Disclaimers etc, see part 1

Merry Whatever!

Author's notes: Ok folks.. I believe this is the last one. Next up is the epilogue. Which will
probably be in 2 pieces since there's so much to wrap up. See you then.

Part 45

Severus Snape was wrecked. No. He was sick. Horribly, terrible, gut wrenchingly, nauseatingly
sick. To the point where he actually rolled out of bed and began walking with a brisk pace
towards the bathroom. Around three paces later, he stepped it up to a brisk jog, followed shortly
by a dead run.

He had a scant few seconds to appreciate the plush throw rug with the always-dry charm that
shielded his bare legs from the cold tile floor. Those few seconds, however, ended as he became
intimately acquainted with the inside of his toilet bowl.

Between the excursions his stomach kept trying to take through his esophagus he noted that it
was a very nice toilet. The color evenly covered the base and did not fade in spots. It was also
well maintained and very clean looking, at least it had been when he first got there. He was in the
middle of thinking up a good reward for the house elves when his stomach decided to take
another tour.

Harry appeared somewhere in the middle, but he was too busy trying to aim in the correct general
direction that he couldn't be sure as to when he had actually arrived. A cold wash cloth was
applied to the back of his neck, it was oddly calming. And the new sensation distracted him from
his churning belly. He leaned back into a warm embrace and Harry shifted the cloth to rest on his
temple.

A glass was held to his lips, "Sip." Said a quiet voice. "Just wash the taste out, spit into the
toilet."

He weakly did as he was told, glad to remove the acid taste from the back of his throat. They sat
there for a few minutes... just breathing deeply, silently thanking the person who invented the
smell-be-gone charm for toilets.

"Stomach calmer?" Harry asked.

He nodded mutely.

"Good." he raised the cup back to Severus' lips. "Sip, this time you can swallow."

He did just that. Taking shallow bits of water into his mouth, savoring the cool, flavorless liquid
as it slid down his abused system.

He wasn't sure how it happened, the annoying whelp must have taken advantage of his weakened
state. But someone he found himself, once again, at Poppy's not so tender mercies. She poked
and prodded and asked numerous invasive questions that if he didn't answer Harry would simply
speak up. Damned spell.

An hour later, feeling throughly violated in more ways than he had in years, Poppy abruptly left
them alone to contemplate the stark white walls of the infirmary. They had fallen into an
uncharacteristically tense silence. Well, only so far as that this one was, for once, not sexually
charged. He was too damn tired for that.

Poppy returned a few minutes later with a bottle, which was shoved unceremoniously into his
hands with a terse, "Drink."

He did, without question, another testament to how bad he must have been feeling. Immediately
he felt the affects, more energy, the last of the nausea gone, various parts of his body that had
been complaining stopped.

"What was wrong?" Asked Harry.

Poppy just shook her head and tsked. "I told Albus this could happen."

A bit of anxiety started in his stomach and gave way to a feeling of absolute dread. He had an
inkling of what Poppy might be referring to; he himself had had similar ideas, but had dismissed
them out of hand as ridiculous and highly improbable.

"Just tell me, woman." He finally ground out.

She appeared to think about how to say it and his hopes for an overactive imagination were
sinking lower and lower. "Well Severus... It seems... It seems that you're pregnant."

"WHAT?!" Harry practically shrieked. "But... but... that's not possible! How is that possible!"

"Yes," he seethed, "And while you're explaining that, please go on tell us why you saw fit to not
inform us of ALL of the possible consequences?"

Poppy wasn't afraid of him, she looked him squarely in the eye and answered, "We thought it was
such a remote possibility that it wasn't even worth discussing."

"Not worth discussion?" Quiet rage moved on to loud anger, "And how often does the nearly
impossible happen in this infernal castle on a daily basis?! Not to mention the daft idea that *if* it
*did* happen that I would WANT to carry a child to term!" He was just getting started when the
black spots appeared before his eyes. The world swam and went black...

...only to come alive again with 2 sharp screams, dark rooms, tangles, sweat soaked sheets, and a
second harshly panting body next to his.

A dream??

A BLOODY dream??

More like a bloody nightmare!

"Stop thinking so loud." Harry muttered next to him, "and I agree."

Severus sighed and covered his face with his hands, "Oh don't tell me, you had the dream too."

"Yup. Right there with you from morning sickness to Poppy's wonderful announcement."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "My life is steadily becoming the stuff of torture chambers."

Harry smacked him in the ribs, "Would you stop acting like this is the only affecting you."

Not bothering to open his eyes, he asked, "Please enlighten me as to your hardship."

"Well, there's the same loss of privacy, loss off control, loss of choice, having been manipulated
by the loveable old coot. Also, while your dreams are pretty damned weird, mine are going to be a
site more... unseemly."

He propped himself up on his elbows, "Potter, what on earth happened to your vocabulary?"

Harry tapped him on the nose, "What did I tell you about using my last name in bed?"

Severus rolled his eyes.

"So what was that about, anyway?" Harry asked, obviously referring to the dream.

"We're married," he almost avoided the involuntary shudder, "and quite unexpectedly it only
makes sense that the mind would supply even more ungainly surprises in a related thread and
throw them at us." He let his arms straighten again and he slid back down to the bed with a sigh.

"You're sad." Harry murmured in surprise.

"Not sad." He protested.

"Fine then, melancholy." Harry traced his fingers lightly down Severus' arm. "Why?"

"Even if I did not want it, the thought of creating a life, is not a wholly unappealing one." He
answered, knowing that Harry would simply drag it out of him if he kept avoiding the issue.
"Someone to be proud of, to raise and teach what I deem is important from the start."

"To love you unconditionally." Harry whispered.

"Don't be foolish." He spat.

Harry reached across him and planted soft pliant lips against his own.

Involuntarily he responded, dragging the younger body across himself. They broke apart breathing
rapidly, "It's a nice thought, a romanticized notion. I said it would be nice, I never said I actually
*wanted* the little brats. Now that I know the situation wasn't real I can value its, barely
recognizable, merits. I'd like to think that my supposed children wouldn't be as loathsome as the
ones that appear in my potions class on a regular basis."

This time Harry rolled his eyes and dove back in for another kiss. They continued in that fashion
for a few minutes before Severus firmly pushed Harry away. "We will not submit to our
hormones."

Harry gave him a look.

An exasperated sigh. "Yet."

Harry smirked.

"How are you fairing with the Castle?" He said, ignoring Harry.

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, "Better. I'm not exhausted anymore." He thrust his hip at
him as proof.

Severus' eyes briefly rolled to the back of his head before regaining his equilibrium. "Have you
noticed anything unusual?"

Harry settled himself more firmly against him and answered, "Other than knowing the shortest
route from here to the other side of the castle and the faint feeling that it finds the antics of its
inhabitants amusing, no." He began exploring the skin of Severus' neck.

It was getting harder to concentrate. "I...*aah*... noticed that... *ooh*" his eyes rolled up into his
head again, "..stop that..." he hissed. "I noticed that we're not feeling each other's experiences as
intensely. If my reaction to you being hit with a bludger was any judge, I had expected to be more
*aah*" he hissed as Harry found a particularly sensitive spot, "...more affected by the castle."

Still nuzzling Severus' neck, Harry spoke, "Yes... I noticed that. I think, our," He took a good
lick, "Wedding night," he smirked, "stabilized something. I have to actually try to invade your
privacy."

Severus was momentarily distracted by the audacity, "TRY?"

Harry licked his ear, "Not on purpose, but I have to want the information instead of it just... being
there."

Severus grabbed both of Harry's arms, shifted his feet so that they were flat against the bed and
rolled. He landed between Harry's legs, shifting just enough to send sparks of pleasure coursing
through both of them.

It was Harry's turn have his eyes roll back.

"Listen to me Harry." Severus thrust, "We. Will. Have. This. Conversation. Now." He said the
words with a menacing glare and it would have worked if he hadn't punctuated each one with
another thrust.

They were both panting harshly. Bright green eyes met black ones and Severus gave up and
pounced.

Sometime later, they were both much more relaxed.

"Now, what did you want to talk to me about?" Harry asked lazily.

"I should let you go in unprepared." He said.

"Go where?"

"The press conference." Severus would have smirked at the look on Harry's face, if he hadn't
understood where it had come from completely.
______

The room was full. Full of drooling, salivating, hungry, vicious reporters. It was enough to make
even Severus Snape quake in his boots.

Of course, he was too much of a professional to do so. Though, it didn't stop Harry from
smirking knowingly. Should just walk out. Let the brat defend himself.

The moment the door opened, the throng of glassy eyed, headline seeking reporters followed their
every move. Out of curiosity and a little bit of malicious cruelty, he picked up an errant quill
laying on the podium. He idly twirled it in his fingers then passed it to his other hand and
seemingly nonchalantly proceeded to never leave it on place for more than a few seconds. The
reporters looked like they were watching some sort of demented squash match.

Finally he'd had enough and delaying any longer would simply mean that the task was no done, so
he began. "I have been told that it would be polite to thank you for coming, however, since I am
neither polite, nor am I happy that you are here, I think we can dispense with that formality."

The group as one went from ecstatic frenzy to merely excited.

He continued, "I will make a brief statement and then you may ask questions," with a raised
eyebrow he gave his audience a warning look, "Do try not to annoy me."

Excited gave way to hoping they could write a story without getting fired or maimed.

"Two days ago Albus Dumbledore was killed defending this school. During that time Cornelius,"
he made an effort not to sneer too badly while saying his name, "Fudge also... perished. I cannot
say much more than that because the ministry is still rather... disorganized and we have not had
the chance to discuss," this time he did sneer, "the incident in question fully." He took a deep
breath, "So I cannot answer most of your questions." Oh that was fun. They looked like he'd
cancelled Christmas.

Continuing on, "As for the subject of the next headmaster, there have been numerous discussions
but nothing has been finalized. So I cannot comment on that either." Even better, they had that
kicked puppy look now.

Now for the most painful part, "As to my supposed marriage to one Harry Potter," another deep
breath, "It is true." Damn they looked happy again. He opened his arms in a welcoming gesture,
"Please, ask your questions." It would have almost been a warm gesture, if he hadn't been silently
daring them to piss him off.

One daring reporter in the front row started, "I notice that you're the one making the statement,
does that mean the Minerva McGonagall is somehow incapacitated?"

He looked down his nose, "Your powers of observation astound me, its not wonder that you're a
reporter. The reason I am making this statement is simple, we flipped a coin, I lost."

Let them chew on that.

Another one spoke up, "It seems like you have very little information, why are you making this
statement now?"

Glaring menacingly, he responded, "Let's not pretend we don't know why all of you are here, be
adults about this, I know exactly why you are here and which part of my statement you were most
desiring to here. Simply, despite the fact that its none of your business, you're going to write
about it anyway, I might as well provide you with the correct facts. I'm warning you now, one
quote out of context and" he lowered his head and glared at each and every one of them, "you
will never write again." he said each word with the type of precision that left no doubt in their
minds that he didn't mean they would be out of a job.

"Do you have any comment on the story that the Daily Prophet ran a few days ago?" Someone
from the middle asked.

There was a startled silence, while every eye in the place went to his wand hand, for fun, he
twitched. He'd have to ask the mutt later which ones wet themselves.

"I will use the words of Albus Dumbledore, 'it is surprisingly accurate and tasteful' a feat that I'm
sure will not be repeated any time soon." He looked balefully over the crowd, "However, if I ever
find out how that information was leaked, I will be a very happy man, others however, will not."

More startled silence, then, "How does Mr. Potter feel about this?" the same daring one as before.

"How would I know?" he asked, being stubborn.

"I'd assumed you'd talked between bouts of uncontrollable shagging." The anonymous voice
drawled.

Damnit! Where was that reporter. He couldn't hex him if he didn't know where he was!

"If any of you know what's good for you, you'll give up your compatriot now, or I stop the
questions." He glared at them for several seconds before the crowd parted leaving slightly
uncomfortable but still confident looking young man. "There, that's better, I always prefer being
insulted to my face. It makes revenge easier."

The young man raised his chin defiantly. "It was decent question, you're the one who refused to
answer."

Was there steam coming out of his ears? It certainly felt like there should be. He ground his teeth
together and answered, "I dare say, Mr. Potter's feelings are similar to mine."

"Who knew he had feelings." Someone muttered.

"I heard that," he said without turning his head, "10 point from Ravenclaw."

"But I don't go here anymore!" the young reporter protested.

"I know, but your brother does." That shut them up, he continued, "As I was saying, Mr. Potter's
feelings are similar to my own, we loathe the lack of control and privacy that this has brought
upon both of us, beyond that," he took the time to glare directly at several people, "it's none of
your business."

"Are you planning on staying married?" From another brave soul in the middle.

He raised an eyebrow, "Now do you really think I'm going to give you that sort of satisfaction?"
he watched their faces fall, excellent. "Now, I have no more time for this childish excuse of an
exercise. Please leave the grounds immediately before I set some of Hagrid's nastier excuses for
lesson plans on the lot of you." With that, he swept away and out of the room.

On the other side of the door, he found Harry, collapsed on the floor, tears in his eyes.

"What's the matter now, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked up at him, clearly still laughing, "You have a great act, you should tour." he
managed to get out before collapsing again.

He had just enough time to raise an eyebrow before he was attacked by several stones of Harry
Potter. A breathless, "And what did I tell you about using my last name?" was whispered in his
ear.

"Oh, and since when was this a bed?" he asked, pointedly ignoring the wiggling body on top of
him.

Harry pulled back and smirked, "Use your imagination," and pounced.

Maybe the day wasn't so bad after all.

TBC...

Heh... hehehe. Hehehehehehhe.