He was feeling a bit better these days. The nausea had subsided, and the fatigue had lessened. His appetite had dipped in the past three months, but now he was feeling more hungry, eating more of his crops.

A pot of soup sat on the stove. He stirred it and inhaled the aroma. It looked ready. It smelled good. He hadn't thought he would miss enjoying the scent of food, but he had been easily put off the last three months. Now he felt ready to eat a wider variety and higher quantity of sustenance. After all, he was eating for two, and Potter needed the nutrients.

"It won't do to starve you, after all," he said as he ladled soup into a bowl, before tardily remembering a weak, skeletal Potter on his sofa, telling him about being denied food while picking at his meals. He shook his head at the memory, and poured more soup into his bowl.

Hedwig watched him from her perch as he ate. He'd fashioned a tall perch from discarded branches and antlers, and she seemed to appreciate the gesture.

"It's shameful the way your wizard was treated," he told her between bites. It hit close to home as he recalled his own impoverished childhood with a violent, drunkard father and a mother too broken in spirit to do much to help. "I know there wasn't anything you could do, but someone should have stepped in."

Someone should have noticed something. Said something. Done something. No one had cared about a poor Slytherin boy (when did they ever?), but surely somebody would have taken a closer interest in the welfare of their great Gryffindor hero. His own family hadn't cared a whit, and apparently his teachers and hired friends hadn't cared either. Had everyone been that myopically focused on his saving them from the Dark Lord to the point of utterly dismissing his own needs? He'd only been fourteen. A mere child. Severus was no expert on childcare, yet it seemed backwards to him to expect a child to take care of everyone else while no one took care of him. No wonder the boy had been entirely spent at such a young age.

Severus needed to make sure Potter went to the right family this time. Sometimes he thought he needed to find one with kids already, healthy, well-adjusted kids, so he knew the parents knew what they were doing. On the other hand, there may well be caring couples who simply hadn't been able to have children but would make good parents. He kept debating back and forth, trying to determine what would be best.

He finished his soup and sat back, one hand running over his small, rounded bump. It was definitely straining against his clothes now, especially after his meal.

"How was that, Potter?" If nothing else, he would ensure the boy was safe and well fed while he carried him, a better start to life. "You won't go hungry with me. I promise."

It started raining outside, dimming the house and drenching the windows. Severus remained seated as he digested his meal, watching and listening to the rain pattering against the house. A November rain would make everything damper and slicker in the cold. He would have to mind his footing when he went out again. The last thing he needed was to fall down while he had a cake in the cauldron.

The constant patter of the rain was soothing. Eventually his head began to droop, and he shook himself awake. It wouldn't do to fall asleep in his hard kitchen chair. He made himself get up and round up the dishes to wash. Hedwig had fallen asleep, head tucked under her wing. Severus slowly washed up, still listening to the rain. He liked his quiet life, just him and nature. Too bad Potter had never gotten a moment's peace, either fighting the Dark Lord or just fighting to survive. After he was born, he could enjoy the tranquility and simplicity of life in the country too.

In town. With his new family. Of course.

"It was only a matter of time." There was no denying the facts: his clothes no longer fit over his protruding belly, round with child. Severus took out his loose robes and put them on. The black fabric draped forgivingly over his thickening middle. "Much better."

Hedwig was perched on a bedpost, watching him. He faced her and framed his bump.

"What do you think? Acceptable knocked-up attire?"

She hooted softly, then leaned forward and rubbed her head on his bump.

"Yes, he is growing quickly." He was already five months along, halfway done. He hadn't found pregnancy too awful so far, but he knew there would be other challenges as he got bigger. Yet in another five months at the most, this would be over and he would be handing Potter over to someone else. For some reason, he didn't find that thought as comforting as it should have been. He wasn't sure what he felt, but it wasn't relief.

December brought no festiveness, no decking of the halls. Severus never did anything for Christmas. There was no point since he was alone, and he wasn't the jolly type to make merry anyway. Sometimes he would spike his tea in the wintery evenings with a little something he had stashed away, but that was out this year. He settled for unspiked tea and his usual nibbles.

He went about his usual routines, his cloak tucked tightly around him as he went outside to fetch snow for drinking water or tend to the greenhouse. His basket got filled as he picked what was ripe, but he also picked various specimens and rinsed them off with a quick Aguamenti before taking a bite. Who knew squashes could be so satisfying by themselves? Following it up with some raspberries was even better. Once he got his fill for the time being (or rather when Potter got his fill), he would do the pruning and watering. He was grateful to have his garden to tend to all year, whether it was hot outside or snowing.

There was a light snow on the ground when the 24th came around. Severus had a roaring fire going while he was surrounded by pillows and covered with a blanket in his armchair, Hedwig perched on the back above him. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable (yet), but he was feeling a need to nestle himself in warmth and safety, a need to cocoon himself against the elements outside.

And he was feeling cozy. He sat ensconced in soft warmth while winter chilled everything to ice outside. Ever since moving out here, Christmas was just one more peaceful day out of many. It was neither something to look forward to or dread - it simply was. But this was as close as he ever came to observing the holiday, enjoying his peace. He kept the blankets close and watched the flames in the hearth as he sipped his tea, same as he did every winter. The only difference was that he had company this year: the owl perched above him and the baby lying inside him. He didn't mind, as they were very quiet.

His mind drifted to wondering what Christmas had been like for Potter. He hadn't thought to ask, but there had been more important matters to discuss. It likely hadn't been a very happy holiday for him either. He might have stayed at Hogwarts when he was old enough, away from his relatives. How had those Christmases been? No presents from home to expect, probably. Spending time with friends who were only following orders, assuming they stayed behind too. They must have done a good job convincing him they cared, for their betrayal to blindside him so hard. At least Severus had always known that no one liked him - after losing Lily's friendship - harsh truth as it was, but he'd known the truth. To be led to believe people cared about you only to find out they'd been lying to you for years and you were suddenly alone, that you'd been alone all along, had to be excruciating.

Severus felt fresh anger for how Dumbledore had utterly ruined the boy, and at himself for running away and letting it happen. His hand cupped his belly over the blanket, one thumb rubbing back and forth. He was always going to regret having failed the boy before, but he hoped this fresh start would somehow make up for it. He was doing everything he could to ensure Potter was healthy and safe, and he wouldn't hand him over so easily. To anyone unworthy. Only the perfect family could have him. History was not going to repeat itself if Severus had anything to say about it.

When the flames died down and he couldn't stop yawning, Severus got up from the armchair, wrapping the blanket around himself.

"Come along, girl." Hedwig flew ahead of him as he strolled to a window to let her out for the night. "Get yourself a good dinner."

She hooted and flew out. Severus immediately shut the window to keep the cold air out, and retired to his room. He shivered as he undressed, hurrying to put his nightshirt on. The extra blanket was draped over his bed before he gratefully climbed in and burrowed deep, impatient to feel the toasty warmth again. He fell asleep quickly.

In the morning, his eyes drifted open, and he tugged the blankets closer as he curled into himself. He was definitely toasty now. His gaze fell on the black glasses sitting on the bedside dresser. They'd been set down there ever since the day Potter had been de-aged, and there they still sat, next to the wand. It wasn't as though Potter was going to need them again anytime soon, and it would look strange handing them over along with a baby. He supposed he should just transfigure them into something more useful, but he hadn't gotten around to it yet. Every time he looked at them, he remembered that broken, traumatized boy who had wanted to belong. It wasn't a pleasant reminder, but perhaps a necessary one. Yet while the glasses were a reminder of the boy that was gone for good, his growing belly was a reminder of the boy that was coming back soon.

There was a hard tapping on glass somewhere. Severus rolled out of bed and summoned his dressing gown, tying it as best he could over his protruding bump. Hedwig was waiting at one of the kitchen windows, flying straight to her perch when he let her in.

"I see the night was fruitful for you."

Hedwig had a large mouse in her talons, which she proceeded to swallow. Severus headed to the bathroom and left her to her meal.

His own breakfast was simple, as usual, no feast to commemorate the day. Hedwig slept as he went about the household chores, including when he went outside to tend to the greenhouse.

By that time he was peckish, and he snacked on fruit in between picking and pruning and watering. He made plans for what he wanted for lunch and dinner, and picked accordingly.

After putting the basket of fresh produce in the kitchen, he picked up his other basket for foraging, keeping his cloak on and hood up. There wasn't much to be found during winter, but there was usually something, and he wanted the excuse to go for a walk. Some gentle exercise was beneficial while pregnant.

Many of the animals were hibernating or staying put in their various hideaways, though there were a few birds who chirped here and there on bare branches. The light snow crunched under his feet as he slowly strolled along, taking in the white and brown landscape. Every now and then he knelt as he found something useful for his potions.

His basket held only a few specimens when he returned, but he didn't care. The leisurely walk had been nice. The basket was put in his lab, and he went out again. The firewood needed to be restocked.

He found a dead tree and used slicing spells to cut it up into logs and kindling. Despite using magic to do the job, he needed to catch his breath afterwards. Heavy or prolonged use of magic wore him out faster these days, and he imagined it would only get worse as he got further along. Once he had his breath, he levitated the firewood inside so he wouldn't have to physically lift it, but then he had to lie on the sofa to rest a while. After he woke up, he had lunch.

Hedwig woke up and joined him in his lab as Severus prepared and put away the specimens he'd collected, and brewed a few potions he knew were safe. Whatever toxic ingredients he owned had been set aside untouched ever since he got pregnant, and he would continue to avoid them until after he gave birth. He brewed until it was time for dinner.

Another mundane day eventually came to an end, and Severus was back in the armchair bundled up in front of the fire, Hedwig perched above him. It had been a decent Christmas, uneventful as he preferred it. He wondered if Potter would consider an uneventful Christmas a good one too. Perhaps his old self would have. As baby Potter grew up in a loving home, he would likely enjoy family gatherings and decorations and festive meals and games and presents. Things Severus couldn't give him. At least Potter wouldn't remember this boring Christmas with the boring hermit wizard.

His train of thought was interrupted as he felt something beneath his hands. More and more, he found himself resting his hands on his burgeoning belly, if only for the convenience. But now he thought he felt something stir. He watched and waited for it to happen again.

There it was. It was faint, like a soft fluttering, like someone small was moving around.

It was Potter. He was getting big enough that Severus could feel him move.

His mouth went dry. Technically, he'd known this was coming. He'd known it would be part of the package as Potter grew and developed. Yet the head knowledge hadn't been nearly enough to prepare him for the unique sensation of feeling a little life moving inside him. Something he hadn't thought he would ever get to experience. Watching his belly grow was one thing, but this suddenly made it seem all the more real, not that he'd been in doubt before.

His hands gently stroked his belly. He couldn't stop staring as he felt tiny arms and legs fluttering about. Here was the absolute proof that Harry Potter was still alive and kicking. The Boy Who Lived Twice. But he wasn't the forlorn hero of the wizarding world anymore - he was just a baby in the womb trying out his new limbs, once again unaware of the cruel world outside.

Severus sat there for a long time, focused on what was going on inside him. He almost didn't notice when the fire died out. Hedwig hooted to be let out, and he finally looked up.

"He's moving, Hedwig. Your little wizard is coming along quite well." She hooted softly as he got up.

When he went to bed, he kept stroking his bump, in a surprisingly good mood. It hadn't been such an uneventful Christmas.

Severus grunted and strained, struggling to reach. Putting on his shoes was getting to be quite the exercise. Hedwig hooted from atop the wardrobe.

"Rub it in, why don't you, just because you don't wear shoes and you lay eggs." He finally got one shoe on and sat back on the bed to rest for a minute. His plump belly was making some tasks increasingly difficult. He briefly debated going without footwear, but it was January and winter was in full force. There were still chores to be done outside, and it wouldn't be wise to go barefoot, tempting as it was. Just putting on socks to wear around the house was also quite the effort. He took a deep breath, then leaned down to put his other shoe on. After some minutes of effort, it was on, but he needed another breather.

He automatically ran a hand over his belly as he felt Potter bumping around. "Did I wake you up?" He pushed off the bed with a grunt and went to fetch his cloak. Hedwig followed, landing to perch on his shoulder.

Severus strolled among the crops in the greenhouse, grateful that he'd built raised planters from the beginning so he wouldn't have to kneel in the earth; he was starting to struggle with such basic things, and eventually he wouldn't be able to manage it at all. Anything that was ripe went into the basket, but the peas particularly got his attention. He snapped off a pod and opened it.

"These look ready." He popped the peas in his mouth and confirmed his theory. Fresh peas were the best. He snapped off another pod and ate the contents, then another, occasionally giving a few to Hedwig on his shoulder who ate them out of his hand. He stood there for a while shelling and eating peas before realizing they were hardly filling and he might very well be standing there all day. Moving on, he plucked out a carrot and rinsed it with a quick Aguamenti, nibbling on it as he went. Eggplants and tomatoes went into the basket, and potatoes and radishes were dug up. He was in the mood for something meatier to go with his veg, and decided to catch a fish for dinner.

Hedwig remained on his shoulder as he headed to the river.

"I suppose you'll want one too?" he asked dryly. Hedwig flapped her wings in agreement.

"You'll get the smaller one." Hedwig screeched in his ear. "Don't you squawk at me. I have your wizard to feed too, as you may recall." One hand rested on his rotund belly. Hedwig gave him a look of grudging acceptance and didn't argue further.

They reached the river, and Severus levitated a stone over the ice and slammed it down until a large hole cracked open. He and Hedwig waited, very still and quiet, until a good specimen swam by. Severus hit it with a Stupefy, and it floated to the top. He levitated it out of the icy water and into the basket, then waited for another one. With a second fish in the basket, he started for home. By the time they reached the house, the spell had worn off and the fish were weakly flopping around, nearly out of breath.

"Here." Severus handed a fish to Hedwig, who eagerly grabbed it in her beak and took it to her perch. He got to work cleaning and gutting the other one, rubbing herbs into it before putting it on the stove and preparing the vegetables. It was a tasty meal for both of them.

Afterwards, Severus remained sitting at the table feeling Potter kick, who typically got a burst of energy after meals. Severus didn't register the upturn to his lips as he rubbed the spot with his palm and felt little feet kick back. He had quickly grown used to having someone moving around inside him, yet it still amazed him.

He briefly wondered if Lily had felt the same when she was pregnant with the boy, before realizing this was something they now had in common: carrying the same child. He huffed with amusement; he had ended up pregnant with Lily's child after all, just not in the way he had thought. This wouldn't make up for all his mistakes that had cost her friendship and her life, or the ways he had failed the boy too, but he hoped this was a second chance of sorts for both of them. Thus far, Potter was growing big and healthy, and in the right home he would grow up happy and loved like he hadn't before.

Severus had long decided it needed to be a magical family to raise the boy - being raised by Muggles hadn't turned out so well before, and he would need guidance and understanding as his magic manifested. Severus still debated whether to hand over Potter's wand with him or not. Since he was essentially the same person, it should still work for him, theoretically. But there would be no explaining why a newborn already had a wand that would work for him without divulging the whole truth, and Severus wasn't about to tell a soul. For all intents and purposes, Harry Potter was dead, and Severus didn't want his extra abilities revealed either. Potter was getting a new identity and a new life, and Severus would never be connected to his disappearance or where this newborn had come from. He could say he had found the baby on the doorstep and couldn't keep him, along with the wand, or say the baby was a relative he couldn't raise and the wand had belonged to the boy's father. He still had a few months to figure out his story. But how would he know who to give the boy to? He continued to struggle with how to determine the right family. How could he hand over a newborn baby - Lily's son - to strangers without knowing for sure they would raise him right?

Not that Severus was an expert. His own childhood had been miserable, and he had nothing else to compare it to. Only theories on what a loving family should be like, basically the opposite of everything he'd known. Had he been able to marry and have children of his own, he could have learned what that looked like, what a good husband and father really did. But it was too late for that. There was no one he wanted, no hope of finding someone who might actually want him too. This would be it - his only pregnancy, with a child he would hand over and rarely ever see, assuming they let him visit. He would rattle around his house alone the rest of his days.

A deep melancholy settled over him, and he blinked back tears.