Updated 2008 March
Usual Disclaimer and thanks to Camille for her hard work in beta-ing this.
"It can't be. That's just far too inconvenient," Snape grunted as he sat beside Megan, his arms folded across his chest. He was frowning darkly at where Poppy was standing the other side of where Megan was lying on the bed, her hands folded just under her breasts, her stomach exposed.
"Well, I'm sorry, Severus, but nature doesn't bother with what is convenient or not," Poppy said quietly, her kind eyes fixed on the wand she held over Megan's stomach.
"Are you certain you've got it right. You haven't made a mistake?" he continued grumpily.
Poppy looked up at him, her lips narrowed as she glared at him.
"No, I have not made a mistake. If the dates Megan has given me are correct, then May the fifteenth is when you can expect your baby to arrive."
"Megan?" Snape turned his black eyes on his wife. "Are you certain you have your dates right."
"Yes. Look Severus, what does it matter when it arrives," she said testily.
Megan had had just about enough of him. He had insisted on coming to see Poppy with her. At first Meg had assumed it was delayed paternal feelings kicking in, but it hadn't taken her long to realise that he merely wanted to find out when it would arrive; and it now seemed that this news didn't please him either.
"May is just before all the exams are taken. Have you any idea how much time is required at that time of year? I won't be able to spare any time at all!"
Meg glared at him and, sitting up swiftly, she dislodged Poppy's wand, but she paid no attention to Poppy's outburst to lay still.
"Severus, sometimes I could quite cheerfully strangle you," she spat at him. "Are you trying to say to me that those blasted exams come before the baby and me?"
"No, of course not," he muttered; his face tightened and his lips thinned as he clamped them together.
"Well, unfortunately life very rarely goes to plan, you just have to take what comes with the best of spirits," Poppy said as she gently eased Meg back down and began scanning again.
"I was just remarking on how inconvenient it would be that's all," he stated darkly.
"Well, I can't change things," Poppy said softly. "This baby is definitely a girl." She stood back with a satisfied look on her face.
"And she's okay?" asked Meg quietly, her eyes back on Poppy now, pointedly ignoring Snape who was still glowering at them both.
"Perfectly, asleep again, judging by the heart rate, but perfectly well."
Meg smiled as she tucked her shirt back down over her stomach and sat up.
"I feel better knowing that." She ignored Snape, who was sitting very still, his face dark and hard.
"Any ideas as to how you want to give birth?"
"Pardon?"
"Well, I took it upon myself to send for some books…" Poppy turned away and took a pile of brochures and books from the table behind her. "It has been a long time since I attended a birth. Of course, closer to the time, you'll have a Mediwitch Midwife assigned to you, probably in your second trimester," she mused half to herself, "but I'll still be here to help you, I rather liked the look of the water birth or maybe the Aromatherapy…."
"What?" Meg blinked several times; all thoughts of how angry she was with Snape had disappeared.
"A midwife will be assigned to you. She'll be on call so when you actually go into labour she'll be here to attend to you and the baby when it's born," Poppy said, loosing the dreamy expression in her eyes when she spotted Snape's fierce frown.
"Huh?" Meg sank back slightly against the pillows.
"Here, this explains it all a bit more." She handed Meg the books and, grinning, stepped back from the bed. "Such a wonderful experience, seeing new life, and I'm so happy it's happening to you both. You both deserve it!" She folded her hands around her wand, sighed happily, and left the cubicle drawing the curtain back around again.
Meg flicked through the books and found a page that showed the different stages of the baby's growth inside the womb.
"And I called it bug?" came a sarcastic voice from beside her, "it resembles a prehistoric life form."
Meg frowned at the picture of a four-week-old foetus and turned it this way and that.
"This is what she looks like now." Meg pointed to the picture of a baby at 14 weeks.
"Perfectly formed already," he said quietly as he stared at the picture of the baby curled in the womb.
"It says her eyes aren't able to open and her lungs aren't formed, but she looks just like a baby, doesn't she?"
"Yes, it certainly does," he replied and, taking one of the books from the bottom of the pile, flipped it open.
"Oh look, a book of baby names, and look at this, Poppy has a page marked and a name underlined. I wonder how much she's put on this one then," he sneered.
"What did she choose?" asked Meg, idly flicking through the book.
"Tameesha," he snorted. "Sounds like a sneeze. Can you imagine it, Tameesha Snape? People will think she has a constant cold." He looked up as he realised that Meg was no longer listening to him.
"What have you found?"
"Nothing." Meg shut the book with a slam and sat up, her face white as a sheet. "I feel sick again," she whispered and slid off the bed.
"But you haven't eaten anything," he said, gathering the books together to hurriedly stand and follow her out of the cubicle.
"I need some fresh air, that's all," she replied and wiped her hand across her face. "I might even lie down till tea, if you don't mind."
Snape stared at her in concern.
"Do you want me to take you back?"
"No, you have that meeting with the Hillary about the match on Saturday."
"I can cancel it."
She looked up at him and a wave of irritation and anger flooded through her.
"If you were that bothered about the baby arriving in May, I doubt very much that you would cancel a meeting about this precious school's Quidditch game. Especially when it might mean your house getting the bloody cup again," she spat and, turning, stomped away down the corridor.
He caught up with her as she reached the top of the stairs. He began walking down the stairs beside her.
"It will be difficult to arrange things in May, that was all I meant," he said coldly.
Meg snorted and just resisted throwing him down the stairs.
"If you want something badly enough, or you care about something strongly enough, nothing is impossible, Severus," she said tightly, her heart constricting: she felt so very close to tears.
"You know how much I care for you, so don't even dare to try and fling that at me," he said angrily. "And you know damn well I will not discuss things in the corridor. Let me walk you back to our rooms, and tonight we will sit down calmly and discuss this like adults."
"There is nothing to discuss, Severus. The baby will arrive when it arrives, despite what you do or do not want. Live with it." She turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs and saw Remus and Sirius talking by the door to the staff room.
She didn't even look back as she crossed over to them, knowing full well that Snape wouldn't willingly walk within fifty yards of Sirius if he could avoid it.
"Megan!" Sirius beamed at her, his eyes flicking over her shoulder to where Snape stood watching her with black eyes that were harder than stone.
"Hey!" Meg smiled weakly at both men, her ears straining for sounds from Snape. She heard the swish of his robes as he turned and swept away from them.
"You look as if you need a good cup of tea," Remus said kindly, aware of the strain on Meg's face.
"Please. It's the damn morning sickness." She didn't bother smiling again; just let Remus link his arm through hers as they went in the staff room.
"So, how long are you here for?" asked Meg as the three of them sat at the table, nursing cups of tea.
"Harry has to be back with the team on Tuesday, so we leave tomorrow, which will give him Monday to get his gear from Molly," Sirius said conversationally
Meg nodded and stirred her tea carefully. At the moment she really couldn't care less when Harry left, she just needed to curl in a corner somewhere and cry.
"There will be a lot of sad kids tomorrow," Remus said cheerily.
Sirius laughed and shook his head at Remus.
"I think that Harry will be sad to leave here too."
Meg looked up at Remus and regarded him closely. The new potion seemed to be helping slightly; although, she knew that Snape was still trying to refine it even further in his spare time.
"You're looking better," she said quietly. She had a high regard for Remus and was pleased they had been able to help, even if it hadn't been as much as they would have liked.
"I feel it," he replied. "The headaches aren't nearly as bad as they were. Although, I know that you and Severus have put a lot of hard work into this, and I will be forever grateful."
"Severus does the bulk of it," Meg said. "He's the one who researches and refines. I just stir when I'm told to," she said with the barest hint of irritation in her voice.
"Snape? Snape is helping you?" asked Sirius, he sounded surprised.
"Some of us moved on when we left school, Sirius," Remus said quietly. "Severus has been a good friend to me."
"Severus wouldn't know what friendship was if it bit him on the arse! Whatever did you see in him anyway?" asked Sirius looking at a white faced Meg. "You can't tell me that it's his good looks or his warm sunny manners," he snorted.
"He's not the boy you knew," Remus remarked carefully. "Although, having said that, I don't think we ever took the time to find out what kind of boy he was either."
"He never let us."
"We never tried," corrected Remus. "But, that is all in the past. That was then and this is now."
"Here, here." Meg picked up her cup and chinked it against Remus's. She set it down and stood up. "I really need to go and sort some stuff out. I'll see you all tonight in the hall?" She couldn't stand to be here anymore. She needed to get away.
"Yes, you can imagine what kind of feast Albus has laid on for Harry's last night," laughed Remus, his kind eyes watching Meg carefully.
"Albus is a man with his heart in the right place… food always comes first." Meg winked at them and with a heart heavier than her exterior showed, she left the room to find some peace and quiet.
Meg closed the book up and groaned aloud.
"I can't do this. I can't do it," she wailed into the silence. She threw the book across the empty room and pulling her knees up she rested her head on her knees and let the tears fall.
The pictures in the book that Poppy had given her had finally rammed home the truth that one day, and not too far in the future, the baby growing inside her was going to come out, whether she liked it or not.
She hadn't thought about the actual childbirth itself. She had only ever imagined herself sitting on a rocking chair in their rooms with a tiny baby wrapped in a pure white shawl snuggled in her arms as she sang to it.
She most certainly hadn't imagined herself experiencing the amount of pain those women had to have felt. It just hadn't entered her mind. But now it had, and now she was most certainly sure it would never leave her mind.
Meg rocked back and forth slightly wishing with all her heart that her mother was with her, to stroke her hair like she used to and to tell her it was all going to be alright.
She had never felt so alone and so lonely.
Up until now she had to admit the thought of having a baby hadn't really been real. She hadn't truly comprehended the enormity of being a parent. In fact, she realised she had been residing in a very nicely coloured bubble which had just been burst. Everything came crushing down around her as she realised just how much things were going to change. Not only for her, but for Severus too, and she had no doubt that he too had no idea what was about to hit them.
Senga and Hannah were standing by the open window looking over the grounds.
Hannah was talking nineteen to the dozen about a film her brother had owled her to say he would take her to see when she went home for the holidays.
Snape stopped behind them and spoke quietly and deeply, "Miss Malfoy, if you would please come with me."
It gave him a little satisfaction seeing Hannah jump as he spoke, but Senga merely turned her head and looked up at him, her face expressionless.
He raised one eyebrow when she failed to move.
"Today, Miss Malfoy."
She looked at Hannah and, with a quick smile, she moved to face Snape.
"Sir?"
"Follow me, Miss Malfoy," he intoned darkly and, turning, swept away leaving Senga to follow him.
She followed him into a classroom close by and waited by the door as he crossed to stand beside the desk.
"Sit down." He pointed to the first desk and indicated her to sit. As she crossed she heard him utter a silencing spell on the closed door.
"Professor Snape," she said quietly, her small face completely expressionless as she regarded him through brown eyes.
"I have to say that both your aunt and I found this book to be highly interesting." He let the small book he had taken from her fall onto her desk.
He watched the tiny flicker of fear pass over her face.
"Any particular ideas you will be using on your chambers here?" he asked and stood directly in front of her desk, his arms folded and his sneer in place.
"No." She shook her head but made no move to reach for the book.
"Senga." He let his arms drop as he moved to the side and dragged a stool to sit in front of her. He crossed his arms on the desk and leaned forward to see her face better, "I'm aware of what the book truly holds."
Senga's head shot straight up as she stared at him; fear definitely flickered in her eyes now.
"Are you aware of the penalty for having books such as this in your possession?" he asked quietly, his face giving nothing away.
"Yes," she nodded.
"I'm also aware this is the book your mother sent you." He sat back slightly now that she was looking at him.
"Yes, my birthday present," she said, and he didn't miss the bitterness in her voice.
"It isn't to your liking then?" he asked, his voice soft and deep.
Senga drew in a breath and blinked several times.
"I tried to burn it," she said quietly, "in Mr Longbottom's bonfire, but it wouldn't burn."
"It's protected by the highest of Black Magic. It is extremely difficult to destroy," he said and frowned at her. "Did you read any of it?"
"A bit…" she said quietly.
"I want you to be aware of something, Senga. What this book contains is not the path I hope that you will choose."
"I don't…. will you tell mother?" she finally asked, screwing up all her courage.
"Tell her what?" he frowned.
"That I tried to burn it."
He sighed and sat back completely, folding his arms across his chest again.
"Senga, I will tell your mother nothing."
"She wouldn't be happy." She sat straight back in her chair, her eyes pinned to his.
"She will not find out," he said quietly. "I had hoped…" he stopped and regarded her with a closed expression on his face.
"I don't want to be like my mother. I don't know what I want to do, but I do know that I don't want… that." Her words came out rushed and jumpy. She couldn't quite meet his eyes, too afraid as to what she may see in them.
"I don't want you to be like her either. I made a promise to myself when you arrived here that I would make sure you were protected," he said softly.
Senga blinked, the muscles in her face were beginning to ache from the tension.
"I didn't think… I thought you… things weren't as I expected them to be… here." She finally raised her eyes to his, but there was none of the anger she had assumed she would see. If anything, his eyes held nothing but her own reflection; but the sneer was gone from his lips and that alone eased her slightly.
"You mean me," he replied. He resisted the urge to get up and walk away. It was getting personal. It was getting onto territory that he felt uncomfortable with. Loving and admitting his love to Megan was one thing, talking to this child was another.
"Well, you were always so different in your letters. I knew that if I asked a question, you would answer it…" she trailed off, but she couldn't drag her eyes away from his.
Snape drew in a deep breath and let it go silently.
"I have been somewhat remiss in my dealing with you," he said quietly. "I will try not to be in the future. If you have any questions, feel free to talk to me."
"I do…. I will," she amended herself quickly, her hands unclenched as she brought them up to touch the book still lying on the desk.
"I do not wish to keep this," she said and pushed it towards him; a relief so great filled her that she physically sagged and the tension left her completely.
"You will never know quite how relieved I am to hear that," he whispered and took the book from the table.
He looked back at her and the frown deepened between his eyes.
"Was it so very hard at home?"
"No." She shook her head, "Most of the time it's quite easy staying away from them actually. Mother spends a lot of her time either visiting or being visited, in which case we have to be very much out of sight. And Father, well I'm not certain what Father does, but he goes out at seven in the morning and doesn't get back till five in the afternoon." She spoke easily, her voice blank of any emotion.
Snape frowned deeper.
"Your mother was responsible for your education though, was she not?" he probed further, intent on seeing just what things had been like for her.
"Well, she choose the tutors and obviously she choose Nanny."
"Nanny?" His eyebrows rose.
"Nanny, our Nanny. I'm too old for one now, but she still looks after Damien," she said quietly.
"And do you like her?"
"No, she's a mean old bitch," she said bitterly, but the moment the words left her mouth she regretted her outburst.
Snape's eye's narrowed as he looked at her, but he refrained from pulling her up over her language. He had her on a track he was most interested in, and he had no intentions of stopping her now.
"Is it true that I'll be staying here for Christmas, and then going home with you for the summer holidays?"
The sudden change in track almost threw Snape, but his face showed nothing of his emotions. He realised she had deliberately steered the conversation from her home life and for the time he was willing to let it pass. He had plenty of time to weed it out of her later.
"Yes, I have already arranged things with your parents. You will be of help to your aunt when the baby arrives."
Senga blinked a few times and a tiny smile curved her lips.
"You would let me help?" She tried to keep the hope from her voice, but he picked up on it easily. It hadn't taken him long to realise that Senga was as easy to read as Megan was, if you knew what to look for and how to read the signs.
"Of course, in fact, I believe that your aunt is banking on your help. I believe that she will be very tired for some time to come after the birth." His frown deepened as he remembered the cold silence that had greeted him last night when he had gone back to their rooms after missing her at tea. She had been in bed already, lying on her side with her eyes tightly shut, although he had known she was far from sleep. Pride and anger at her had made him ignore her and stay in the study until late into the night.
"I would be glad to help anyway I could. Although, I have to say I haven't been around many babies." She frowned slightly. "Actually, I haven't been around any babies," she admitted.
"I don't expect that will cause many problems. How hard can one small infant be?" he said deeply, a touch of arrogance colouring his voice.
"Mother said we were unbearable and that was why she had to employ Nanny," Senga replied and looked back down at the book on the table under his hands.
Snape raised his eyebrows and refrained from telling her that anything that put Odile out of joint was unbearable, whether it be a small baby or a broken finger nail.
"Well, I'm quite sure you will adjust quite quickly to the baby."
"Is it going to be a girl or a boy?" she asked him, and once again he saw the sly look flicker in her eyes.
"Why do you ask?" he replied
"Oh, no reason," she said carefully, "just interested."
"I hope that you don't plan on using some of your allowance on predicting the baby's sex," he said darkly.
Senga blushed and shrugged before the blank look she was so good at settled over her face.
"Not at all, Uncle," she said, and he detected the mock innocence immediately.
His eyes narrowed as he sneered down at her.
"Uncle?" he said as one black eyebrow rose.
Senga was unable to hide the momentary hurt flicker across her face.
"In private you can call me Uncle," he said and was aware it sounded slightly condescending but he really didn't care, "but in public always Professor or Sir, understand?"
"Perfectly," she said and then slyly added, "Uncle."
He didn't smile back, but his face softened slightly. He had no idea that she was going to be so like himself at that age.
Sometimes he could almost see the way he had been: the same inability to settle and make friends, the same arrogance that he still carried with him. The only difference and, for this alone he had to admire her, was the difference in their reaction to the Dark Arts.
He had been seduced easily, willing. He had embraced it with all his being; if he was honest, it still ran through his veins like poison. Not that he would ever return to the way he had been, but the call of power the Dark Arts gave you was something that he would always have to live with. But the knowledge of what that power had done would burn in him forever.
Senga didn't appear to respond to that call. He had to make sure she was not only being honest but that it stayed that way.
He would do anything required, no matter how hard, and he had to admit that talking to her was hard. Harder than anything he'd done before.
Snape saw her look back down at the book, and a nervous look passed through her eyes. He decided to be honest with her.
"Although I have the ability to destroy this book if I so choose, your mother would know instantly and that is something we do not want. It will remain with me where it will be safe. Please do not try to find it."
"Why would I want to do that?" she asked, frowning up at him.
He narrowed his eyes at her and then looked down at where the innocent looking book lay. He picked it up and slid it inside his robes.
"Just don't try to find it," he replied and stood up in one fluid movement. "Your friend is hovering anxiously outside. Obviously she fears I may be hexing you in here. Please go and put her mind to rest."
Senga looked up at him in surprise.
"How do you know she's out there?"
"I haven't been teaching this long to not discover certain things about friends."
Senga blinked and frowned as his words struck a cord in her.
"My friend is outside," she whispered, and she realised with mixed feelings this was the first time she could ever recall having a friend.
"Hannah Jones seems to be an incredibly annoying child. You should both fit well together," he said dryly, his usual sarcastic sneer falling easily into place.
Senga stood up and looked at him carefully before a small smile curved her lips.
"Yes sir," she said and crossed to the door and slipped out, closing it behind her.
Meg sat with her knees hugged to her chest. She was cold but she couldn't be bothered to cast a charm. She was watching the sun set over the lake. It was so peaceful, so beautiful, and so serene.
"Sickle for them?" came a soft voice as Remus plopped down beside her. He sat with his legs Indian style and uttered a warming charm that covered them both.
"Thanks; they aren't really worth that much." She smiled softly, not taking her eyes from the fiery red sky over the lake.
"Okay, how about I hear them for free then," he volunteered.
"I was just watching the sun set. It's so peaceful out here."
"And I've just broken your peace, I'm sorry." He moved to stand up, but she caught his arm and shook her head.
"No, please stay. I didn't mean it like that."
"Funny thing sunsets," he mused quietly, his eyes half shut against the last glare from the sun. "It's the end of a day, but it holds so much beauty. I have always preferred watching the sun go down than the sun rise in the morning."
Meg laughed softly and shook her head
"I have to admit that I don't often see the sun rise. I'm usually still inspecting the inside of my eyelids!"
He laughed and picked a blade of grass. He slid it through his fingers and they fell silent as the sun dipped down below the trees and out of sight.
"There," Meg nodded, "the end of a terrible day."
"Still feeling bad?" He lifted his knees and rested his hands on them, his gaze now on her in the dying light.
"Oh, y'know," she shrugged.
"No, afraid on that one I don't and never will." He smiled, "I remember my sister complaining of morning sickness a lot. I think it eased in time."
"It's already much better actually. Almost gone really; it only returns if I make a complete pig of myself, which Severus tells me is all the time."
"Well, he can't deny you're eating for two now!"
"That worked so well until Poppy misguidedly informed him that 'eating for two' is a myth!"
"You're joking," he laughed.
"'Fraid not! All I have to up is my calcium and other vitamins and that's it. I was so disappointed when he got that look, y'know the one I mean, the 'You can't fool me, I know far more than you' look."
Remus pulled a face and nodded in agreement.
"Yes, I know the one. Infuriating isn't it?"
"Completely; Poppy also told him that for the first sixteen weeks I have to take a Folic supplement or something, he actually stands there and watches me take it. Won't leave me be till he sees me swallow the thing."
"He loves you," Remus stated simply.
Meg sighed and nodded slowly.
"Yes he does. I just wish…" She stopped and bit her lip.
"You do know anything you say to me will never go any further," he said quietly.
"I know." She looked at him and smiled. "You're a good friend, Remus."
"I'll try to help in anyway I can," he said seriously. "You both deserve to be happy, and while Severus has… hidden qualities, I know he isn't always the easiest of people to get along with."
"I don't want to betray him."
"By talking through the way you feel?"
"Yes."
"It's not betrayal, Meg. Talking can sometimes clear your head. I find that if I can talk aloud, actually say the words out loud, it doesn't seem as tangled as it did before I talked about it. Things that are left to bottle up always get worse and worse."
"It's just I feel so…" she stopped and blushed as tears came into her eyes, "alone, I guess."
He stayed quiet, his eyes kind as he watched her.
"I mean… I really, really miss my mother." She looked out over the darkening lake and forced her tears down. "I've always missed her, but recently… Severus has no idea. He truly has no idea what's going to happen to us. I have no idea, but at least I'm semi-conscious of the major changes ahead. I've heard of women wanting their mothers when they get pregnant, but I hadn't realised exactly what that meant. I'm not sure I can go through with it, actually having the baby. It scares me stupid and I really, really want to hear her telling me it's going to be okay." She shook her head, frowning darkly.
"But that's not all that scares me." She looked at Remus, her eyes clouded with worry and fear. "It scares me that he's going to realise that having a family isn't a nine to five job. It scares me that he may not stick around. It scares me that in a few months there will be another person in our lives, someone totally dependent on us, on me. It scares me to think that if Severus can't hack it I'm going to be alone; completely alone."
"It all comes round to the same thing, doesn't it? Whether or not Severus is going to stay with you. Have you said anything to him at all about this?" Remus asked softly.
"When we first found out he took it remarkably well, so well in fact that I honestly thought he was ill. I half expected him to rampage around the room, yelling at me for being so damn silly in the first place, but he didn't. He did tell me that he didn't want the baby though." She closed her eyes. "He said he would try to be a good father. I tried to convince him at the time he'd be a good father if he tried, but I think I was trying to convince myself as well. It sounds horrible doesn't it, doubting your own husband."
"No, just because you love him and you're his wife doesn't mean he's perfect. Neither does it mean that you're blind to his faults. You recognise that both of you have a lot of changing to do, that can only be a positive thing. It would be far worse for you both if neither of you realised it."
"But he has said he doesn't want the baby. He said that while he would never leave us, he just doesn't want her either. How can it work both ways? It can't surely."
"He hasn't seen her yet. She hasn't had time to work her own magic on him. I don't suppose Severus has actually had much to do with babies. They have a funny way of creeping into your heart and staking up residence there. I've only ever held my niece and nephew and both were only a few hours old when I first held them, but the moment I held them I knew."
"What did you know?" she asked him quietly.
"That everything that ever mattered, or ever would matter, lay wrapped in a shawl in my arms, and that I would give my life for them."
Meg sighed and laid her head on her knees to look at him sideways.
"But will that hold true at three in the morning when she's screaming for a feed and there's a hundred dirty nappies everywhere?"
"Nothing lasts forever, Meg, not even sleepless nights," he smiled.
"Are you so sure?"
"Positive. My nephew is nine now and if he had his way, he would sleep all day and all night." He grinned. "But it's really true when you hear people say 'It's different with your own.' My niece and nephew may not be my own children, but they are close as I'll get and I can vouch that it's true. When it's your flesh and blood, it really is different."
"I hope you're right." She smiled. Meg was no clearer in her mind, only time would answer her questions and fears, but talking certainly did help to lift things slightly. "And you do realise you have just offered your services as Babysitter."
"I have?" Remus looked mockingly alarmed. "Now hold on there, I never inferred that!"
"Too late." She smiled and sat up straight. She looked out over the now dark lake and sighed heavily.
"Talk to Severus, Meg. Tell him how scared you are, he can't understand if you don't tell him."
"No, I suppose not," she replied. She knew he was right, knew that she needed to sit down and talk things through with him. There were so many things that they would have to start working out besides what she had told Remus, and the only way to do that was to talk to him.
Meg lay looking up at the ceiling, her eyes fixed on the dancing patterns the candle flames cast.
She could hear Snape sitting at his desk in the other room, his quill scratching across the paper. She could hear his frequent curses as he marked the scrolls in front of him.
She sat up and slid her arms into the sleeves of his dressing gown. It was miles too long for her and dragged across the floor as she walked towards the doorway, but it smelled of him and it was soft and comforting.
"Severus?"
"Hum?"
"Can I talk to you?"
"Yes." He didn't look up from the scrolls, but she saw his quill pause in mid air.
"I think we need to talk," she said softly, her voice quavering slightly as she walked to perch on the edge of the chair by the fire.
He placed his quill in its stand and replaced the lid on his ink pot. He scraped his chair back across the floor and turned to face her, crossing his legs as he steepled his fingers under his chin. His black eyes shone with the dancing firelight.
She sat there, her eyes fixed on a point between her bare feet on the rug. He made no move to come across to the other chair, nor did he say anything, he just sat there and watched her.
Meg shivered with cold despite the heat from the fire. She drew her legs under her and wrapped herself firmly in his dressing gown.
She frowned and took the dressing gown tie in one hand and began to plait it together with the other tie.
"Are we going to be talking tonight, or do you wish for me to allocate a couple of hours in the near future?" he broke the silence with a frosty voice.
Meg snapped and jumped to her feet, her eyes blazing at him. That was the last thing she needed to hear.
"Allocate yourself to hell for all I care," she spat. "I should have known better than to expect a little help from you!" She rushed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She made it as far as the bed when the door was slammed opened, banging back on its hinges to hit the wall with a bang.
She jumped, turning to see him coming towards her, his eyes blazing with fury and his face dark and angry.
He stopped inches from her and bent his face close to hers, making her look up and back up sharply. Her legs connected with the bed and her knees gave out as she sat down heavily.
He advanced closer and bent over her, his eyes pinning hers.
"Don't talk to me like that," he hissed coldly. "You were the one who came in declaring we had to talk. I was merely interested as to which century this talk would be taking place in."
"There you go again," she cried out. "All sarcastic and nasty. Sometimes talking to you resembles conversing with a barrel of caustic soda."
He narrowed his eyes and stood back to look down at her.
"What did you wish to talk about?" He folded his arms.
"Oh my, now let me guess. What on earth would we have to talk about?" she spat sarcastically.
"Now who's being sarcastic?" he growled. "If you can't take it, don't give it out!"
"Well, it makes no difference now anyway. I've changed my mind; I don't want to talk anymore anyway!" She stood up as best she could with him looming over her and, moving past him, headed towards the bathroom.
"Megan." Her name was low, soft and extremely dangerous.
"I'm going to have a bath," she said clearly, ignoring his tone of voice as she went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
She got as far as the sink this time before the door was opened and he came in.
"Don't play games with me, Megan," he warned. "You wanted to talk, so talk."
"I told you, I changed my mind. If and when we do sit down and talk about things, it's going to have to be when we're both in a better mood. It was my fault; I shouldn't have stopped you marking. Marking always makes you foul tempered."
He didn't say anything, just crossed to the bath and began to run the taps.
Meg watched him in the mirror, but he didn't say anything as he waited for the water to fill and then he switched off the taps again. He stood up straight and looked across at her before turning to leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Meg sagged forward onto the sink and let the tears flow. She had messed that up well and truly. After living with him for so long she should be used to his sarcasm; most of the time she knew he wasn't even aware he was doing it, it was so second nature to him, it didn't always register. But it had stung her tonight. She had needed him to help her and he had stung her with sarcasm.
She slid out of his dressing gown and her t-shirt and slid into the water.
She rested her head back and lay there with her eyes shut, the tears drying on her face.
The water was almost cold when he opened the door and went in. He looked at where Meg was lying, her eyes still closed; the tear tracks evident on her cheeks. At first he thought she was asleep, and he stepped forward quickly, annoyed she had been foolish enough to fall asleep in the bath. But she opened her eyes as he stopped by the edge, and he saw she hadn't been asleep at all, just lying with her eyes closed.
"It must be cold by now," he remarked, his voice blank from feeling or emotion.
"It is," she replied quietly and closed her eyes again.
"Don't shut me out," he said softly and hunched down beside her till he was on eye level with her.
She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him.
"What are we going to do, Severus?" she whispered.
He rested his arms along the bath edge and rested his chin on his arms, his hair swept forward, obscuring the sides of his face.
"Why don't we start again?" he suggested softly. "Stand up." He knew that wasn't what she had meant, but it seemed the only answer he could give her was to misunderstand her words.
He stood back from her and reached for a towel as she stood up. He wrapped it around her and lifted her clear of the tub and into his arms.
"I can walk, y'know."
"Keep quiet. Take advantage of this, if those books are correct, I won't be able to do this soon," he smirked at her dryly.
"Thanks for reminding me," she growled and slid her arms around his neck as he took her into the bedroom.
"You're welcome."
He sat down on the bed, keeping her in his arms. He looked down at her face and frowned in concentration.
"You have changed. It's very subtle, but you do indeed 'glow.' I believe that is the correct term anyway."
"I'm glowing? Or did you mean glowering," she replied, unable to keep the smile from her lips.
He raised one eyebrow at her, not bothering to reply to her comment.
"I believe you wanted to talk to me earlier. Where did you want to start?"
"I don't know," she sighed, her smile disappeared as once again her heart felt heavy.
"How about what you will do when the baby is born. I spoke to Senga this afternoon, and she knows now that she is to stay with us, but it made me think about what we will do."
"I don't really want to leave here, but I don't suppose there'll be a choice."
"Why not?" he asked simply. "It would be no great task obtaining a place in Hogsmede; in fact, Hillary was telling me about some places that are being sold on the outskirts. I believe Hillary and Jack are looking to buy one."
"Hogsmede? Would I continue to teach?"
"Would you want to? I understand there are people who can be employed to sit with the baby during your lesson times."
"Babysitters," Meg said absently, "I don't know. I don't think I want to give up teaching… but… I don't know."
"Well, that is quite a while in the future; perhaps it would be best to leave that till after the baby is born. Your feelings could change drastically at any point. No need to commit yourself now."
"No, I suppose not, but I do like the idea of buying a place in Hogsmede. Would you be alright there? It wouldn't exactly be like the Manor in Wales," she said; lifting her finger, she stroked it down his cheek, her eyes on her finger.
"It would be adequate," he nodded. "I am only interested in your comfort. I realise you do not like using Portkeys or your broomstick, so the manor in Wales is out of the question."
"There are other modes of transport, Severus," she said softly.
"Indeed there are, ones which take three times as long and are, quite often, extremely dangerous. I do not like the idea of you using Muggle transport."
"How on earth do you think I survived nearly twenty five years without you?"
"I have no idea. A miracle I'm sure," he snorted dryly.
"Hum," Meg pulled a face at him and shook her head, "I think not; besides what could be more dangerous than clinging to a broomstick, several hundred feet from the floor and no safety net.""
"Safety net?" he frowned and then shook his head. "Well anyway, before this degenerates into a slinging match, I think we can agree on obtaining somewhere in Hogsmede. I will see to it this weekend."
"I'm coming too," she said hastily and just managed to keep the towel up over her as she sat up in his arms quickly.
"Is there really any need for us both to go?" he asked frowning.
"Severus! Of course there is. How can you even think otherwise; I have to make sure the place is suitable. What the garden is like… will it need decorating. What the kitchen is like."
"Oh, of course, I keep forgetting you're a woman," he said matter-of-factly.
"I beg your pardon?" Meg sat up straighter and glared at him. "What do you mean you keep forgetting I'm a woman?"
"Now, don't get out of hand. I was merely saying that sometimes I forget you have these strange quirks peculiar to women, such as colour co-ordinating curtains with the wallpaper and so on."
"I really think you should be quiet, Severus," she demanded. "There is nothing peculiar about wanting a place to be a home."
"Quite," he sneered at her. "We will both go Saturday morning."
Meg, feeling decidedly disgruntled, slid from his lap to cross to the chest of drawers to get out a clean night-shirt.
"Now I have upset you again," he sighed and stood up to undo his waistcoat.
"Well, what do you expect when you tell me that you forget I'm a woman," she snapped and let the towel drop to the floor to slide the shirt over her head.
"You mistook my words," he said softly and from right behind her. She turned sharply and almost collided with his now bare chest.
"Really?" she demanded, glaring up at him.
He reached out one hand and, sliding his finger inside the edge of her night-shirt, he pushed one sleeve down to bare her shoulder. His eyes followed his finger as he continued down her arm and then back up again to stroke across her breastbone to slide the sleeve down her other arm.
"How can I forget when you are the most breathtakingly beautiful woman I have ever seen?" he spoke quietly, his eyes resting on her lips and then moving up to look into her eyes.
"You smooth talker," she sighed, melting under his gaze. She raised her fingers to brush their tips across his lips.
"Truth teller," he replied and kissed her finger tips as he leant forward. He captured her fingers in one hand and drew them to his neck as he leant closer to her lips. His other hand trailed across her bare shoulder, trailing fire on her skin.
"You can't wiggle out of it…." He pressed his mouth to hers, cutting off any further words. His kiss deepened as she gave into him, her arms going around his neck to cling to him. He caught her up and crossed back to the bed, his lips never leaving hers.
Meg sighed into his mouth and decided that she would show him just how much of a woman she really was. Maybe he wouldn't forget again.
A/N: Well, I had a simply great time with my brother and his wife. Their little boy is just gorgeous. He was a bit of a surprise to them as their youngest is six this year and their oldest is ten this year. But he's adorable and has two mothers and two fathers as the both my niece and nephew dote on him. He only has to cry and they're at his side peering anxiously over saying "can we hold him mum?" He's definitely going to be spoilt rotten. He was only four weeks old when I saw him and it's got me so broody!!!
Anyway….
Thanks for being so patient for me. I just hope the wait was worth while!
Thanks to everyone who has very kindly left such lovely reviews. It really makes my day to see them.
Odile's Book of Shadows is actually borrowed from Witches in general. They use a Book of Shadows which is where they record any ingredients or items that they use in their general craft. Also I believe it is used for to record crystals and other such things that have healing properties. I found out quite a lot of this when I did some research on Witchcraft in general. So I thought I ought to make it very clear here that I was not trying to be offensive to Witches who use Books of Shadows as they are not actually intended to harm other people at all. Odile is a nasty type who in fiction uses Magic in ways which (obviously) isn't real. Inspiration was vacant when choosing a name for the book that Odile gave to Senga so I stuck to the true book which witches in general use. I just hope that I don't upset anyone.
A few have asked if I have this all worked out as it has changed so much. I have to admit to not having a guideline to follow. I know what will happen in the end and all the general details, but how the characters reach that end just kind of happens. I tend to sit at my keyboard and type, which is why a lot of it is absolute rubbish! My imagination just gets carried away sometimes and before I know it I've written ten pages (of which, without the usual waffle, could probably fit onto four pages!)
Anyway onto more important things:
A lot of you have just either sat exams or are sitting them. I really hope you do well. I'm thinking of you!
And a lot of you are just starting holidays…have loads of fun!
And some of you are going back to Uni and School…. I hope everything goes well for you.
And of course some of you are still slogging it out at work. I hope you enjoy what you do. ( and there's always the pay packet at the end of the month (which never goes far enough) to think about.
Thanks to everyone who reads this and I hope you all have a great day.
P.S. Lunarmouse, I would love to know more about that book by Nora Roberts, thanks. I appreciate you doing this for me.
If I have forgotten anything or anyone, please forgive me and put it down to old age.