"No!"
Harry and Snape took a deep breath in unison and raised their gazes to meet the furious ones of their other halves. Hermione and Ginny had spent the better part of the last half hour alternating between pleading and screaming fury.
'This is not going well,' mused Harry.
An exhausted Snape decided to try another tactic and sat, pulling Hermione into his lap. He toyed with one of her curls as he again tried to explain why he and Harry were important to the budding Dark Mark plot to a woman who only cared for his safety and well-being.
"No, Severus," interrupted Hermione firmly. "You shouldn't have even gone tonight. I don't want you in any situation that involves Aurors, the Killing Curse and angry Death Eaters. You have risked your life enough. It's time to be a husband and father - not a spy or a hero."
"I agree with Hermione," said Ginny, arms folded. "Harry, you have more than done your part to fight the Dark. In addition, I am barely feeling prepared to have this baby as it is and I sure as hell don't want to do it without you. I can't and I won't. You aren't going."
"We are." Harry said, with Snapelike venom.
Snape looked at Harry in surprise. He had noticed the teen taking a very gentle hand with his fiancée since they had began dating. What Ginny wanted or needed was what Ginny generally got. Harry left no room for argument with his tone or economical words tonight, however.
"We are going, girls, *because* the two of you are pregnant," offered Snape. "We don't want our children to fear the Dark Mark. If we can get rid of Lucius and his minions, then we have no choice but to proceed with the plan. And I am confident the plan will work. I'm sorry, Hermione -"
The discussion was interrupted when Ginny turned and abruptly exited the room, Harry hard on her heels. Hermione followed them with her eyes briefly before standing to look at her husband.
"I do not want you to go," she said simply. "You've paid your debt, you've done your share, you've been the hero, you have already -"
"I killed a woman tonight," interrupted Snape, striding over to the kitchen and rummaging in the cabinets for his whiskey. He took a glass tumbler from another cabinet and conjured a handful of ice before nearly filling the glass with the amber liquid. He took a long drink and shuddered as it hit his already-queasy stomach.
Hermione sat heavily down on the sofa and lighted the fire with her wand. She waited silently for Snape to continue and attempted to control her trembling hands. He leaned his long frame against the kitchen counter, out of her line of sight, and examined his rapidly emptying glass.
"We apparated to a home of a student," he began softly. "Dumbledore is handling the situation as we speak. Muggle parents of a student and the siblings were murdered tonight. I killed the woman."
"Why, Severus?" breathed Hermione. "How could you?"
"She was being raped, Hermione," he said. "I suppose I could have attempted to save her and get us both killed in the process - and probably Draco, too. No matter what I did, she would die. As it was, I saved the potential for the resistance and I saved her possibly a horrific half an hour, but I can't tell you if it was the right thing to do or not. Yet another innocent death on my hands, Hermione. I don't know how many more I can take."
She stood and walked to watch him finish off his impossibly large glass of whiskey. He spent a few more minutes examining the melting ice before roaring in frustration and rage -- throwing the glass against the stone walls of the dining area. He stood quietly - his stare now on the floor.
After nearly a quarter hour had passed, Hermione moved to her husband and, taking his hand, led him upstairs. He stood impassively, yet with fury and pain still sparking in his eyes, as she drew him a hot bath, undressed him and lowered him into it. She handed him soap and a washcloth, cast a warming charm on the water - and, after dropping a gentle kiss on the top of his head, left him alone with his thoughts.
Hours later, he came to bed, clad in fuzzy pajamas: damp, wrinkled and somewhat recovered from the initial shock. He curled into a small ball on his side of the bed, as far away from Hermione as he could manage.
"Severus," she whispered. "Come here."
"No."
"Yes."
"You can't help, Hermione. You can't change what I did. You can't take the screams away and you can't bring that family back," he said. "I'm sorry for who I am and what I have done. I don't deserve either of you or any of the happiness I've found with you."
"You did what you had to do," she said.
"I know that, but it doesn't help." He took a deep breath. "This is the man you are married to, Hermione. If you can't handle the fact that I have fresh blood on my hands -"
"You did what you had to do," she repeated. "And I think I understand why you have to make sure you are there when this all ends. Just make damn sure that when it is all over, I get my husband back, Severus."
"I'm not sure that he exists anymore," he replied.
I don't expect you to be the young man I married, but I am tired of the drama and the worry. I want our nice, comfortable home, a couple of nice children and a nice, easygoing life. This is your final battle and this is your last crusade."
"Yes. It will be, I promise you that."
She scooted over to his side of the bed and curled up against his still- damp body. Hours later, her soft breathing and the reassuring light from the dawn finally lulled him to sleep.
When he awoke, he found her sitting in a chair pulled up to their bed, still in her nightgown. An open book lay unread in her lap and she was staring out the window at the afternoon sun, stroking her ever-enlarging stomach. He didn't move and instead watched her pensively caress their child for some time.
Finally, her gaze turned to meet his. Wordlessly, she set her book on the nightstand and moved to join him on the bed. She took him in her arms and began kissing his throat and jaw, gently moving to capture his lips.
"Hermione, don't -" he choked.
"Shhhhh," she whispered.
He looked her in the eye and found no revulsion or fear residing in the dark brown depths. Only forgiveness, sadness and love. Swallowing the lump of emotion welling up in his throat, he clung to Hermione like a lost kitten and submitted to her loving ministrations.
Softly, she began removing his pajamas, all the while murmuring words of reassurance and love. Every inch of her husband was caressed with hands and gentle lips before she moved to sit astride him. Locking her eyes with his, she waited until he nodded his permission. Slowly, she grasped him and guided him into her. He gasped and tensed, never taking his black gaze from hers. Tenderly, she made love to him until the tears finally began to stream down his cheeks.
Later, she pulled him into her arms and pillowed his head on her chest. He placed his hand on her stomach and began to skim over its swell, still unable to speak. Suddenly, he felt a small flutter under his hand and his eyes widened in surprise.
"Hermione -" he whispered, his voice roughened by their earlier passion and his continuing distress. "Was that just the baby?"
Hermione stroked his hair back from his face soothingly and smiled down at him.
"Yes, it was."
"There it is again," he said.
They sat quietly taking in the moment. Snape always thought he would be excited the first time he felt her move. But now, the moment held a bittersweet quality that nearly saddened him. He couldn't resist moving his hand against the taut skin of Hermione's belly, however, searching for another elusive 'thump.' He sighed.
"I have been thinking about a name for her, Severus," Hermione said softly. "I think I have come up with the perfect name."
Snape rose up on his elbows and looked at Hermione expectantly. "What have you decided?"
"If you like it too, I'm thinking that the name 'Faith' would be appropriate," said Hermione.
"Faith?" Snape said. A year ago, he would have found the name cloying and very Muggle. This afternoon, it seemed not only appropriate, but the only name for their little girl.
"Faith it is, then," he whispered, trailing his fingers over his daughter. "Faith it is."
Harry and Snape took a deep breath in unison and raised their gazes to meet the furious ones of their other halves. Hermione and Ginny had spent the better part of the last half hour alternating between pleading and screaming fury.
'This is not going well,' mused Harry.
An exhausted Snape decided to try another tactic and sat, pulling Hermione into his lap. He toyed with one of her curls as he again tried to explain why he and Harry were important to the budding Dark Mark plot to a woman who only cared for his safety and well-being.
"No, Severus," interrupted Hermione firmly. "You shouldn't have even gone tonight. I don't want you in any situation that involves Aurors, the Killing Curse and angry Death Eaters. You have risked your life enough. It's time to be a husband and father - not a spy or a hero."
"I agree with Hermione," said Ginny, arms folded. "Harry, you have more than done your part to fight the Dark. In addition, I am barely feeling prepared to have this baby as it is and I sure as hell don't want to do it without you. I can't and I won't. You aren't going."
"We are." Harry said, with Snapelike venom.
Snape looked at Harry in surprise. He had noticed the teen taking a very gentle hand with his fiancée since they had began dating. What Ginny wanted or needed was what Ginny generally got. Harry left no room for argument with his tone or economical words tonight, however.
"We are going, girls, *because* the two of you are pregnant," offered Snape. "We don't want our children to fear the Dark Mark. If we can get rid of Lucius and his minions, then we have no choice but to proceed with the plan. And I am confident the plan will work. I'm sorry, Hermione -"
The discussion was interrupted when Ginny turned and abruptly exited the room, Harry hard on her heels. Hermione followed them with her eyes briefly before standing to look at her husband.
"I do not want you to go," she said simply. "You've paid your debt, you've done your share, you've been the hero, you have already -"
"I killed a woman tonight," interrupted Snape, striding over to the kitchen and rummaging in the cabinets for his whiskey. He took a glass tumbler from another cabinet and conjured a handful of ice before nearly filling the glass with the amber liquid. He took a long drink and shuddered as it hit his already-queasy stomach.
Hermione sat heavily down on the sofa and lighted the fire with her wand. She waited silently for Snape to continue and attempted to control her trembling hands. He leaned his long frame against the kitchen counter, out of her line of sight, and examined his rapidly emptying glass.
"We apparated to a home of a student," he began softly. "Dumbledore is handling the situation as we speak. Muggle parents of a student and the siblings were murdered tonight. I killed the woman."
"Why, Severus?" breathed Hermione. "How could you?"
"She was being raped, Hermione," he said. "I suppose I could have attempted to save her and get us both killed in the process - and probably Draco, too. No matter what I did, she would die. As it was, I saved the potential for the resistance and I saved her possibly a horrific half an hour, but I can't tell you if it was the right thing to do or not. Yet another innocent death on my hands, Hermione. I don't know how many more I can take."
She stood and walked to watch him finish off his impossibly large glass of whiskey. He spent a few more minutes examining the melting ice before roaring in frustration and rage -- throwing the glass against the stone walls of the dining area. He stood quietly - his stare now on the floor.
After nearly a quarter hour had passed, Hermione moved to her husband and, taking his hand, led him upstairs. He stood impassively, yet with fury and pain still sparking in his eyes, as she drew him a hot bath, undressed him and lowered him into it. She handed him soap and a washcloth, cast a warming charm on the water - and, after dropping a gentle kiss on the top of his head, left him alone with his thoughts.
Hours later, he came to bed, clad in fuzzy pajamas: damp, wrinkled and somewhat recovered from the initial shock. He curled into a small ball on his side of the bed, as far away from Hermione as he could manage.
"Severus," she whispered. "Come here."
"No."
"Yes."
"You can't help, Hermione. You can't change what I did. You can't take the screams away and you can't bring that family back," he said. "I'm sorry for who I am and what I have done. I don't deserve either of you or any of the happiness I've found with you."
"You did what you had to do," she said.
"I know that, but it doesn't help." He took a deep breath. "This is the man you are married to, Hermione. If you can't handle the fact that I have fresh blood on my hands -"
"You did what you had to do," she repeated. "And I think I understand why you have to make sure you are there when this all ends. Just make damn sure that when it is all over, I get my husband back, Severus."
"I'm not sure that he exists anymore," he replied.
I don't expect you to be the young man I married, but I am tired of the drama and the worry. I want our nice, comfortable home, a couple of nice children and a nice, easygoing life. This is your final battle and this is your last crusade."
"Yes. It will be, I promise you that."
She scooted over to his side of the bed and curled up against his still- damp body. Hours later, her soft breathing and the reassuring light from the dawn finally lulled him to sleep.
When he awoke, he found her sitting in a chair pulled up to their bed, still in her nightgown. An open book lay unread in her lap and she was staring out the window at the afternoon sun, stroking her ever-enlarging stomach. He didn't move and instead watched her pensively caress their child for some time.
Finally, her gaze turned to meet his. Wordlessly, she set her book on the nightstand and moved to join him on the bed. She took him in her arms and began kissing his throat and jaw, gently moving to capture his lips.
"Hermione, don't -" he choked.
"Shhhhh," she whispered.
He looked her in the eye and found no revulsion or fear residing in the dark brown depths. Only forgiveness, sadness and love. Swallowing the lump of emotion welling up in his throat, he clung to Hermione like a lost kitten and submitted to her loving ministrations.
Softly, she began removing his pajamas, all the while murmuring words of reassurance and love. Every inch of her husband was caressed with hands and gentle lips before she moved to sit astride him. Locking her eyes with his, she waited until he nodded his permission. Slowly, she grasped him and guided him into her. He gasped and tensed, never taking his black gaze from hers. Tenderly, she made love to him until the tears finally began to stream down his cheeks.
Later, she pulled him into her arms and pillowed his head on her chest. He placed his hand on her stomach and began to skim over its swell, still unable to speak. Suddenly, he felt a small flutter under his hand and his eyes widened in surprise.
"Hermione -" he whispered, his voice roughened by their earlier passion and his continuing distress. "Was that just the baby?"
Hermione stroked his hair back from his face soothingly and smiled down at him.
"Yes, it was."
"There it is again," he said.
They sat quietly taking in the moment. Snape always thought he would be excited the first time he felt her move. But now, the moment held a bittersweet quality that nearly saddened him. He couldn't resist moving his hand against the taut skin of Hermione's belly, however, searching for another elusive 'thump.' He sighed.
"I have been thinking about a name for her, Severus," Hermione said softly. "I think I have come up with the perfect name."
Snape rose up on his elbows and looked at Hermione expectantly. "What have you decided?"
"If you like it too, I'm thinking that the name 'Faith' would be appropriate," said Hermione.
"Faith?" Snape said. A year ago, he would have found the name cloying and very Muggle. This afternoon, it seemed not only appropriate, but the only name for their little girl.
"Faith it is, then," he whispered, trailing his fingers over his daughter. "Faith it is."