Moon River
Chapter Four
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By your ever-so-not-having-a-life author, Alicia/Jaimes :)
-
Two days after her doctor's appointment -
Professor Snape,
I thank you for your last correspondence. I agree with your statement...what was it you said? "At times I can be an insensitive blockhead, and I understand if you wanted to hex off my manhood while you were my student."
We need to meet to discuss something very important. Please meet me at my home (411 Winchester, London) at 7:30 tonight.
Sincerely,
Hermione E. Granger
Miss Granger,
I will be there. Allow me to bring dinner?
Sincerely, S. Snape
Professor Snape,
I would be most appreciative. I'll cover desert. Just no alcohol, okay?
Hermione E. Granger
Hermione was greatful for his offer to bring dinner. After two days in the hospital, she was feeling better than she did before, but still was slightly dizzy from time to time. Making dinner would have been difficult. She supposed that the dizzy feeling was not because of her dehydration, but because of the baby.
She paused in the midst of mixing cake batter to lay a hand on her tummy. She couldn't really tell a difference, but she still knew there was a tiny life in there. Was she ready for this? No. She knew that much. But she had seven and a half months to get ready, she supposed.
She hadn't had much time to think - while hospitalized she hadn't done much more than sleep, truth be told. While she felt much better physically, her mental state was in turmoil. What would Snape think? Would he want anything to do with this child? Would he want her to abort it? Would he want full custody?
Too much thinking, not enough mixing... She began mixing the cake in earnest now.
Oh Gods. What am I going to tell my boys...? What will Harry and Ron think? The two of them had abhorred Snape in school...for that matter, she had too. His snide remarks, his impossible assignments...And now she was having his child. Oh God. What if her child was just as snide and snippy as he was?
Must...concentrate...on...present...task! She finished mixing up the cake - a very simple homemade chocolate cake, to be iced with chocolate icing she'd made earlier - and put it in the oven to bake. Soon her house smelled like chocolate, making it seem even homier than she thought possible. While she loved her home, sometimes it didn't seem real...it didn't seem like it was really hers. It was always clean and pristine, and it reminded her of a showroom. There was nothing terribly personal, except for a few elegantly framed photos of herself, Harry, and Ron.
How personal would this all look with baby toys strewn about? How personal would it be when that baby began to walk and crawl and pull breakable things down off of tables and shelves?
Hermione looked at the clock...How did it get to be six o clock? She ran upstairs to get ready.
-----
After a hot shower, some quick hair-drying, and a lot of lotion (she'd heard about how if you put on lots of lotion, it prevented stretch marks, so she was starting early) she felt about as ready to meet Severus Snape and tell him she was bearing his child as a mouse was ready to meet its' death by being ripped apart by a cat.
She pondered over exactly what to say while arranging her hair back away from her face with some tortoiseshell clips her mother had left her.
"Lovely weather, isn't it? I wonder what it will be like next year, this time, with the baby and all. Oh, didn't I tell you?"
"Did you not think to use a contraceptive spell? Or were you too busy enjoying it?"
"You mean you've still got it at...how old are you now?"
She'd never been gifted with words, she mused, frowning as one lone tendril struggled out of her coif. Her hair could never be perfect. Then again, nothing about her was perfect, really. Her now even more rapidly expanding waistline, for one. Her hair, somewhere between curly and wavy (she'd blown it out straight for tonight) for another.
So what, exactly, do I do correctly? Hermione thought to herself, applying thin layers of powder, blush, and brown hues of eyeshadow, along with a bit of eyeliner and mascara. Just as she was putting on her clothes, the doorbell rang.
"Be right down," she called. She wore a black tank top underneath a white throwover shawl, along with white-with-black-pinstripes pants, and what looked like very, very painful stiletto heels. She grabbed at the first pair of earrings she saw - black bead chadelliers - and put them in as she was walking/running/jumping (though not for excitement) down the stairs.
"Severus." She greeted him warmly, even though she would have just as soon have wished she was screaming at him for not being experienced with condoms. "Do come in."
"Thank you, it's beginning to rain out there..." Snape set down a large covered basket to remove his jacket. Hermione helped him out of it and hung it in the foyer. Still attempting polite conversation (very uncharacteristic of Snape, of course), he glanced around his surroundings. "You have a beautiful home, Hermione."
"Well, thank you," said a flattered Hermione. "I'm glad you like it," she said then, genuinely. "Now, I have a cake in the oven I must take out, accompany me to the kitchen?"
"Certainly," he said, taking her arm and letting her lead him around the spacious house. "What sort of cake is this?"
"Oh, just chocolate from scratch. Sorry, I've been rather ill, as of late, and I kept it simple." Hermione grinned at him apologetically.
"On the contrary, Miss Granger," said Snape smoothly, "I happen to love chocolate cake. But only, and only, with chocolate icing."
"Then you're in luck," she said, smiling. She took the cake out of the oven and set it on a rack to cool, so she could later ice it.
"Would you like to eat dinner now, and talk later, or talk now?" Snape conjured the food-laden basket and set it on the table, and drew out a chair for her. She sat gratefully. All of her baking and preparing herself for his arrival had worn her out. "It is up to you, Hermione."
"May we talk now?" she pleaded. "I know we may not be in the mood for eats afterward, but...but I feel as if I don't talk now, I won't have the nerve to tell you."
"Tell me what?" Snape took her hand. "Hermione, you can tell me anything. I swear, I won't abandon you or leave you alone. And I won't go blabbing it around to the world like Potter and Weasley sometimes are prone to do."
Hermione laughed weakly. "Sometimes, you have those two to a T."
Snape smiled. "I've been teaching a good many years, my dear. I observe you students from the time you get off that train to the time you board the Hogwarts Express for the last time...I know each and every one of you." He grew more serious. "Hermione, please. Please tell me what's wrong."
Hermione's eyes were starting to get liquidy. Her chin wobbled, and when she spoke, her voice was gravelly with sorrow. "I'm trying. I'm really trying, and I want to, but...but..."
"But what, Hermione?"
"It involves you too," she got out in a rush, before tears spilled over. "I'm...I'm...I'm..."
"Miss Granger..."
"I'm pregnant, Severus."
Hermione began sobbing in earnest now. She laid her head in her arms, which rested on the table, and let out all her pent-up emotions. It was as if she had tapped into a never-ending river of sorrow, grief, and even anger. So sure was she that Severus would leave that she jumped when he pulled her into his arms. Quickly though, she relaxed, and sobbed with relief that he wasn't leaving - at least not yet.
-----
My God. What could I have been thinking? Granted I haven't had sex in many years, but surely I could have remembered to cast a contraceptive spell... Severus wanted to bang his head on the table in frustration, but he didn't, knowing it would upset Hermione. He smoothed her hair, trying to comfort her as he held her in his lap.
Soon, her sobs quieted, and she wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief he had given her. "Oh, Gods...my head hurts..." She dabbed at her eyes. "I'm sorry..."
"Hermione, shh. It's all right," He took the handkerchief from her, dabbing at her cheeks to try and erase the tears. "Are you all right? Can we talk about this?"
Sniffing, she nodded. He pulled her closer, trying to reassure her he wasn't upset. "How do you feel about this baby, Hermione? Do you want to keep it?"
Hermione gasped. "I can't abort it. No no no. I just can't."
"What about adoption?"
Hermione shook her head. "I'd...I'd rather not. I don't trust anyone else to raise my child."
Severus nodded. "All right then. Have you been seeing anyone as of late? Romantically?"
She gave him a deadly look.
He intook breath sharply. "I'll take that as a no..."
"Most definitely."
Snape sighed. "My point was going to be, Miss Granger, that unwed mothers are not looked upon highly in the wizarding world. You may very well lose your business."
Hermione gasped. "It's to that magnitude?"
"I'm afraid so," said Snape grimly.
Hermione rubbed her temples, trying to erase her headache. "It's a chance I have to take."
"Well..." began Snape..."Not necessarilly..."
-----
Sorry, short chappie. Seemed like a good place to stop.
Review! Oh, and The Dark's Mistress is now finished, if you'd like to read. Enjoy!
Love Alicia/Jaimes
Chapter Four
-
By your ever-so-not-having-a-life author, Alicia/Jaimes :)
-
Two days after her doctor's appointment -
Professor Snape,
I thank you for your last correspondence. I agree with your statement...what was it you said? "At times I can be an insensitive blockhead, and I understand if you wanted to hex off my manhood while you were my student."
We need to meet to discuss something very important. Please meet me at my home (411 Winchester, London) at 7:30 tonight.
Sincerely,
Hermione E. Granger
Miss Granger,
I will be there. Allow me to bring dinner?
Sincerely, S. Snape
Professor Snape,
I would be most appreciative. I'll cover desert. Just no alcohol, okay?
Hermione E. Granger
Hermione was greatful for his offer to bring dinner. After two days in the hospital, she was feeling better than she did before, but still was slightly dizzy from time to time. Making dinner would have been difficult. She supposed that the dizzy feeling was not because of her dehydration, but because of the baby.
She paused in the midst of mixing cake batter to lay a hand on her tummy. She couldn't really tell a difference, but she still knew there was a tiny life in there. Was she ready for this? No. She knew that much. But she had seven and a half months to get ready, she supposed.
She hadn't had much time to think - while hospitalized she hadn't done much more than sleep, truth be told. While she felt much better physically, her mental state was in turmoil. What would Snape think? Would he want anything to do with this child? Would he want her to abort it? Would he want full custody?
Too much thinking, not enough mixing... She began mixing the cake in earnest now.
Oh Gods. What am I going to tell my boys...? What will Harry and Ron think? The two of them had abhorred Snape in school...for that matter, she had too. His snide remarks, his impossible assignments...And now she was having his child. Oh God. What if her child was just as snide and snippy as he was?
Must...concentrate...on...present...task! She finished mixing up the cake - a very simple homemade chocolate cake, to be iced with chocolate icing she'd made earlier - and put it in the oven to bake. Soon her house smelled like chocolate, making it seem even homier than she thought possible. While she loved her home, sometimes it didn't seem real...it didn't seem like it was really hers. It was always clean and pristine, and it reminded her of a showroom. There was nothing terribly personal, except for a few elegantly framed photos of herself, Harry, and Ron.
How personal would this all look with baby toys strewn about? How personal would it be when that baby began to walk and crawl and pull breakable things down off of tables and shelves?
Hermione looked at the clock...How did it get to be six o clock? She ran upstairs to get ready.
-----
After a hot shower, some quick hair-drying, and a lot of lotion (she'd heard about how if you put on lots of lotion, it prevented stretch marks, so she was starting early) she felt about as ready to meet Severus Snape and tell him she was bearing his child as a mouse was ready to meet its' death by being ripped apart by a cat.
She pondered over exactly what to say while arranging her hair back away from her face with some tortoiseshell clips her mother had left her.
"Lovely weather, isn't it? I wonder what it will be like next year, this time, with the baby and all. Oh, didn't I tell you?"
"Did you not think to use a contraceptive spell? Or were you too busy enjoying it?"
"You mean you've still got it at...how old are you now?"
She'd never been gifted with words, she mused, frowning as one lone tendril struggled out of her coif. Her hair could never be perfect. Then again, nothing about her was perfect, really. Her now even more rapidly expanding waistline, for one. Her hair, somewhere between curly and wavy (she'd blown it out straight for tonight) for another.
So what, exactly, do I do correctly? Hermione thought to herself, applying thin layers of powder, blush, and brown hues of eyeshadow, along with a bit of eyeliner and mascara. Just as she was putting on her clothes, the doorbell rang.
"Be right down," she called. She wore a black tank top underneath a white throwover shawl, along with white-with-black-pinstripes pants, and what looked like very, very painful stiletto heels. She grabbed at the first pair of earrings she saw - black bead chadelliers - and put them in as she was walking/running/jumping (though not for excitement) down the stairs.
"Severus." She greeted him warmly, even though she would have just as soon have wished she was screaming at him for not being experienced with condoms. "Do come in."
"Thank you, it's beginning to rain out there..." Snape set down a large covered basket to remove his jacket. Hermione helped him out of it and hung it in the foyer. Still attempting polite conversation (very uncharacteristic of Snape, of course), he glanced around his surroundings. "You have a beautiful home, Hermione."
"Well, thank you," said a flattered Hermione. "I'm glad you like it," she said then, genuinely. "Now, I have a cake in the oven I must take out, accompany me to the kitchen?"
"Certainly," he said, taking her arm and letting her lead him around the spacious house. "What sort of cake is this?"
"Oh, just chocolate from scratch. Sorry, I've been rather ill, as of late, and I kept it simple." Hermione grinned at him apologetically.
"On the contrary, Miss Granger," said Snape smoothly, "I happen to love chocolate cake. But only, and only, with chocolate icing."
"Then you're in luck," she said, smiling. She took the cake out of the oven and set it on a rack to cool, so she could later ice it.
"Would you like to eat dinner now, and talk later, or talk now?" Snape conjured the food-laden basket and set it on the table, and drew out a chair for her. She sat gratefully. All of her baking and preparing herself for his arrival had worn her out. "It is up to you, Hermione."
"May we talk now?" she pleaded. "I know we may not be in the mood for eats afterward, but...but I feel as if I don't talk now, I won't have the nerve to tell you."
"Tell me what?" Snape took her hand. "Hermione, you can tell me anything. I swear, I won't abandon you or leave you alone. And I won't go blabbing it around to the world like Potter and Weasley sometimes are prone to do."
Hermione laughed weakly. "Sometimes, you have those two to a T."
Snape smiled. "I've been teaching a good many years, my dear. I observe you students from the time you get off that train to the time you board the Hogwarts Express for the last time...I know each and every one of you." He grew more serious. "Hermione, please. Please tell me what's wrong."
Hermione's eyes were starting to get liquidy. Her chin wobbled, and when she spoke, her voice was gravelly with sorrow. "I'm trying. I'm really trying, and I want to, but...but..."
"But what, Hermione?"
"It involves you too," she got out in a rush, before tears spilled over. "I'm...I'm...I'm..."
"Miss Granger..."
"I'm pregnant, Severus."
Hermione began sobbing in earnest now. She laid her head in her arms, which rested on the table, and let out all her pent-up emotions. It was as if she had tapped into a never-ending river of sorrow, grief, and even anger. So sure was she that Severus would leave that she jumped when he pulled her into his arms. Quickly though, she relaxed, and sobbed with relief that he wasn't leaving - at least not yet.
-----
My God. What could I have been thinking? Granted I haven't had sex in many years, but surely I could have remembered to cast a contraceptive spell... Severus wanted to bang his head on the table in frustration, but he didn't, knowing it would upset Hermione. He smoothed her hair, trying to comfort her as he held her in his lap.
Soon, her sobs quieted, and she wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief he had given her. "Oh, Gods...my head hurts..." She dabbed at her eyes. "I'm sorry..."
"Hermione, shh. It's all right," He took the handkerchief from her, dabbing at her cheeks to try and erase the tears. "Are you all right? Can we talk about this?"
Sniffing, she nodded. He pulled her closer, trying to reassure her he wasn't upset. "How do you feel about this baby, Hermione? Do you want to keep it?"
Hermione gasped. "I can't abort it. No no no. I just can't."
"What about adoption?"
Hermione shook her head. "I'd...I'd rather not. I don't trust anyone else to raise my child."
Severus nodded. "All right then. Have you been seeing anyone as of late? Romantically?"
She gave him a deadly look.
He intook breath sharply. "I'll take that as a no..."
"Most definitely."
Snape sighed. "My point was going to be, Miss Granger, that unwed mothers are not looked upon highly in the wizarding world. You may very well lose your business."
Hermione gasped. "It's to that magnitude?"
"I'm afraid so," said Snape grimly.
Hermione rubbed her temples, trying to erase her headache. "It's a chance I have to take."
"Well..." began Snape..."Not necessarilly..."
-----
Sorry, short chappie. Seemed like a good place to stop.
Review! Oh, and The Dark's Mistress is now finished, if you'd like to read. Enjoy!
Love Alicia/Jaimes