Chapter Sixty-two

Harry rubbed Araminta's shoulders as she stirred the potion. His hair was messy and he had a happy smile on his face. "Are you sure you won't tell me who you're making that for?" he murmured into her hair.

"Nope," replied Araminta, snuggling back against his broad, muscular chest (he was cut from years of playing Quidditch).

"Pleeeeeeease?" Harry wheedled. "I'll keep it a secret."

"It already is a secret, Harry," Araminta said. "If I tell you, it won't be a secret anymore. Also, it's a matter of life and death that two people get together." She turned around and put a hand to his cheek. "Please trust me, and please don't ask me again."

"All right." Harry put his hand over hers. "But only because I love you so much."

They kissed passionately for ten minutes, until a knock was heard at the door. It was Snape!

"Quick, into the closet!" Araminta pushed Harry towards the other side of the room, but it was too late! The door was opening! Harry dove under the bed just in time.

"Oh, did I leave that unlocked?" Araminta giggled. "Silly me." She walked over to the vanity to distract Snape--she didn't want to get caught with a boy in her room!

"It's getting worse," Snape said, ignoring what she had said. He sat down on the bed heavily and Araminta heard Harry give out a squeak as he was squished underneath. "Come see."

Araminta put her hand on his STOMACH, as she had the other day. Blake was kicking like there was no tomorrow. "He's going to be a soccer player, that's for sure. How much longer until he's born?"

"I don't know," Snape admitted. "My dad never wanted to talk about this sort of thing, and most other men don't want to talk about their wizarding pregnancies. They just shudder and say 'never again,' usually."

"And the morning sickness?"

"That's better, actually. None today. Actually, I came to speak to you about this Friday's Quidditch match. You are aware that you are a member of both teams?"

"That's what Madam Hooch said," Araminta said uncertainly. "I've been wondering about what I'm supposed to do. We've been so busy this week that there hasn't been time to practice, and--"

"And you've never practiced with Slytherin House at all," Snape finished for her. "Professor McGonagall and I will be meeting with Madam Hooch and the headmaster tomorrow afternoon to determine what position you will play in the match. I know that I don't have to tell you that we expect complete loyalty--to both sides."

"Ye-ye-yessir," Araminta stuttered. She was starting to get a little bit scared--not just because of all the things that could go wrong with the Quidditch tournament, but because Harry was still trapped underneath the bed. It was dusty down there, and she wasn't sure if he could breathe with Snape on top. "Is there anything else?" she asked, hoping that this would be a hint to Snape that it was time to leave.

"No, nothing else," Snape sighed. "Thanks for talking to Pansy, by the way. We've talked, and I'll be taking Blake to her parents' house after he's born. They'll take care of him, and she'll be able to see him. He'll be safe there."

"That's wonderful." Araminta beamed. "I'm glad everything is working out...and I hope you and Pansy will be able to work things out, too."

Snape sighed again. "The world is against us. I'll ask her to marry me once she graduates, if she's still in love with me then. Anyway, I must be going."

As soon as she closed (and locked, this time) the door behind Snape, Harry came rolling out from underneath the bed, sputtering and coughing and covered in a fine layer of dust. "I suppose I'll have to keep that a secret too?"