Chapter 7-Falling down

I sat calmly waiting for him to make a move. After Snape had agreed, he had sat down heavily in his desk chair and dropped his head into his hands. That had been ten minutes ago and there was still no sign of him recovering. I supposed it was a huge shock. Finding out that Draco had kept such a big secret from him couldn't have been a fantastic feeling. Discovering that your future is now irrevocably tied to the one student you wanted to see the back of as quickly as possible must also be weighing on his mind. I sympathized, I really did, but I was becoming increasingly aware of my bladder.

Eventually to my relief, Snape finally looked up. He looked calm now, and any emotions he was feeling were well hidden from my inexpert eyes.

"What do you want from me?" He softly asked.

"Nothing," I emphasized, "Except for you to be there for him when he needs you."

I did not want him thinking I was looking for money or any favors.

"Be there for him like you were for Draco. I'm looking for someone to love and guide him, not pay for his upbringing. Be someone for him to come to when he's in trouble. I'm due on May 15th, I think."

Snape nodded at this. I was so relieved he understood what I was asking. Then again, it's not exactly a new role for him. If he does half as well raising my child as he did Draco, then I will count myself blessed.

"What do you mean you think?" Snape replied suspiciously, I tried to look confident and not guilty.

"Couldn't Poppy give you an exact date? Or are you simply too incompetent to remember such a simple fact."

The insult was half hearted at best and I understood the reason for it. This was the longest (and only) civil conversation we had ever had and I was feeling as disconcerted as he must be. I was much more concerned with avoiding answering the question. Really I should have gone to Poppy ages ago, if only for my own piece of mind.

Something in my face must have given me away though because Snape suddenly looked bloody furious. His face looked as if it was carved from stone, set in angry, unyielding lines.

"Potter, you imbecile…" He started, in low angry voice. "Do you have any concept of the danger your courting by attempting to undergo a male pregnancy without any antenatal care whatsoever? Perhaps your life means nothing to you, but the life of your unborn child should mean more to you than your own stubborn pride."

As a matter of fact, no I didn't. I had thought it was safe. The heir spell said that the baby would be born alive regardless. I'd been following all the advice I could find in books and keeping as healthy as possible. Apparently I wasn't as well informed as I had thought. What followed was a half hour lecture on all I didn't know about male pregnancies, and as many gruesome stories of what happens when people didn't take the appropriate measures as Snape could fit into the time.

I was a bit shocked at some of the things that could go wrong. Luckily, I had stayed clear of all potions, alcohol and other drugs. I hadn't been anywhere near Stonehenge or other magical hotspots. As for the man that went into labor without a mediwitch, well, lets just say that there's a reason the women usually have the babies. I really could have lived without hearing exploding and a certain anatomical part in the same sentence.

I was a bit sobered to hear the bit about magic. In the second and third trimester of a pregnancy, the "mother" must not exhaust their magic. Due to Draco's magic starting to dissipate over time, more and more of my magic is funneled into the child to maintain the pregnancy. By the time I go into labor, I will essentially be a temporary squib, unable to cast a simple wingardium leviosa. It meant that I could have carried on oblivious and seriously harmed my baby. All I could hear is blood rushing in my ears and the room started spinning.

I woke up to the feel of crisp, cool sheets and the familiar sight of the hospital wing. Well, mostly familiar. The concerned looking Potions Master was new. Usually he would utter some scathing remark about Gryffindors and Potters, assign detention or remove house points and then sweep out majestically. The greasy old bat, I thought fondly.

The concerned look disappear as soon as he noticed I was awake. Madam Pomfrey bustled up to my bed waving her wand and clucking impatiently.

"Honestly, I had hoped that now you're graduated, we might be seeing less of each other. What kind of pickle have you got yourself into this time?"

My vain hope that Snape had told her whilst I was unconscious was squashed. If she had been told, there is no doubt that I would be listening to yet another lecture. I took a deep breath and began to tell my unlikely story to yet another disbelieving audience.

TBC..........

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