alive if he knew, you know," she said knowingly.
Robert smiled grimly. "I know. But I really think he also needs Severus' here for this." He glanced back at the grimacing man, as a muffled cry sounded. "Please, hurry."
Convincing Severus was actually much easier than Hermione had anticipated. She found him at his home, burning the midnight oil. His appearance was a disconcerting as Harry's. Hermione now felt sure of her earlier assessment in regards to the Potion Master's feelings towards her friend.
He opened the door with a sneer on his lean face, his hair lanky and falling greasily around his face. His eyes, dark and brooding, rivaled Harry's in dark circles. He pinched his lips into an even tighter white line.
"Potter's not here, if you're looking for him," he growled, moving to shut the door in her face. She placed a foot in the way, a stern look on her face.
"I know. He's at home. I'm here by request of Healer Robert." She noticed the minute widening of Severus' eyes and guessed he understood. She held out the rolled up list. "He asked that you bring these potions."
He snatched it out of her hand, quickly reading it and then swooping back into his home. He gave her a look that said "why are you still here?" She simply smiled back. Shaking his head, he trudged away.
Moments later, he returned. "Come then. We'll use my floo," he remarked. Hermione nodded, following him through without a word.
The flurry of activity contained in the small living room of Harry's cottage reminded Severus of the nights after the final battle. The Healers and assistants moved swiftly and quietly around the room. Harry lay upon a transfigured bed, his face scrunched up in agony. He let out another low cry, his eyes squeezed shut.
Robert immediately came towards them as they stepped through. "Severus, thank you for coming." He held out his hand. Severus placed several vials into his palm, a strange look on his face.
"How is he?" he asked, hating the slight tremble in his voice. The past two weeks or so had been hell for him, not that he would ever admit it, even to himself. The house had been so empty without Harry around, the halls bereft of music in the evenings and Tibby's chatter in the mornings. Severus had spent more nights worried about the younger man than sleeping; hence his gaunt appearance.
During one of those lonely nights, he had acknowledge that he just might feel more for Harry than he had thought possible. The word love crossed his mind, and this time, he didn't immediately push it away. Instead, he left it there, lingering in his thoughts. He wasn't ready to completely admit to the feeling. After all, what did he know of love, anyway? He had never really experienced it, whether giving or receiving. His mother had tried to show him loving care, but she was a weak minded woman, easily cowed by his overly domineering father. His friendship with Lily he had once mistaken for love, but soon understood it for what it was. Disaster had followed shortly thereafter.
After that, he simply had given up, pushing any and all emotions remotely warm and fuzzy far away, and building a wall so high and thick he was sure nothing would get through.
Nothing had, until Harry. Now, as he watched the pale young man, and the miracle of life transpiring right before his very eyes, he had no choice but to admit that this was what he had been searching for all along. A family, someone to love and protect. He had chalked such emotions up as Gryffindor, unbecoming of a Slytherlin. Now he realized they were simply human, the basest of human needs.
The wail of a newborn babe sounded in the room, stealing his breath. He stepped forward and saw one of the most beautiful sights. Covered in blood, her face and skin red, Harry's daughter took her first breaths of life. Her head was covered with the palest of down, almost white in color. Thought her eyes were screwed shut, he remembered Harry speaking of sea foam green, and was sure they would be such. She waved her little fists around frantically as the medi-nurse took her from Robert's skillful hands.
Severus tracked her progress, his eyes glued to her tiny form. He watched as she was cleaned up, her skin paling as the blood was washed away. The flow of voices moved around him, but he heard none of it. Mesmerized, he saw the nurse cast a scanning spell over her. He took a step forward.
A warning bell sounded suddenly, shattering the tiny bit of peace they had all shared. Severus' eyes snapped back to Harry as Hermione cried out. Harry's body, which had been laying still on the bed, began to buck, arching off the bed in a horribly sharp arc. His mouth and eyes flung wide open, a scream ripping from his throat.
Robert pressed his hands down on Harry's shoulders, trying to minimize the thrashing. Harry's arms flailed about, striking at everything and nothing as the air in the room began to heat up drastically.
"What is happening?" Severus yelled over the rushing noise that now filled the room.
Robert spared him a panicked glance. "His magic. It's out of control. Best I can guess, it was wrapped around the baby in a protective cocoon, and now that she's not there, it is trying to locate her."
Severus stepped up close, laying his hand on Harry's burning hot head, stroking his fingers over the skin even as it scorched his finger tips. "What do we do?"
Robert shook his head. "I don't know," he replied grimly.
Hermione had taken Harry's hand as it tried to claw the newly closed skin. "Bring the baby here," she commanded, a fierce look in her eyes. Severus thought she looked like a goddess of vengeance like that, blood coating her hands and the front part of her shirt. Her hair was frizzing out, her eyes flashing.
The two men shared a look, before Robert called over his shoulder for the baby. The nurse came forward slowly, pushing against the great heat caused by Harry's innate wild magic. Her skin cracked under the pressure and she made a small sound of distress. Severus took Harry's daughter from her, laying the baby on the man's chest.
As quickly as it started, all the heat left the room, the air suddenly much lighter. Harry's body settled down, a fine sheen of sweat covering his exposed torso. The baby made a little squawk, opening her sea foam green eyes. Harry opened his, a sigh leaving his lips. He shared a look with his daughter, then smiled.
"Welcome to the world, Ellie Aurora," he whispered happily. He took a chance and looked at Severus. The man's eyes were dark with a deep emotion, and Harry knew he had made the right choice. With another sigh, his eyes rolled back into his head as the linger pain and exhaustion overwhelmed him once again.
A/N2: Baby's here! I am delighted to present her to you. Kudos if you can guess the reasons behind her name. And yay for Sev! He has a heart! Just don't expect him to get all gushy on us. These two have a long road ahead of them yet. Anyway, Thank you all for the amazing support you have shown. There is much more to come.
Also, as my darling readers continue to request more of this story, and as I am so wrapped up in it, I have decided to fore go NaNo this year. Meaning, you will not have to wait an entire month for an update! See, I love you all that much. Hope you enjoy this one, and drop me a line anytime.