"Dammit!"
Crash!
Hermione cautiously poked her head into the potions classroom and looked around for her husband, who was most assuredly the cause of the swearing and the noise. She found him sitting dejectedly on the floor, an overturned cauldron dripping silently nearby.
"What's the matter, love?" she said, almost afraid to know the answer.
"It didn't work, Hermione. I have been over and over our notes and it isn't working. I can't reverse the enchantment. We need Voldemort's original notes," he sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
"It's two in the morning, love," she said, moving to him and offering him a hand up. "Time for good future daddies to go to sleep. Or at least come to bed and service their wives."
He looked at her expectantly. One eyebrow raised slowly.
"Do you mean 'service' as in shagging like a couple of teenagers, or do you mean you really just want another backrub?" he asked, grinning.
"I'd love another backrub, if you're offering," she said, pulling his hand and leading him out of the room and down the corridor. "But the shagging sounds good, too. I think you need to release some tension, don't you?"
Snape nodded and waved open the door to their rooms with his wand. He swiftly picked his wife up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom, laughing when she swatted at his arm and accused him of reading her romance novel stash once again. In scant minutes, she was in his bed, lying on her side and arching into him as he awkwardly and gently thrust into her from behind. It wasn't exactly the most romantic way to make love, he mused, but it was the only semi-comfortable angle she could stand with the way the baby was currently sitting. Frustrated, he shifted and attempted to get some feeling back in his left leg. She smiled and placed a hand behind her on his cheek while leaning her head back to whisper words of encouragement to him and words of lust to drive him on. He stopped for a moment, panting and chuckling.
"There has to be a better way to do this," he breathed. "We're wizards, surely there is some levitation charm or -- something! My old body just wasn't meant to have a pregnant young, lusty wife."
"Most men your age would kill for a young wife," teased Hermione. "And besides, I've heard that this type of position is fun - a lot of people like it. It's even in that kinky sex manual that Ron sent us for Easter." Snape rolled his eyes and grinned at his wife.
"Merlin, you must need to be a contortionist for the last three months of pregnancy. Hermione, I can't even kiss you properly from this angle," he pouted.
Hermione just laughed and began their strange rhythm again. Moments later, Snape abruptly stopped again.
"Now what?" she asked.
"I love you, Hermione," he said, wisely deciding to not proceed with his complaints and whining.
"You'd better," she said, smiling. "Now, service me, husband."
She felt, rather than saw his grin.
"Yes, ma'am!"
The next morning a sore, yet reasonably relaxed, Snape returned to the potions classroom to find his mess cleaned up. Draco Malfoy was already there, sitting at the worktable, sullenly munching a muffin taken from a plate in front of him that was piled with a variety of them. Snape joined him at the table and helped himself to a chocolate chip muffin. He waited for Draco to speak.
"No luck last night?" Draco asked.
"Depends upon your definition of 'lucky,'" smirked Snape.
"Ugh, yuck, there are things I don't need to ever visualize," growled Draco. "The thought of you and Granger in bed together is one of them. I need to go wash my brain now."
Snape smiled at his student and understood what he was saying under the joking words.
"It will get easier, Draco. I promise someday this will be behind you and you can be as happy as Hermione and I are," he said. "You don't think so now, but you are one the right side of this battle, and sometimes good intentions -"
"I know, I know," said Draco, a bit hatefully. "Sometimes the end justifies the means. Do you think that when you kill a Muggle woman who is being raped? Are you really trying to save them or is it just your way of slipping in a little murderous fun?"
Snape sat shocked for a moment and looked at the boy he had been attempting to reassure. Fighting the urge to throttle him, he settled on hissing at him with as just as much hate.
"Yes, Draco, in those particular cases, the end justifies the means," he spat. "They were already destined to die and I could prevent their last moments from being filled with rape and abuse. A more humane death is all I can give -"
"Humane? There is nothing humane about murder. Or rape. You said you'd never raped a woman - do you have any idea what it does to them? The look in her eyes, Snape. Her spirit was dead before I ever killed her body. I'll never forget it, I'll never stop seeing her eyes. So keep your comforts and your soothing lectures to yourself. You haven't been there and - You bastard, you have no fucking idea what you are talking about."
Snape sat quietly for a moment, staring at Draco.
"Draco, I have a very clear idea of what I am talking about."
Draco snorted and glared at Snape. "You've already said that you never - "
Snape interrupted Draco with a sharp look, abruptly stood and moved to the cauldrons that were bubbling in a hypnotic and soothing pulse. He stood silent for a moment before turning to look at Draco.
"I told you I was punished by the Death Eaters for refusing to rape that Muggle woman all those years ago," he began, looking at the boy's right shoulder instead of into his eyes.
"Yes, but -"
"How do *you* think they punished me, Draco?"
Icy blue eyes met black and held for a long moment. Snape then returned to his inspection of the cauldrons.
"I'm sorry, Professor," stammered Draco. "I didn't realize that was what you meant."
"It was a long time ago, Draco," sighed Snape. "And please, don't mention it to anyone. As Hermione has been pregnant since her return, I have decided to wait to tell her about the incident and some other horrors of my Death Eater and spy days. I'm afraid it would be too much for her right now."
Draco nodded and suddenly began rummaging through his book bag.
"My point was," continued Snape, "that you can't dwell in the horrors of the past, you can only live through them and then get past them. Hermione and I have a good marriage and I believe that once this business with your father is over, we will be happy. We have been through a lot -- we deserve to be happy. You have been through a lot already, Draco - and you deserve to be happy too. Just remember, it will take some time. Don't push yourself."
"And don't turn into a bastard like me," smirked Snape, in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Draco offered up a grin to the potions master as he pulled a burlap wrapped parcel from his bag. Snape looked at it curiously as Draco pulled the rough cloth away from the thick book.
"Voldemort's journal," breathed Snape. "The Dark Mark information is in that book. How on earth did you get it?"
"Hermione owled me last night and said you were stuck. I took a chance and told my father I had an idea to improve the Mark's powers, but that you and I would need to look at the original book," shrugged Draco. "So he gave it to me."
Snape walked to the table and sat next to Draco, eagerly beginning to skim through the information with him. Moments later, Snape slammed his hand down on the table, causing muffins to fly and Draco to jump. He excitedly pointed to a paragraph and a picture in the text and grinned a decidedly wicked and vile Professor Snape grin.
"This is it, Draco," he said. "By midnight, we will have the potion ready to go. Go get Dumbledore and owl the rest of the group. We need all hands on deck tonight if we are going to make up more than 100 vials of the potion."
He smiled at Draco and clapped him on the shoulder enthusiastically.
"It is almost over, my boy," he said. "And then, we can have our lives back."
Hours later, the 'la resistance' gang was gathered around Snape and Hermione, anxiously waiting for a small vial of crimson potion to cool. Hermione tested the temperature with her wand and, satisfied, handed it to her husband. Snape brought the vial to his lips with shaking hands and drank its contents quickly, grimacing at the taste.
Moments later, Snape was on the cold, stone floor, writhing in pain and clawing at his forearm wildly. Waving Hermione and the others away as they attempted to offer him comfort or assistance, he curled up into a ball on the floor. He pressed his forehead onto the cool surface and moaned.
Minutes later, the pain had passed and they were gathered around Snape once again, inspecting his arm. His forearm was the bright red of a severe burn and appeared to be blistering where the outline had been. However, the Dark Mark was gone.
Hours later, nearly 100 vials of the narcotic-laced and strongly calming Mark potion were filled, bottled and ready to go. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the group for a moment before he crossed the room to Snape and drew him into a tender, grandfatherly hug. Snape bristled for a moment at the old man's attempted affection and offer of truce, before awkwardly returning the embrace. In his ear, he heard the old wizard whisper:
"Never disappointed in you, my son. I could never be disappointed in you."
Crash!
Hermione cautiously poked her head into the potions classroom and looked around for her husband, who was most assuredly the cause of the swearing and the noise. She found him sitting dejectedly on the floor, an overturned cauldron dripping silently nearby.
"What's the matter, love?" she said, almost afraid to know the answer.
"It didn't work, Hermione. I have been over and over our notes and it isn't working. I can't reverse the enchantment. We need Voldemort's original notes," he sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
"It's two in the morning, love," she said, moving to him and offering him a hand up. "Time for good future daddies to go to sleep. Or at least come to bed and service their wives."
He looked at her expectantly. One eyebrow raised slowly.
"Do you mean 'service' as in shagging like a couple of teenagers, or do you mean you really just want another backrub?" he asked, grinning.
"I'd love another backrub, if you're offering," she said, pulling his hand and leading him out of the room and down the corridor. "But the shagging sounds good, too. I think you need to release some tension, don't you?"
Snape nodded and waved open the door to their rooms with his wand. He swiftly picked his wife up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom, laughing when she swatted at his arm and accused him of reading her romance novel stash once again. In scant minutes, she was in his bed, lying on her side and arching into him as he awkwardly and gently thrust into her from behind. It wasn't exactly the most romantic way to make love, he mused, but it was the only semi-comfortable angle she could stand with the way the baby was currently sitting. Frustrated, he shifted and attempted to get some feeling back in his left leg. She smiled and placed a hand behind her on his cheek while leaning her head back to whisper words of encouragement to him and words of lust to drive him on. He stopped for a moment, panting and chuckling.
"There has to be a better way to do this," he breathed. "We're wizards, surely there is some levitation charm or -- something! My old body just wasn't meant to have a pregnant young, lusty wife."
"Most men your age would kill for a young wife," teased Hermione. "And besides, I've heard that this type of position is fun - a lot of people like it. It's even in that kinky sex manual that Ron sent us for Easter." Snape rolled his eyes and grinned at his wife.
"Merlin, you must need to be a contortionist for the last three months of pregnancy. Hermione, I can't even kiss you properly from this angle," he pouted.
Hermione just laughed and began their strange rhythm again. Moments later, Snape abruptly stopped again.
"Now what?" she asked.
"I love you, Hermione," he said, wisely deciding to not proceed with his complaints and whining.
"You'd better," she said, smiling. "Now, service me, husband."
She felt, rather than saw his grin.
"Yes, ma'am!"
The next morning a sore, yet reasonably relaxed, Snape returned to the potions classroom to find his mess cleaned up. Draco Malfoy was already there, sitting at the worktable, sullenly munching a muffin taken from a plate in front of him that was piled with a variety of them. Snape joined him at the table and helped himself to a chocolate chip muffin. He waited for Draco to speak.
"No luck last night?" Draco asked.
"Depends upon your definition of 'lucky,'" smirked Snape.
"Ugh, yuck, there are things I don't need to ever visualize," growled Draco. "The thought of you and Granger in bed together is one of them. I need to go wash my brain now."
Snape smiled at his student and understood what he was saying under the joking words.
"It will get easier, Draco. I promise someday this will be behind you and you can be as happy as Hermione and I are," he said. "You don't think so now, but you are one the right side of this battle, and sometimes good intentions -"
"I know, I know," said Draco, a bit hatefully. "Sometimes the end justifies the means. Do you think that when you kill a Muggle woman who is being raped? Are you really trying to save them or is it just your way of slipping in a little murderous fun?"
Snape sat shocked for a moment and looked at the boy he had been attempting to reassure. Fighting the urge to throttle him, he settled on hissing at him with as just as much hate.
"Yes, Draco, in those particular cases, the end justifies the means," he spat. "They were already destined to die and I could prevent their last moments from being filled with rape and abuse. A more humane death is all I can give -"
"Humane? There is nothing humane about murder. Or rape. You said you'd never raped a woman - do you have any idea what it does to them? The look in her eyes, Snape. Her spirit was dead before I ever killed her body. I'll never forget it, I'll never stop seeing her eyes. So keep your comforts and your soothing lectures to yourself. You haven't been there and - You bastard, you have no fucking idea what you are talking about."
Snape sat quietly for a moment, staring at Draco.
"Draco, I have a very clear idea of what I am talking about."
Draco snorted and glared at Snape. "You've already said that you never - "
Snape interrupted Draco with a sharp look, abruptly stood and moved to the cauldrons that were bubbling in a hypnotic and soothing pulse. He stood silent for a moment before turning to look at Draco.
"I told you I was punished by the Death Eaters for refusing to rape that Muggle woman all those years ago," he began, looking at the boy's right shoulder instead of into his eyes.
"Yes, but -"
"How do *you* think they punished me, Draco?"
Icy blue eyes met black and held for a long moment. Snape then returned to his inspection of the cauldrons.
"I'm sorry, Professor," stammered Draco. "I didn't realize that was what you meant."
"It was a long time ago, Draco," sighed Snape. "And please, don't mention it to anyone. As Hermione has been pregnant since her return, I have decided to wait to tell her about the incident and some other horrors of my Death Eater and spy days. I'm afraid it would be too much for her right now."
Draco nodded and suddenly began rummaging through his book bag.
"My point was," continued Snape, "that you can't dwell in the horrors of the past, you can only live through them and then get past them. Hermione and I have a good marriage and I believe that once this business with your father is over, we will be happy. We have been through a lot -- we deserve to be happy. You have been through a lot already, Draco - and you deserve to be happy too. Just remember, it will take some time. Don't push yourself."
"And don't turn into a bastard like me," smirked Snape, in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Draco offered up a grin to the potions master as he pulled a burlap wrapped parcel from his bag. Snape looked at it curiously as Draco pulled the rough cloth away from the thick book.
"Voldemort's journal," breathed Snape. "The Dark Mark information is in that book. How on earth did you get it?"
"Hermione owled me last night and said you were stuck. I took a chance and told my father I had an idea to improve the Mark's powers, but that you and I would need to look at the original book," shrugged Draco. "So he gave it to me."
Snape walked to the table and sat next to Draco, eagerly beginning to skim through the information with him. Moments later, Snape slammed his hand down on the table, causing muffins to fly and Draco to jump. He excitedly pointed to a paragraph and a picture in the text and grinned a decidedly wicked and vile Professor Snape grin.
"This is it, Draco," he said. "By midnight, we will have the potion ready to go. Go get Dumbledore and owl the rest of the group. We need all hands on deck tonight if we are going to make up more than 100 vials of the potion."
He smiled at Draco and clapped him on the shoulder enthusiastically.
"It is almost over, my boy," he said. "And then, we can have our lives back."
Hours later, the 'la resistance' gang was gathered around Snape and Hermione, anxiously waiting for a small vial of crimson potion to cool. Hermione tested the temperature with her wand and, satisfied, handed it to her husband. Snape brought the vial to his lips with shaking hands and drank its contents quickly, grimacing at the taste.
Moments later, Snape was on the cold, stone floor, writhing in pain and clawing at his forearm wildly. Waving Hermione and the others away as they attempted to offer him comfort or assistance, he curled up into a ball on the floor. He pressed his forehead onto the cool surface and moaned.
Minutes later, the pain had passed and they were gathered around Snape once again, inspecting his arm. His forearm was the bright red of a severe burn and appeared to be blistering where the outline had been. However, the Dark Mark was gone.
Hours later, nearly 100 vials of the narcotic-laced and strongly calming Mark potion were filled, bottled and ready to go. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the group for a moment before he crossed the room to Snape and drew him into a tender, grandfatherly hug. Snape bristled for a moment at the old man's attempted affection and offer of truce, before awkwardly returning the embrace. In his ear, he heard the old wizard whisper:
"Never disappointed in you, my son. I could never be disappointed in you."