Pregnant, she's pregnant, thought Snape. I am going to be a father.
Shit, that's scary.
Can I do this? I think I still want to do this. Or don't I?
He looked up from his position by the fire and his dinner, which the house elves had brought up on a tray. Hermione was still asleep. After she told him she was pregnant, the stress and exhaustion of the day had gotten to both of them. Her bitter words had left him speechless and she apparently was too tired to go on herself and quickly fell asleep. He hung on to consciousness a bit longer, caressing her belly and trying to guess how far along she was. Seventeen years and what - six weeks? That could be one big baby. He chuckled softly before following her into slumber.
Now awake, he began to more clearly process the information. So in - what? In June, I'll be a father. If she'll let me, he corrected himself, remembering her deflating proclamation that she did not want a Death Eater as the father of her child.
Dismissing that depressing thought for the moment, he tried to recall when Hermione could have become pregnant. The act that brought about this little surprise was so far in his past, he could barely remember it. Although, he thought it might have happened after the Sorting ceremony, at the beginning of his second year as a teaching apprentice at Hogwarts.
He had bet Hermione over which house his second cousin, half Slytherin and half Gryffindor, would wind up in. After one conversation with Diamant, Hermione had correctly guessed - the latest Snape went to Ravenclaw. And, Snape, the loser - if you could call it that, he reminisced - had to skinny dip in the lake with the giant squid. Hermione stood laughing on the shore as, after midnight, Snape did his penance. Of course, it didn't take long for her to join him in the cool water.
For once, the playful squid left the nude swimmers alone as he had caressed her wet body, kissing her deeply and finally lifting her onto his erection for a gentle and relaxing lovemaking session. Certainly, he remembered, it was the best sex they had had in months. He and Hermione had been trying to have a baby since they had arrived at Hogwarts and had a stable life and income. Maybe it was the pressures of his first year at a real job, or her pressures at Oxford where she was attempting to earn a degree in Transfiguration or maybe they were just putting too much pressure on themselves. The latter was the most likely, he mused. Take two overachievers who can't conceive the first month or so, and you wind up with an emotional, stressed out mess and one hell of a boring, mechanical sex life. Between all the potions and Muggle ovulation predictors and pregnancy tests, their dungeon bathroom had become what he jokingly called "Baby Making Central." Just to himself, of course. If he had attempted to joke about the problem with Hermione, he would have wound up sleeping on the Headmaster's sofa and feeling incredibly guilty for making his beautiful wife cry.
***
She had tears in her eyes as she looked up at him.
"Severus?" she said. "You got it? You really got it? We don't have to live with your parents any longer? Really? I won't know what to do if we have real privacy."
Severus just grinned at his bride of nearly one year. He had applied to be their old potions professor's apprentice. Old Professor Figg planned to retire in three years and whoever was lucky enough to land the apprentice job at Hogwarts would be the obvious top choice for the position when she left. Talk about job security, he thought, Hogwarts will be around for hundreds more years. And I'll have time to do research in the summers, too. And the job, he had found out that morning, was his.
"We move in next week, love," he replied. "We have a two-story suite of rooms in the dungeons near the Slytherin dormitory. I'll be assistant Head of House for the Slytherins, too. No rent to deal with, minimal living costs and a very reasonable pay every month. We can stop struggling, finally. And we can start working on that little project we talked about."
Hermione looked up at him expectantly. He grinned as he saw the realization dawn on her. Then laughed as she began crying again.
"If you are this emotional now, I don't even want to think about how bad you'll be when you are pregnant, love," he said, taking her into his arms for a passionate kiss and bear hug. "But, in answer to the question in those big brown eyes of yours, yes, we can start trying for that baby you want so badly."
She squeezed him tightly once more and ran from the bedroom and into their connecting bath. He followed her and walked in just in time to see her dumping two months worth of contraceptive potion down the sink with a triumphant grin.
"So, Daddy," she said, stalking over to him with a seductive smile on her lips and stripping off her clothing on the way. "Shall we get started right now?"
"You don't think we should wait until we get moved into the castle?" he teased her, backing away but also beginning to remove his robes. "I mean, I don't really start the job for another two weeks and all -"
She had caught up with him and backed him up against the bed and with a push; he toppled onto the coverlet and pillows, smiling. Pouncing him, she straddled him and leaned down to draw him into a deep, searching and blindingly passionate kiss.
"Of course, we could always use plenty of practice, couldn't we?" Severus panted, when she released him. "Gods, you're amazing, I just hope we don't get pregnant too quickly."
They both laughed and sank into the mattress.
Making love with a purpose or goal was weird, Severus thought. Maybe not weird, he decided as Hermione heatedly explored his mouth while her hands urgently began to stroke him. Good, definitely good. Maybe it's the fact that becoming a parent terrifies me. Fear can do marvelous things for the libido, he mused, remembering a few interesting "episodes" he and Hermione had shared in school under his invisibility cloak and in very public places. And female hormones are wonderful things, too. Gods, she's attacking me.
And I like it. A lot.
All thoughts fled then as Hermione grasped Severus and guided him inside her. Rocking fiercely on him, her eyes were sparkling and her smile radiant. Their eyes locked for several minutes as she continued to grind out her passions on him. After she reached her breaking point, she paused, leaning down to capture his mouth in a kiss; she bent to his ear and whispered one simple word.
"Daddy."
Breathless, it hit him. They were trying to make a baby. His and Hermione's baby. Theirs. A baby. And suddenly, making love to his wife seemed to be the most amazing and miraculous thing in the world.
"Gods, I love you, Hermione," he nearly sobbed as he climaxed, burying himself even deeper into her. "I love you."
As she collapsed on his chest, he sent up a little prayer to whichever fertility or estrogen god was listening. They may not be pregnant right now, he mused, but if they kept this up it wouldn't take long. And, I think I'm okay with that. He thought about the sleepless nights and diapers and the sweet baby smells and sloppy toddler kisses that his cousins had always spoken of at family dinners. He grinned into Hermione's curls. I can do this. Someday soon, I'm going to be a father.
I can do this.
***
Can I do this now, mused Snape as he began pacing in front of the fireplace. I was all youthful, stupid confidence all those years ago. I'm set in my ways. I've developed a reputation for being a nasty bastard who hates kids. The dungeons are a mess, I don't think I've been upstairs for years, how am I going to get it ready for a baby? And what if the baby turns out like Longbottom, gods forbid? And how am I going to handle a very young, hormonal and pregnant wife at my age? Or --
What if Hermione leaves you, you greasy bastard git of a Death Eater, said a small nasty voice at the back of his head.
Snape looked at the dozing figure of his pregnant wife on her bed, his mind awhirl with conflicting emotions - the most prevalent being doubt. If he couldn't face his wife with his past, how could he ever explain it to a child? Your father was a murderer and Death Eater - welcome to the world! He shook his head. That baby was only about six weeks along. Innocent and pure. And he or she doesn't need to be raised by a man tainted by evil. Hermione was right.
I can't do this.
Without looking back, Severus Snape left the Hospital Wing and headed for the relative safety and solitude of the dungeons he had once shared with Hermione.
He had some packing to do.
Shit, that's scary.
Can I do this? I think I still want to do this. Or don't I?
He looked up from his position by the fire and his dinner, which the house elves had brought up on a tray. Hermione was still asleep. After she told him she was pregnant, the stress and exhaustion of the day had gotten to both of them. Her bitter words had left him speechless and she apparently was too tired to go on herself and quickly fell asleep. He hung on to consciousness a bit longer, caressing her belly and trying to guess how far along she was. Seventeen years and what - six weeks? That could be one big baby. He chuckled softly before following her into slumber.
Now awake, he began to more clearly process the information. So in - what? In June, I'll be a father. If she'll let me, he corrected himself, remembering her deflating proclamation that she did not want a Death Eater as the father of her child.
Dismissing that depressing thought for the moment, he tried to recall when Hermione could have become pregnant. The act that brought about this little surprise was so far in his past, he could barely remember it. Although, he thought it might have happened after the Sorting ceremony, at the beginning of his second year as a teaching apprentice at Hogwarts.
He had bet Hermione over which house his second cousin, half Slytherin and half Gryffindor, would wind up in. After one conversation with Diamant, Hermione had correctly guessed - the latest Snape went to Ravenclaw. And, Snape, the loser - if you could call it that, he reminisced - had to skinny dip in the lake with the giant squid. Hermione stood laughing on the shore as, after midnight, Snape did his penance. Of course, it didn't take long for her to join him in the cool water.
For once, the playful squid left the nude swimmers alone as he had caressed her wet body, kissing her deeply and finally lifting her onto his erection for a gentle and relaxing lovemaking session. Certainly, he remembered, it was the best sex they had had in months. He and Hermione had been trying to have a baby since they had arrived at Hogwarts and had a stable life and income. Maybe it was the pressures of his first year at a real job, or her pressures at Oxford where she was attempting to earn a degree in Transfiguration or maybe they were just putting too much pressure on themselves. The latter was the most likely, he mused. Take two overachievers who can't conceive the first month or so, and you wind up with an emotional, stressed out mess and one hell of a boring, mechanical sex life. Between all the potions and Muggle ovulation predictors and pregnancy tests, their dungeon bathroom had become what he jokingly called "Baby Making Central." Just to himself, of course. If he had attempted to joke about the problem with Hermione, he would have wound up sleeping on the Headmaster's sofa and feeling incredibly guilty for making his beautiful wife cry.
***
She had tears in her eyes as she looked up at him.
"Severus?" she said. "You got it? You really got it? We don't have to live with your parents any longer? Really? I won't know what to do if we have real privacy."
Severus just grinned at his bride of nearly one year. He had applied to be their old potions professor's apprentice. Old Professor Figg planned to retire in three years and whoever was lucky enough to land the apprentice job at Hogwarts would be the obvious top choice for the position when she left. Talk about job security, he thought, Hogwarts will be around for hundreds more years. And I'll have time to do research in the summers, too. And the job, he had found out that morning, was his.
"We move in next week, love," he replied. "We have a two-story suite of rooms in the dungeons near the Slytherin dormitory. I'll be assistant Head of House for the Slytherins, too. No rent to deal with, minimal living costs and a very reasonable pay every month. We can stop struggling, finally. And we can start working on that little project we talked about."
Hermione looked up at him expectantly. He grinned as he saw the realization dawn on her. Then laughed as she began crying again.
"If you are this emotional now, I don't even want to think about how bad you'll be when you are pregnant, love," he said, taking her into his arms for a passionate kiss and bear hug. "But, in answer to the question in those big brown eyes of yours, yes, we can start trying for that baby you want so badly."
She squeezed him tightly once more and ran from the bedroom and into their connecting bath. He followed her and walked in just in time to see her dumping two months worth of contraceptive potion down the sink with a triumphant grin.
"So, Daddy," she said, stalking over to him with a seductive smile on her lips and stripping off her clothing on the way. "Shall we get started right now?"
"You don't think we should wait until we get moved into the castle?" he teased her, backing away but also beginning to remove his robes. "I mean, I don't really start the job for another two weeks and all -"
She had caught up with him and backed him up against the bed and with a push; he toppled onto the coverlet and pillows, smiling. Pouncing him, she straddled him and leaned down to draw him into a deep, searching and blindingly passionate kiss.
"Of course, we could always use plenty of practice, couldn't we?" Severus panted, when she released him. "Gods, you're amazing, I just hope we don't get pregnant too quickly."
They both laughed and sank into the mattress.
Making love with a purpose or goal was weird, Severus thought. Maybe not weird, he decided as Hermione heatedly explored his mouth while her hands urgently began to stroke him. Good, definitely good. Maybe it's the fact that becoming a parent terrifies me. Fear can do marvelous things for the libido, he mused, remembering a few interesting "episodes" he and Hermione had shared in school under his invisibility cloak and in very public places. And female hormones are wonderful things, too. Gods, she's attacking me.
And I like it. A lot.
All thoughts fled then as Hermione grasped Severus and guided him inside her. Rocking fiercely on him, her eyes were sparkling and her smile radiant. Their eyes locked for several minutes as she continued to grind out her passions on him. After she reached her breaking point, she paused, leaning down to capture his mouth in a kiss; she bent to his ear and whispered one simple word.
"Daddy."
Breathless, it hit him. They were trying to make a baby. His and Hermione's baby. Theirs. A baby. And suddenly, making love to his wife seemed to be the most amazing and miraculous thing in the world.
"Gods, I love you, Hermione," he nearly sobbed as he climaxed, burying himself even deeper into her. "I love you."
As she collapsed on his chest, he sent up a little prayer to whichever fertility or estrogen god was listening. They may not be pregnant right now, he mused, but if they kept this up it wouldn't take long. And, I think I'm okay with that. He thought about the sleepless nights and diapers and the sweet baby smells and sloppy toddler kisses that his cousins had always spoken of at family dinners. He grinned into Hermione's curls. I can do this. Someday soon, I'm going to be a father.
I can do this.
***
Can I do this now, mused Snape as he began pacing in front of the fireplace. I was all youthful, stupid confidence all those years ago. I'm set in my ways. I've developed a reputation for being a nasty bastard who hates kids. The dungeons are a mess, I don't think I've been upstairs for years, how am I going to get it ready for a baby? And what if the baby turns out like Longbottom, gods forbid? And how am I going to handle a very young, hormonal and pregnant wife at my age? Or --
What if Hermione leaves you, you greasy bastard git of a Death Eater, said a small nasty voice at the back of his head.
Snape looked at the dozing figure of his pregnant wife on her bed, his mind awhirl with conflicting emotions - the most prevalent being doubt. If he couldn't face his wife with his past, how could he ever explain it to a child? Your father was a murderer and Death Eater - welcome to the world! He shook his head. That baby was only about six weeks along. Innocent and pure. And he or she doesn't need to be raised by a man tainted by evil. Hermione was right.
I can't do this.
Without looking back, Severus Snape left the Hospital Wing and headed for the relative safety and solitude of the dungeons he had once shared with Hermione.
He had some packing to do.