Fiddler grunted, shifting awkwardly in bed, trying to find a posture. It was getting harder to sleep comfortably as their babies grew bigger, and Fiddler made Severus laugh everytime she complained that one of them was crushing her bladder and the other one, her diaphragm, with a very Slytherin sense of going for others' weaker points.
She sat down in bed and put a hand to her belly, where one of her children was rhythmically kicking, as if trying to say something in Morse code.
"Give me a break, would you", she told him or her. "Momma needs to get some sleep".
The baby kicked.
"Is that a yes?"
Kick.
"All right then. Thanks a lot."
She got up laboriously to go to the bathroom and looked at her sleeping husband with a smile on her face. She returned to bed waddling about and crawled under the covers, snuggling as close to Severus as her belly allowed her. She kissed his shoulder and he mumbled sleepily, catching her in his embrace.
"What time is it?" he whispered.
"Four thirty".
"It is nearly time for you to go, is it not?"
"Yeah".
"Stay", Severus said.
"I can't. Must work."
"Please. They are driving me crazy".
She chuckled and nuzzled his neck. He moaned.
"Do not start it if you do not intend to finish it", he admonished.
She smiled mischievously.
"I must shower in half an hour… Are you up to it?"
He groaned in response, and kept doing passionate noises as he moved to touch her body, getting rid of her oversized shirt and her underthings, stroking her belly and breasts, heavier and fuller than ever. He suckled her hardened nipples and was startled when she actually whimpered loudly for once.
"Did I… hurt you?"
"No— I— Ooh… Just… They're oversensitive, I guess…"
Severus grunted, incredibly aroused by her ragged answer, and resumed his caresses as her small hand traveled down his navel and lower to grasp his erection. She slid her fingertips around it with incredible softness and Severus' hips bucked helplessly. She killed him with the slightest of touches and he still marveled at the tenderness and delicacy with which she made love, in shocking contrast with her usual energetic self. Except for that one time… Which hadn't repeated itself, and Severus did not know whether to regret it, or be thankful for it.
A woman full of contradictions, he thought, delighted among the waves of pleasure, enjoying her strokes as her other hand wandered around his chest and back. He helped her to shift to her side, back turned to him, and he buried his face between her shoulder blades, licking at her skin greedily, making her shiver. His lips wandered lower, kissing the tattoo on the small of her back, and finally he entered her from behind as his fingers caressed her swollen folds. He moved smoothly, gently, kissing the nape of her neck and breathing in the scent of her hair as she bucked against him to meet his thrusts.
It didn't take long for any of them, and soon enough they were lying in each other's arms, panting and kissing, hands still stroking their respective bodies.
"I must shower…" she murmured lazily.
"I'll join you".
She laughed.
"No you're not. I'm late already and if you do it I'll never make it".
"I grant you that one, but the fact is I could not care less", he said.
She smacked his chest playfully and kissed her way up from it to his mouth. Finally, he allowed her to get up and waddle towards the bathroom. She came out a short time later, wrapped in a purple towel, surrounded by a wonderfully-smelling fog, her hair wet and her skin looking smooth. She dried herself off, she put on some lotions and got into an enormous light blue scrub.
"Are you feeling specially cruel today, Fiddler?" he asked huskily, his eyes fixed on her.
She frowned, confused.
"No… Why?"
"You are torturing me, álainn".
"Ah! Oh… I'm sorry…"
She crawled onto the bed and kissed him apologetically. He didn't relinquish his grip on her for ten minutes.
"I must go", she said, finally. "I'll be back early at night… I hope".
"I shall be here", Severus replied, and he sounded gloomy as he watched her leave their room from bed.
Severus wandered around the house all day feeling unaccountably unease. A pesky sense of premonition prickled in the back of his mind, constricting his throat and making him walk restlessly around the library, unable to focus in his reading.
"Severus?" he heard Tonks' inquiring voice behind him. "Are you all right?"
"As good as usual", he replied silkily.
Tonks sighed impatiently.
"You know, you could drop your indifference every once in a while… Even I can tell you are worried".
Severus eyed her thoughtfully and finally said:
"The truth is I am. I do not normally pay attention to inner foreboding, but I fear Fiddler is in danger".
"How's she doing?"
"The pregnancy is going quite all right", Severus said. "It is… not that. At least, I do not think so".
"What, then?"
Severus shook his head.
"I am not certain".
"She's not doing any more magic, is she?" Tonks asked worriedly.
"No, she's not. The wolf thing was the last thing she… did. I don't think she even attempts to read minds now… She's frightened".
"I would be as well…" said Tonks. "But Dumbledore told us not to worry about it".
"Yes, but I do. When she was performing this… wandless magic, I didn't fear for her. But now she seems so helpless… So vulnerable…"
"That's common to every men I've met! You love to think your women are fragile. So you can get to play heroes and protect them. But, trust me, Snape… Fiddler's everything but weak".
And with that, Tonks walked out of the room.
Severus looked at the clock in the library and sighed. He then walked towards the portrait of Wallace McGonagall, hanging now in the place of honor above the chimney, in between the portraits of Fiddler's adoptive parents. Severus examined the painting, which Minerva had charmed before she sent it for it not to move, and he marveled at the fact that the man in the canvas had actually been Minerva's brother, as he didn't resemble her in the least.
Wallace McGonagall had been a fierce-looking man (well, that's some resemblance after all, Severus corrected himself), with a bushy crown of golden red locks, a rather unexpected, almost blonde moustache, and the exact same greenish blue eyes as Fiddler. He had wide shoulders under the purple robe he wore, and a huge golden ring on the pale hand, which was holding his wand.
Severus couldn't find similarities between the man in the portrait and his wife, except for the eyes, and the somewhat fiery expression, and he raised his shoulders, wondering what had Fiddler's Banshee mother had looked like. He walked towards a chair with a book to read, and despite all his worries he dozed off without realizing it.
Fiddler raised her eyes from the PC screen to look at the clock and rubbed her eyes.
She struggled to get up and stretched carefully, putting a hand to her pained back.
"Ready to go?" Pammy asked behind her.
"Yes, I just needed to finish this report, but I'm on my way. The—Ow!"
She put a hand to her midriff, surprised at the stinging pain.
"Fidd? You OK?"
"Yeah… It was just… a contraction". She sounded bewildered.
"Braxton-Hicks?"
"No, those don't hurt".
"Oh, right. How far along are you?"
"Twenty-seven weeks".
"You must be careful, Fiddler", Pammy admonished her. "No offense, but you're huge and you know hyper expansion isn't good for the uterus".
"Yes well", Fiddler said somewhat scathingly. "I'm huge because I'm expecting twins; and I talked to Hastings yesterday and he told me I won't be able to claim maternity incapacity until I reach 30 weeks at least. And even that cost me half an eye".
"Damn it all. That's stupid".
"Tell me about it. But you were in the same case, weren't you?"
Pammy had delivered a healthy baby boy a month ago and she had just reincorporated to work.
"Yes, but I wasn't expecting twins. Yours is a high-risk pregnancy, Fiddler, and you know it".
"Yes, I know it. I went to med school. I am not so sure about Hastings, though".
Both women chuckled.
"He's a man, he'll never get it", Pammy said.
"Yeah… Well. See you tomorrow, Pammy, kiss your son for me."
"Will do. Bye-bye, take care".
Fiddler nodded and grabbed her backpack and her coat to leave the office. She waddled funnily towards her Denali and realised she'd soon need a cab to go to work. Damned be Hastings. She struggled to get in and she was about to close the door when a gloved hand prevented it.
"Hello", said the cold, drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy. "It is good to see you again… Where is your… do you call it a gun?"
And then everything went black.
Fiddler woke up slowly to find herself sprawled in a rather cold tile floor, shaking, with goose bumps in her skin, and curled protectively over her belly. The back of her head hurt like hell, and as she tried to move she discovered her hands and feet were tied.
Blast.
What the hell am I doing here?
Duh, Fiddler, guess again.
Shut up.
She wriggled, and felt the babies kick.
"I know, I know, I want to get out of here as well. Be quiet, now, Momma needs to think…"
She wriggled and writhed some more, but the bindings were strong and well placed, and, Fiddler suspected, magical as well. She snorted and tried to sit up, but she couldn't do even that.
Pregnant and Bound, Fiddler Snape's Most Excellent Adventure, her mind said scathingly.
You know, you made it sound like a cheap porn film.
Fiddler laughed despite herself.
Shut UP!
Oh, sorry.
She was just deciding she might as well sleep until something more interesting happened when a boot in her back made her fight the strangling urge to scream in pain.
"Well, well, well", Lucius Malfoy said. "Severus' Muggle bitch. Such a pleasure".
He kneeled suddenly and grabbed Fiddler by her thick braid forcefully, nearly snapping her neck, and brought her up to her knees.
"Look at me when I talk to you", he whispered dangerously.
Fiddler fixed her gaze on him challengily and spat at him.
I always wanted to do that, she thought, incongruously gleeful, just before his fist made contact with her face. Blood flew from her nose and she closed her eyes.
Ouch.
"Do that again and you'll be very sorry indeed", Malfoy warned.
He worked open her coat and grunted in surprise as he took in Fiddler's obviously pregnant belly. His eyes gleamed maliciously, as if someone had just offered him Heaven in a silver tray.
"He's got you with child…" he grabbed her left hand rudely and positively gloated then. "He has married you! Oh, this just gets better and better…!"
He hit her again, just for the fun of it, Fiddler was sure, and he lowered his head to kiss her savagely.
Oh, no you're not.
Fiddler, although she seldom mentioned it, had been a swimming champion in her childhood and early puberty, butterfly style being her specialty. Med School and other occupations had put swimming championships aside, only contenting herself with an occasional splash in her long forgotten pool. Well, this was the time to get reacquainted with old skills, Fiddler mused, as she shifted her shoulders swiftly and unexpectedly, as if preparing to give a butterfly stroke.
It worked.
Fiddler hit Malfoy in the jaw with her right shoulder, and he remained in front of her, half-kneeled and swaying, blinking as if he had suddenly been blinded. Fiddler finished the job by shooting her head up and thumped him fully under the chin and neck. It hurt like Hell, but it was worth it. Malfoy fell to his side limply, and good Gods in heaven, his wand rolled out of his sleeve… and stopped two feet away from Fiddler.
"Damn!"
She sat on her heels, feeling numb already and groaned.
"Kids, we're in trouble. Momma can't get that stupid wand without falling over you two… and even so… why do they always tie people's hands at their backs?"
To prevent them from grabbing things, that was obvious.
She felt a hearty kick as if offering support and she moved forward on her knees, wriggling like a standing worm, but she stopped as she felt she was losing her balance.
"Oh, it's no use… I'm going to fall over…", Fiddler watched Lucius Malfoy stir and mumbled frantically, "Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no… Stay out, you twit, stay out… Oh, why can't I GET that stupid WAND?!"
And then, the unbelievable happened. The wand flew right to her tied hands.
"Yes!" she cried, astonished. "Oh, I got it, I got it… how I did it, don't care… What was that spell? Um—Diffindo?"
That was the spell. Fiddler's hands were freed and she thanked Hermione profusely for bothering on teaching her spells when they were at Hogwarts despite she didn't even had a wand. She severed the magical cords binding her ankles and stood up laboriously. She felt dizzy and had to lean down on a chair for support, noticing the room's décor for the first time, rather dark and elegantly decadent. There was a wide four poster bed in the middle, with black satin curtains and Fiddler wanted to laugh out loud at the image. The only thing amiss was the coffin and the bat, she thought irreverently.
Lucius Malfoy opened his eyes just then and he froze at the sight before him, Fiddler Snape standing in all her pregnant splendor, wrapped in her blue scrub, one foot in front of the other and aiming his own wand at him as a fencer.
"Move, and you'll be very sorry indeed", she mimicked his previous words.
Malfoy struggled to maintain his dignity, but it was hard to do so lying on the floor with blood dripping out of his nose, his usually tidy blond hair all over his face and his own wand aiming at him.
"What would a Muggle bitch know about wand dueling?" he sneered.
"Bitch? I grant you that one. Muggle, not so much", Fiddler spoke lightly, as if he hadn't insulted her. "Or didn't your lord tell you the reason why he sent you to summon me in the first place?"
Malfoy did not answer. Not that she expected him to. She still remembered the episode with his offspring.
"I thought as much", she said smugly, and brought her hands to her head, undoing her braid and shaking her head so that her heavy tendrils tumbled down to her waist, and she felt immensely pleased when she saw his eyes widen in recognition. "I am a Banshee, Lucius", she whispered malevolently. "And a Witch. Read your History of Magic? Imagine the possibilities… And, despite what you might have heard, the truth is I am not kind at all. Oh, and another bad new… I do know how to use a wand. Stupefy!" she cried out the Stunning spell, praying that it would work because her last statement wasn't entirely true.
It worked.
Malfoy fell over once more, and stayed there.
"Way to go", she told herself. "Now get the hell out of here".
She strode swiftly towards the door and opened it.
It was a big mistake.
Five dark figures walked inside, and although Fiddler raised the wand and tried to say something, the truth was she wasn't quick enough. One of them squeezed the wand out of her hand, two restrained her and the other two went to Malfoy to charm him back to rights. They approached her with murderous intentions and eyed Malfoy questioningly. Undoubtedly, he was the king of the show.
"No magic", was all he said.
And so, they begun beating her systematically, as they'd have punched a sparring bag. They didn't even seem to realise what they were doing, and that scared Fiddler more than the throbbing pain spreading in her body. She only but curled over her belly as much as the two men holding her by her arms allowed, and then she thought that these were probably the same men that had held Severus upright when she'd witnessed Malfoy beat him to a pulp as he tortured him with his memories.
Her mind, trying desperately to get away from the pain, from the humiliation, wandered away, swirling slowly and almost elegantly among hues of blue, of gray, of purple…
And began to sing.
Only so many times,
I can say I long for you.
The lily among the thorns;
the prey among the wolves.
Then she mercifully blacked out. That didn't stop Malfoy, though; he grabbed his companion by the back of his hood and ordered the two men holding her to keep her upright as stepped forward and beat her again and again, blatantly aroused by the sight of her blood.
"LUCIUS!" roared a voice behind them. "Leave her!"
"Atherton", Malfoy sneered, heaving, but he stopped.
"You are not to touch her, Lucius", Atherton said, "You know Our Lord's orders… He'll be most displeased if they aren't fulfilled. Now, step back".
Very reluctantly, Malfoy and his cronies obeyed, the two holding Fiddler letting her fall carelessly to the ground. She didn't move. Atherton shot the men a dirty glance and approached the unconscious woman, taking her in his arms and carrying her to the bed.
"Oh, that was sweet", Malfoy spat. "I'll mention it to Snape, I'm sure he will thank a fellow traitor".
"Don't be stupid, Malfoy. I am not a traitor. Unlike you, I am actually following my Lord's orders. He specifically told us not to harm this woman".
Malfoy shrunk his shoulders, managing to make the gesture look scathing. Atherton ignored him, and surveyed the woman on the bed. He suddenly took in her pregnancy and faced Malfoy again, outraged.
"Are you insane?"
"Why do you care all of the sudden? You've done worst. Need I remind you?"
"No, you do not. But have you got no brains? That child could mean the Dark Lord's downfall!"
"All the more a reason to destroy it!"
"You idiot!!" Atherton hit Malfoy on his already battered face. "He needs something, either from her or the child, you can't go about doing your will!"
Atherton looked ad Fiddler's bloodstained face.
"Clean up this mess", he advised. "If our Lord sees it—"
"Coward", Lucius spat. He made no move to do as told.
Atherton shook his head and sighed. He took out his wand and Scourgified Fiddler, who was still out. Her face was awfully bruised and her left hand hung limply over the edge of the mattress. Atherton looked at her again and something deep within him cringed. He quickly smothered it, though, as he had orders to carry on with.
Fiddler woke with the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She moved laboriously and curled into a ball. Her limps were numb and incredibly sore, and she moaned softly in the darkness. She felt the babies move about and let out a very quiet but relieved sigh. She put a hand to her belly as if trying to reassure them and smiled despite her pain.
At least they were all right.
She, on the other hand…
Her face pulsed in agony and it felt oddly swollen and lumpy.
I must look like the loser side of a street fight, she thought.
Oh, get a grip, your face was never your best feature anyway.
Yeah… you're right. But it hurts, though. Do you think they broke something?
She spent the next few minutes carefully moving each juncture in turn, until she convinced herself there were no sensible fractures. She breathed in deeply, and was relieved when she felt only a little pain on her side. No broken ribs either. She touched her own face gently and concluded her nose was intact, both eyes still on place, and no teeth missing. Apparently they had beat her with more fury than accuracy.
Oddly enough, she felt like laughing.
She choked on the chortle, and heard a noise somewhere around her left. She instantly went taut, steeling herself for another whomping ration. A candle was lit, and Fiddler held back a shocked breath as she was confronted with the beautiful face of Wynn Ludlow.