Minerva sat at her desk, shaking all over.  "Oh….God…..what is wrong with everyone?  Everyone except for me, that is……"  The door to her office burst open.  There stood Severus, grinning like a madman.

            "Oh.  God.  Severus."

            "Aren't you going to ask me how my little…..uh….."play session" with Lucius Malfoy went?"

            "If there's one thing, I don't want to hear about, it's that."

            "Good, because I'm shame spiraling.  Got any vodka?"

            "Sorry, Severus."

            "Hey, Minerva, you know what I was thinking?  That we should organize a Hogwarts poetry festival."

            "Who writes poetry?"

            "Who doesn't?  Want to hear some of mine?"

            "Do I have a choice?"

            "All right.  This one is called, "The Murky Black Deep Dark Darkness of Doom."

            The murky black deep dark darkness of doom/

            Destroys my pitiful soul/

            My pitiful soul! /

            I am ripped, ripped, ripped, ripped, ripped/

            By a force that congregates around my abdomen/

            Like the baby inside me/

            The evil baby-spawn of Satan inside me! /

            And I die/

            Die/

            Diediedie. /"

            "Well, Severus, I'm speechless."

            "Then you loved it!"

            "Severus, did you say that you were….uh……pregnant?"

            "Well, obviously."

            "You're pregnant?!?"

            "Of course!"

            "But….but….but……you're a woman?"

            "Well, not really."

            "Then….how………"

            "Can't you accept miracles, you pitiful skeptic?"

            "Oh….God……who's the….uh…..father….mother…….thing………?"

            "Well, it's probably Harry.  Which could be a problem, since he's also my son.  It also could be Draco….who also might be my son….maybe Sirius or Remus……and, of course, there's always good ol' Hermione."

            "Would it be possible for Hermione to….uh……oh, God!  I just don't want to know!"

            "Oh, and I'm a vampire, and Draco's a Veela, so I hope he's the father.  What a cute little mix that would be!"

            "Uh…..guh……so, about that poetry festival……"

            "Minerva, do you want to raise the child with me?"

            "Not…particularly."

            "Aw, that's too bad.  You have no idea how cute she'll be!"

            "You know it's a girl?"

            "Well, I can pretty much assume that that's the case.  And she'll change me so much!  I won't be bitter or mean anymore!  I'll start wearing lavender and run around the school handing out daisies and bear hugs!"

            "Severus, take your freakish fetus and get the hell out of my office."  Severus started to sob.

            "Minerva, I'm sorry.  It's just the hormones.  On a related note, do you have any pickles."

            "No.  Leave."

            "Or vodka?"

            "I already answered that once, and the kid's going to have enough incest-related birth defects without Fetal Alcohol Syndrome."

            "You're so close-minded!"  He stormed out of the office.