Severus had spent hours in the greenhouse, planting seeds for future crops. That morning's harvest sat in the basket behind him, and Hedwig watched him work from a nearby table. Severus was grateful every day for standing planters he could reach without kneeling down, but his back still hurt and his ankles were swelled up from all the time on his feet. May brought warmer weather and softer turf, so unless he was heading into the woods, he went without shoes. Today, not for the first time, he hadn't even put socks on, unwilling to exhaust himself with the effort unless necessary.

He finished his planting and sprinkled water on the soil, added some plant food potion, then stretched his back with a groan. Harry followed suit, stretching his feet into Severus' ribs for a few seconds.

"Ugh! Must you?"

He sighed in relief when Harry drew back, curling up again. Severus ran a hand over his large belly, feeling fit to burst.

"Every time I look, you've gotten bigger." He was sure he hadn't been this big even a week ago. Part of him was relieved to know Harry was still growing as he should, and part of him was tired and achy and not sure he could get any fatter.

Hedwig flapped over and brushed her head against his belly.

"Nothing yet. He's taking his time."

They were playing the waiting game now. Technically, he'd been waiting ever since he got pregnant, but now he could possibly go into labor any day. He and Hedwig were keeping a watchful eye out for any sign that Harry was ready to make his appearance. But days were going by, and nothing seemed to be happening, except Severus' belly continued to swell and get heavier. That, and his chest was sore and tender as it swelled with milk, preparing to feed the baby that was all but ready to come out. It was a normal, healthy sign, he knew, but he couldn't help feeling like one big, swollen lump sometimes.

He reached for the basket of produce and waddled out of the greenhouse, Hedwig flying after him. By the time he reached the kitchen, he knew he was hungry again. He prepared a quick snack, rinsing and chopping up some fruit.

He smirked to himself. "It really has come to this. Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen."

Hedwig had no complaints or mirth to offer, watching him intently. Severus sat at the table with his food, propping his swollen feet up on the other chair and resting his bowl on his belly as he ate, a cup of water on the table. At least living alone meant he didn't have to worry about how unseemly he looked, or anyone to laugh at how he wobbled around everywhere, or needed a few tries to get off the sofa sometimes, or his frequent, awkward dashes to the loo. He could be as fat and ungainly as he needed to be without worrying about witnesses. It wasn't as though he had ever been considered a handsome specimen, so he was losing nothing by accepting his swollen, gravid body for what it was. Whatever it took to grow a healthy baby, even if it wasn't glamorous.

He set the empty bowl on the table next to the empty cup, hastily getting up so he could pee. Having to drink plenty of water and having a full term baby's head sitting on his bladder meant he took frequent trips to relieve himself, even during the night.

After coming out of the bathroom, which he'd cleaned from top to bottom yesterday, he started tidying up the living room. When had it gotten so messy? There was dust everywhere! And these blankets needed to be washed. There were books that needed to be put away. When was the last time this floor had been swept? He spent the rest of the day cleaning this terribly neglected room.

When dinnertime arrived, Severus had a perfectly clean, organized living room. He would have to tackle the rest of the house later, but this was a good start. He felt quite satisfied as he prepared dinner.

After the meal, Severus washed the dishes, then sat out on the bench with another rabbit pelt to sew onto the blanket. It was cool and clear outside, birds were chirping, soft grass lay beneath his feet, a breeze lightly blowing his long hair that still hadn't been trimmed. There was a lovely sunset. Hedwig watched him sew, occasionally grooming her feathers.

After he magically sealed the new skin on, he ran a hand over the furs draped across him. It was so soft and warm. Just the thing for a cozy night in, or an extra layer as one sat and enjoyed the view.

"What do you think?" he asked Hedwig. "Perhaps a few more before it's done?"

She hooted softly.

He sat back, watching the swirls of pinks, purples and oranges in the sky. Harry was shifting around, as though trying to find a comfortable position in a cramped space. Severus was definitely uncomfortable himself. As much as he'd come to enjoy carrying Harry around, physically he wasn't sure how much longer he could do this. Yet at the same time, he still wasn't ready to let go. He dreaded the thought of no longer having Lily's baby with him. Relinquishing Harry to strangers and hoping they would give him a proper upbringing, while he himself went back to puttering around his house alone, year after year. Until he was old and gray, maybe a hundred years if he was lucky, hopefully dying in his sleep, lying in decay forgotten in a house no one knew to look for. Or maybe he would keel over in the woods, and let nature reclaim him in an unmarked grave.

He blinked back tears, ashamed of himself. This was the life he'd chosen for himself, to be left strictly alone. If he'd wanted to deal with people again, he would have gone back to Britain. He had peace and quiet here that he greatly appreciated, living in tune with nature's rhythms. So why was he feeling miserable? Was it simply hormones messing with him again?

The howl of a coyote brought him to attention. Another howl went up in response. He shivered, even with the blanket over him. The howls of any canine always made him nervous. His arms were around his belly before he realized it.

Deciding he could watch the sunset from indoors, he gathered the blanket and hurriedly hauled himself to his feet, succeeding on the second try. Hedwig flew inside with him.

Severus sat in the kitchen with the curtains open, glad to be indoors as he heard more howls go up. Better safe than sorry, especially now since he was so much slower and less agile.

After the sun set, he moved to the living room, lying on his side on the sofa with several pillows. He absently ran a hand over his belly as Harry squirmed around. Hedwig watched as she perched on top of the sofa.

"Ouch!" Harry had managed to kick him hard. "It's not enough you're jammed into my organs, you have to beat them black and blue as well?"

He sighed as Harry punched him in response. He rubbed a different spot so Harry would change course. No matter how sore and tight his belly was, Harry maintained his energetic antics. A far cry from the lethargic teenager with no strength to even stand on his own.

"I hope you're happy in there." Harry continued to punch against Severus' fingers. "I take it you feel safe, at least. I've done my best to keep you safe. I'm sorry this was all I could do for you. I ought to have protected you before. You wouldn't have been so broken. I know you wanted to die. So did I. I know what that's like."

He wouldn't have minded dying himself after Lily's demise. The guilt and grief had been overwhelming. They still lingered deep within him, like old scars, but he had also grown to value his new life. Hopefully Harry would grow up valuing his new life too.

Had Severus died all those years ago, Harry would have perished out there in the wilderness. He wouldn't have gotten his hands on de-aging potion either without Severus, but at least he had been able to prevent the boy from killing himself. Perhaps this was penance for abandoning the boy to his fate years before - all the aches and pains while he was totally responsible for Harry's welfare as he grew in his most vulnerable state. But Severus didn't regret being able to save him. For once, he had done something right. Maybe his life hadn't been a total waste.

He continued talking softly to Harry as he felt tiny hands and feet in response, until his eyes grew heavy.

He woke up during the night, needing to pee. He groaned as he got up from the sofa and wearily waddled to the bathroom. Afterwards, he went to his room, only having enough energy to undress before sinking into bed, endlessly adjusting pillows as he tried to settle in. But his achy joints and heavy belly meant he was never totally comfortable. He sighed as he shut his eyes, finding a good enough position as he pulled the blanket closer.

In the morning, he didn't want to get up. He'd had a disrupted night, having to use the bathroom a few more times and not being able to get comfortable at all to fall asleep for long. He didn't feel too rested.

Hedwig flew in and landed on the bed. Ever since the weather had warmed up, Severus kept one window open so Hedwig could go out to hunt and come back on her own. He stroked her feathers as she softly hooted.

"I hope you had a better night than I did."

She stepped closer and bunted her head on his belly.

"Yes, it was his fault. No signs of him coming out yet."

Severus lay there a while longer, stroking Hedwig. Not having anywhere to go was a blessing when one was very pregnant and very exhausted. But despite not feeling well, he knew he needed to get up eventually. Like having to pee again.

"Merlin, when does it end?" He hauled himself out of bed with a grunt to go to the bathroom.

After a shower and getting dressed, he made breakfast. The water buckets were nearly empty - he would have to go refill them today.

He'd had to magically widen his shoes in order for them to fit, but it was still a challenge getting them and his socks on. He was already winded from the effort before even heading out, needing a minute to suck air into his lungs.

Hedwig flew close by as he waddled towards the river, buckets in hand. He sighed longingly as he heard baby birds hungrily chirping in their nests for their parents to feed them. It felt like forever before he would have a hungry, crying baby on his hands, despite how close he was. Nature already had babies to care for, and he was still waiting for his, like he was the last one to give birth.

At the river, he magically lowered the buckets into the water, and levitated them beside him on the way back. He hadn't bent over to manually fill them in months.

Once home, the buckets on the counter, he took a long drink, then went out to the greenhouse. He was a little distracted from his picking and pruning as he noticed how dirty and disorganized it was in there. How had he let it get to this? The basket full of produce was eventually set aside as he started sweeping and cleaning and re-organizing his tools and supplies. By the time everything was satisfactory, he was tired again, and still feeling off.

He rubbed his belly as he picked up the basket. Maybe he had indigestion again. The produce was taken to the kitchen, and he went to the bathroom. Afterwards he lay on the sofa, wondering if he needed a nap. His recent exertion and his restless night would explain a few things. He managed to drop off for a while.

When he woke up, he felt odd. Not ill, but odd. Why was he feeling so strange today? A bad night's sleep was nothing new. Was something amiss? Harry had been acting normal, just as active as usual. Come to think of it, he'd been moving more often today, still wiggling around.

"Where is this extra energy coming from? Did you steal all of mine, perhaps?"

Harry showed no signs of slowing down. Severus shut his eyes, deciding he needed to take it easy that day, even if Harry had other plans.

Around lunchtime, he got up to eat, but his stomach wasn't feeling up to much. He nibbled on a few things, had some water, but by now his belly was feeling worse, like it was cramping up. Severus began to fear something was wrong. What if he'd taken a terrible risk by not seeing a healer? What if Harry needed help? What if it was too late?

Then he felt it. A squeezing sensation. With all the frequent activity going on in his belly, he hadn't noticed until now, but realized he'd been feeling it off and on all day.

He'd keep an eye on it, but he had a hunch what it was. If his hunch was correct, these were contractions.

And he'd been in labor all day.

A few hours later, he was no longer guessing about what was happening. The contractions had regulated and were getting stronger. He grimaced as another one came.

"This is it, Hedwig." He rubbed his belly as the contraction receded. "He's coming."

She flapped her wings excitedly, following him as he went to his room. He had a few more things to prepare before the main event. He stripped the blankets off the bed, lining it with towels. More folded towels were set beside the bed, next to the potion vials. He took a knife from the kitchen and sterilized it before setting it on top of the folded towels. He was tempted to clean his room while he bided his time, but he knew he needed to conserve energy for the big task ahead. He ought to rest while he could.

But he was too restless to stay still for very long. He tried sitting in his armchair with a book, but had to admit after a while that he couldn't focus on the words. He set the book aside and got up to pace around the house. Contractions were noticeable, but only uncomfortable so far. He kept pacing until dinnertime, when he made a small meal, which he ate slowly.

Afterwards he used the bathroom and sat sprawled on the sofa, feeling impatient. He knew birth was a long process, but it would be getting dark soon; the day was nearly over and he was still in labor, not even close to being ready to push. It was going to be another long night, whether he gave birth before morning or not.

Severus watched the sunset from inside, not wanting to be out in the open for some reason. Every several minutes a contraction squeezed his belly, and Harry kept wiggling around.

"Have you gotten the hint yet?" Severus asked him. "You're busy enough in there."

As soon as the sun disappeared, Severus got up again, waddling around the house. Hedwig didn't go out, perched on his shoulder.

"You don't have to stay on my account. There's nothing you can do."

Hedwig hooted and stayed put. He let her ride on him as he paced, not knowing how much time was passing. He kept walking back and forth, contracting every now and then, for what seemed like ages. Eventually he decided he didn't want to be touched anymore.

"Get off." He shrugged off Hedwig, who flapped over to the back of the sofa and watched him from there.

He moaned wearily, rubbing his back. Why was nothing happening? Was it supposed to take this long? He'd been waiting for months for this day to come, and he was still waiting. All that anticipation of finally getting this baby out of him - and all the dread. The dread of the unknown, of giving birth for the first time, utterly alone without any assistance, being utterly alone again afterwards. He really wanted this baby out of his body, but at the same time, he was dealing with a rising alarm he couldn't quite place. Was it the fear of giving birth alone, or something else? But why else would he be feeling frightened? What else could it be?

He put on his nightshirt, hoping without really hoping that he might be able to get some rest that night, if not a newborn. Sitting on his bed, he breathed through a contraction, trying to tell himself that everything was fine. He wasn't in too much pain yet, Harry was still moving around, no signs of distress. But no signs of progress either. Hours had gone by without any apparent change. Shouldn't he have gotten closer to delivering by now?

He lay on his side, eyes shut as he held his belly through contractions. Time wore on, and sleep seemed impossible. As did giving birth. It felt like he was stuck in limbo, doomed to be in labor forever without ever having a baby. Tears stung his eyes as frustration mounted. Was he doing something wrong? Was it his fault? Being a male bearer clearly didn't make him an expert in childbearing, if he was having such a difficult time. All he wanted was to have this baby, no matter how hard he had to work to bear a child that wasn't his.

A sob escaped him. This would be the only time he'd have a baby, his only chance, and he was mucking it up, like always. Harry was trapped inside him where he'd been for several months, needing nourishment and protection, and had finally outgrown him. He was developed enough to come out, and Severus wanted him out - yet he couldn't let go. His body wasn't cooperating, and Severus didn't know what to do to get things moving. He had done well enough carrying Harry all this time, yet couldn't bring him forth. Wasn't that the most important part?

Once again, he had failed the boy. When it counted, Severus couldn't be counted on. Why couldn't he accept facts? He didn't deserve a family, so he didn't deserve to keep the child he was laboring so hard with. The child he'd carried and fed and talked to and felt move and made little clothes for...

He sobbed again. Once Harry was born, if ever, that time was over. No more pretending he was having Lily's son for himself. He wasn't ready for it to end.

But if he wasn't, he'd be stuck laboring for nothing, stubbornly holding onto what didn't belong to him even as his body yearned for release of its precious burden. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up until he gave out. Worse, being trapped in a limbo of labor without being delivered might send Harry into distress.

He groaned through a contraction, then noticed Hedwig was watching him from beside the bed.

"Hedwig... I'm sorry... I don't think I can do this. There's a window open... Leave us... Find a new wizard."

Hedwig screeched in disapproval, staying put.

"I know you've been waiting to see your wizard again... So have I. But I can't - Urgh!" Another contraction hit. "I can't get him out. All our waiting for nothing... I can't..."

Feeling like a failure, having only prolonged Harry's life for him to perish inside him instead of seeing the light of day again, Severus took a ragged breath as he gripped his belly full of baby that kept squirming as though fighting against his confines. There was no use indulging in what ifs, but he couldn't help wishing things had been different. If only he didn't have to do all this work with nothing to show for it. If only he didn't have to give up this surprise baby. If only Harry was his.

Unless he decided to be selfish again.

If he was brutally honest with himself, he didn't want to part with this baby he'd been sharing life with who by now felt like a part of him. He didn't want to go through labor and birth without a baby to hold afterwards. He hadn't been able to bring himself to find new parents because he didn't trust anyone else to take care of Harry, not after he'd carefully seen to his needs himself for so long, knowing which fruits made him more hyper and how he liked to play and that long walks made him sleepy. He'd been lying to himself for months; he hadn't wanted to hand Harry over to anyone. And he didn't want to deliver a baby for someone else.

He wanted to have a son of his own.

Not that he was a good choice to be a father. How many things had he messed up in life? How many times had he made the wrong choice? But he still wanted it, a chance to try. To give birth to a baby he could keep and raise the best he could. He'd do whatever it took to deliver his own child and see him face to face and hold him in his arms and share life with him. He could release this baby if it meant not losing him to someone else.

Because the thought of handing Harry over, of a stranger taking him away, was terrifying him to the point his body was stalling, unwilling to let go. But he couldn't keep this up. He was getting exhausted. Harry needed to be born. He was going to have to make a decision.

He took shaky breaths, trying to steady himself. He needed to calm down and do this.

Twenty minutes later, the contractions picked up. He gasped as the pain intensified, as they started coming faster. He rolled onto his back, and instantly regretted it. He couldn't breathe. With effort, he sat up, trying to breathe deep between contractions. They hardened his belly and racked his back as they squeezed so hard he thought he might break in half. After one contraction had him yelling, he reached for a pain potion. It took the edge off and made it more bearable, but he could still feel everything going on.

He decided that sitting was intolerable, and got to his feet. He leaned against the bed, moaning and rocking side to side. He grit his teeth as intense contractions came closer together. The nightshirt came off and was tossed to the floor, covered in sweat.

Then he gasped from another sensation, before feeling wet. He couldn't see his feet, but he felt the trickle of fluid running down his legs, heard it puddling on the floor. It was possible he had peed himself, but it kept coming, and it didn't smell like that kind of accident. His water had broken. He summoned one of the towels to soak it up, leaving it on the floor. He had to be close now.

Ten minutes later, he was yelling again as the contractions came right next to each other, giving him barely any time to breathe in between. Then he felt an undeniable urge to push as the baby made it clear they were ready. He hurried onto the bed, on his hands and knees with his hips spread when he couldn't wait any longer and started pushing. Gritting his teeth, he growled with the effort of pushing as hard as he could.

He completely lost track of time and the world around him, focused on nothing else but pushing over and over, determined to deliver this baby no matter what. Every time his heaving belly hardened with a contraction, he grit his teeth and bore down hard as long as he could, hands clawing the towels lining the bed.

Something started passing through, and he pushed with renewed effort. He was so close! The growls turned to yells. He pushed again, and felt a burning release. He was panting, quite out of breath and sweaty.

Then he heard it. A baby's cries.

He turned around, and there was little Harry, red and bloody and wailing.

Severus reached for the knife and carefully cut the cord. He used the other towel to gently dry him off, then laid back with his newborn on his chest. He blinked back tears as he beheld the infant he'd brought forth all by himself, brand new and healthy and perfect.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't give up this child he'd carried and given birth to, couldn't let go of Lily's flesh and blood he held right in his arms. As far as he was concerned, he was a father who had just borne a son.

"It's good to see you again. I've been waiting for you."

Hedwig landed on the bedside table and peered over at the newborn, hooting and flapping her wings excitedly.

"Doesn't he look fine?" Severus said proudly. "He's much improved." Hedwig clearly agreed.

He smiled down at the infant again. "Your faithful owl has been eagerly awaiting your return as well. Do you recall all those times she would check up on you?"

Harry had quieted on hearing a familiar voice, and was now rooting around on Severus' chest. Severus guessed what it was he was looking for, and showed him where the milk was. Once Harry latched on, he hungrily suckled without any apathy.

"Well, you certainly have an appetite now."

Severus watched with immense pleasure at the baby happily nursing. He looked so content, like he knew he was safe and hadn't a care in the world. He was perfectly healthy with no injuries of any sort, had a hearty appetite and was a good size. Severus had been right about not carrying an underweight baby; Harry had to be at least 7 pounds. He gently brushed a fingertip across the tiny forehead - the infamous scar was gone. A truly clean slate, and Severus was going to make the most of it.

Last year, Harry Potter had died. Tonight, Snape Jr. was born. He'd have to work on a new name.

Exhausted yet genuinely happy for the first time in years, Severus fell asleep holding his newborn son. At the same time, the sun began to rise.