AN: I don't have any notes I want to put in here. Or at the end. I'll just answer everyone's reviews, shall I?
xikum: Uh-uh. No reasons shall be given at this point in time. (; Don't worry, all will become clear.
Corgi1: Heh. As I said, I kinda stole that letter idea from my friend Ellidyay. But I'm glad you liked the format. And the contents.
someonesgurl: Yup. Damn Jason. The character everyone just loves to hate. =D
Ox King: *shivers delightedly* I made you cry? I love it when my writing touches people like that. Thank you!
sassw14: Really, thank you.
yumi-no-baka: Erp. *hides Jason from her wrath* =D
Lucied: It was a tough chapter to write. I'm not all that good at first person, so... thank you for the compliment.
crissy: Really? What makes you think that? *interested*
Maximum Poofy-Pissed Off Queen: *is tempted to kill someone* Thank you, though!
Mikee: *glomps* Nope. Don't need to tell me that SS/HP is your favourite ship... And Yes, Harry can't really decide whether or not he really hates or loves Jason. Isn't it wonderful?
Manda Lee04: Wow. You're like the third person who cried! I wish more of my stories got that reaction...
Lacey74: Thank you so much!
frizzy: Okay, so what is it with people suspecting Draco? *L* And I do so love befuddling my readers... I'm glad you like my story.
Cloudburst2000: Hmm, I did answer your email, didn't I? Well, I won't say anything here, either. (;
Redrose2310: Ooo, another SS/HP shipper.
Cameron (it's easier to type): *chortles* Maybe I should write more chapters like that. Maybe I can even get you to forgive me for corrupting you, Which, by the way, I SO didn't do. *G* Heh. I don't much like Jason either.
Ayame: I sign on, and you're never there! *wails*
Pixyfairy120: You know, I wouldn't mind knowing what was going to happen next either. My characters never tell me.
KittenBabyGirl: Fine! Fine! The periwinkle button! Happy? =P The best mpreg? *glomps*
Sapphire Raine: Unfortunately, nobody gets to know what the reason are until I'm good and ready to reveal them. But all will become clear. And as for the teachers knowing Jason... ~_^
kathy stggvk: Harry's true love? I've already said. "A wizard only falls in love once". *fiendish grin*
Sapphic Priestess: Nope. Not going to stop writing this story. I'm having too much fun with it.
Saavik13: Oh? What else weird? I want to hear now! Heh, and you won't have to wait long at all...
npetrenko: Glad you liked my chapter. And now I deliver 'more'...
Actually, I changed my mind. Just one note: I have the feeling that many people will be... disappointed by the turns my story takes later on. And, being that I live off my reviews, I can't help but feel a little bad about that. But that doesn't mean I'm going to change anything. So, fair warning, mm-kay?
Chapter Eight:
Pregnancy, Harry decided, was a bitch. And he'd thought the first trimester was bad. All it had was morning sickness and tiredness. Not a patch on what the end of the second trimester held. If his unborn baby wanted a younger sibling, he or she would have to beg long and hard to even get Harry to consider the prospect.
His body was in a constant state of flux, not the least of which was the ever-changing centre of gravity. Harry couldn't go a day with tripping at least twice. Fortunately, he'd only fallen three times; none of which had been serious. On the other hand, he couldn't count the number of bruises in the shape of hands he'd collected because one or another of his friends had grabbed him roughly to stop the fall. Seamus had more than once said jokingly it was a good thing Harry was off the quidditch team: he'd surely have fallen to his death by now if he'd been flying.
His back ached like bloody murder most of the time, and when Harry tried to garner sympathy from Blaise and Hermione, more often than not they smirked at him and said that he now knew what they went through once a month.
He was starting to have trouble getting up from sitting or lying down. His feet ached, his ankles had swollen to abnormal sizes, and whenever he removed the concealment charm he now used, Harry looked like he'd swallowed a quaffle. Draco made the grievous mistake of mentioning this to Harry and had earned himself very sore lower regions. Nobody commented on it again.
Harry had gone from sleepiness to sleeplessness, though this may have had something to do with the fact that the baby had taken to practicing its beater methods on his bladder. He could barely go an entire lesson without needing to visit the bathroom, and he hadn't slept the night through in so long he hardly knew what it was like anymore.
Then there were his crying jags. In the days after Harry'd received the letter from Jason, they'd become worse. The only good thing he could see about it was that he hadn't broken down in front of anyone except his friends. Ron and Draco always got incredibly uncomfortable and soon left the room. Of course, that may have had something to do with the fact that at such times Harry usually began cursing all male kind and making noises about castrating the lot of them. And Hermione and Blaise would glare at them when they tried to defend themselves by pointing out that Harry, too, was male. For some reason, that only ever served to make him even more upset, and Dean seemed to be the only one who could calm him down.
And then, of course, there were Harry's cravings…
He didn't know what the other students made of it; all he knew was that he had become the entertainment at every meal. The entire Gryffindor table (and no few Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Slytherins) would watch avidly to see what combination of foods Harry would pile onto his plate that meal; such combinations as Worcestershire sauce on his ice cream, kippers and honey on his morning toast, his tea taken with lemon and just a dash or three of salt, and marmite on his roast beef.
Naturally, Ron, Draco and Dean found it hilarious; Hermione got exasperated with everyone, and Blaise, who, with Draco, had taken to eating at the Gryffindor table, would try to remove from Harry's plate everything she deemed unhealthy and replace it with what she thought he should be eating. Harry privately thought she was in league with Madam Pomfery.
The professors were no help in dispersing the crowd either. Dumbledore, Harry was sure, found it rather amusing. McGonagall, Sprout and Pomfery all just smiled tolerantly and watched to make sure he ate enough vegetables (Harry thought they were all in league as well). Professor Flitwick just beamed at him constantly, and Harry was being to think he'd somehow acquired an adoptive great-uncle in the little professor. The other professors were somewhat bemused by it all, but they followed the Headmaster's lead and let it be. The only one the thrice-daily spectacle seemed to bother was Snape.
Snape would glare at Harry the whole meal through, as though the attention he was receiving was somehow his fault. Harry couldn't help it if everyone thought his new eating habits were amusing.
As he heaped raspberries on top of his roast chicken, Harry decided that having Snape staring at him was more unsettling then the gazes of the rest of the school combined. Maybe it was the way it was just so fixed. It never strayed to his plate, like everyone else's did. The only place that black stare did stray was to whomever happened to be sitting next to Harry, usually Dean. But what bothered Harry the most was that he hadn't really noticed Snape staring at him during meals until Seamus has pointed it out, just that afternoon.
Harry had been curled up on one end of the common room couch, his arms wrapped around a pillow. He was chatting with Ginny, who sat on the floor, leaning against his side. Hermione was sitting in a nearby armchair, her lap cluttered with texts and scrolls. On the opposite end of Harry's couch, Neville was leaning over Seamus's shoulder so that he, too, could see the magazine the Irish boy held. The pair was laughing at an article they were reading.
Ginny jumped when Hermione slammed closed the book she'd been reading and snapped, "I don't know why you buy that thing, Seamus. It's just a waste of money!"
Seamus blinked at her, "What, The Quibbler?" he asked, waving the magazine he held.
"Yes, that," Hermione retorted, her low opinion of the publication clear, "It's full of stuff and nonsense."
Seamus smiled disarmingly, "But its interesting stuff and nonsense. Just listen to the article me and Nev found:
"SUMMER ROMANCE – DOES TINTAGEL'S NEW MASTER HAVE A MISTRESS?
"Just last summer, the ancient castle of Tintagel, birth place of the Muggle king, Arthur, received its new master. Professor Severus Snape of Hogwarts School is the last surviving relative of the traditional owners, the Dellits. The Potions Master is a solitary man with no heirs of his own, and he currently has no prospects for marriage in his life.
BUT DOES HE?
Recently, a new source (a Mr. H. Goodkind, former under footman for the Professor) has come forward with evidence that his gloomy air and cauldrons weren't the only things Professor Snape brought with him to Tintagel: the new master was accompanied by a 'companion'. Mr. Goodkind would not give a positive identification of the young man-"
"Humph. More like couldn't," Hermione snorted.
Seamus glared at her, but made no comment as he continued, "but he did say that the youth had dark hair, was small in stature, and seemed to be rather intimately acquainted with the Professor. On more than one occasion, Mr. Goodkind observed the normally cold and reserved Potions Master smile at the youth, and allow him liberties with his person-" here, both Neville and Seamus snorted with laughter before the Irish boy continued, "such as frequent casual touch; even going so far as to allow the dark-haired young man to adjust his clothing and hair during Snape's sitting for the traditional portrait of the master of Tintagel (see photo).
Further, Mr. Goodkind confirmed that for the duration of Professor Snape's various visits to Tintagel, his companion was accommodated in the suite adjoining the master's own: those which would traditionally belong to the mistress of the house.
Staff at the Castle refused to comment on the subject of the young man, but the fact remains that, as the sole surviving heir to two great fortunes, Snape is obliged to produce an heir of his own, and one wonders if this mysterious youth will become a more permanent fixture in the Professor's life."
Seamus finished the article and smiled triumphantly at his audience as though he had proved his point. Hermione snorted, "I don't believe a word of it."
Seamus rolled his eyes, "Hermione, you wouldn't..."
Harry tuned out the rest of their impending argument and instead took the magazine out of Seamus's hands to look at the article himself. He skimmed through the text that Seamus had faithfully read word for word, and then turned to the picture that accompanied it. It was undeniably Snape glaring up at him from it, and at first Harry couldn't see anything unusual about it. Snape was dressed in his usual black robes, and he did not look happy to be posing for a portrait. But then a pair of hands reached in from the side of the frame and tugged at the lapels of Snape's robes, adjusting and smoothing them. This, Snape bore with a tolerant frown, but when the hands reached up to brush back his hair, Snape scowled and shook the hands free.
"I bet Snape fired that footman, and he's just making up a story to get back at him for it," Hermione snapped, drawing Harry's attention back to the argument.
Before Seamus could retaliate, Harry spoke up, "I agree with Hermione. That article's absolute bollocks. If there was a boy, he was probably Snape's godson, or apprentice or something like that." Harry tossed the magazine onto the couch, "All that about Snape marrying and producing an heir would have been more believable if that footman said the other person was female."
Seamus left off glaring at Hermione to stare instead at Harry.
"What?" Harry said defensively.
Seamus snorted and shook his head, "So much for 'it takes one to know one'."
Harry blinked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, come on, Harry! You don't seriously mean to tell me that you never noticed that Snape's as camp as a row of frilly pink tents?"
"Gay, you mean?" Harry gaped at Seamus, "Snape's not gay. He's…. he's…." Harry paused, wondering what, exactly, Snape was, "well, he's not gay!"
Seamus leant his head back over the arm of the couch. "Oi, Dean!" he shouted, calling the other boy away from the chess game he was involved in with Ron.
Dean pivoted in his seat, "What?"
"Is Snape gay?"
Dean snorted, "Only about as gay as me and Harry." He deserted his chess game to lean on the couch next to Neville, "Why do you ask?"
Seamus smirked at Harry, "Golden Boy here was oblivious to the fact."
Harry glared at him, "Fine. Presuming you're right and Snape is gay – which I don't believe – how would you know? It's not like anybody's ever seen Snape with someone."
Seamus rolled his eyes, "Merlin, Harry! You really are oblivious, aren't you? You mean you never noticed Snape staring at you all the time? You and Dean, and Malfoy, and Justin, and that Ravenclaw, Boot: all the prettiest boys in the school. Snape's as gay as they come, and he knows which students are, too."
"Hey!" Hermione bristled, "Draco's not gay! Besides, we shouldn't be talking about a teacher like this. It's not polite. And you stop that, Seamus Finnegan!"
Seamus had held up one hand and was using it to parrot Hermione. He grinned impishly at her, "You'd be just as interested in finding out about Snape's little boy-toy as anybody else, Hermione. You just won't admit it."
Hermione scowled at the flippant Irish boy, "I would not. It's none of my business. It's none of yours either.
"Anyway, it's almost time for dinner." She swung around to face Harry; "We better go down to the Great Hall now."
Harry opened his mouth to say that he didn't feel like dinner, but Hermione beat him to it, " And don't say you're not hungry, Harry! You have to eat, and you know it."
Deciding that staying in Hermione's good books was the better part of not going down to the Great Hall, Harry had meekly pushed Ginny off him and clambered to his feet.
And now that Harry knew Snape was staring so fixedly at him, he found it disturbing. Though he refused to believe as Seamus did: that it was because Snape found him attractive. That would just be weird. But it was still distracting to have that black gaze fixed on him. Harry didn't even realize that dinner was over until Dean was shaking his arm to get his attention.
Even then, Harry simply got meekly to his feet and followed his friends from the Great Hall and through the corridors, content to let them decide where they were going.
"Harry."
Harry blinked, and was mildly surprised to find himself sitting next to Dean on the couch in Hermione's room. He honestly didn't remember coming here. The other five were all staring at him, and Blaise had an exasperated expression on her face. Harry decided that it must have been her that had been calling his name, so he addressed himself to her.
"Sorry. What did you say? I was a little distracted."
"Little? Huh!" Draco snorted, but Harry ignored him.
Blaise gave Harry a skeptical look, but didn't ask him what he'd been thinking of.
"I asked you when you were planning on finding out the gender of your baby," she repeated.
Harry blinked at the apparent non sequitur and Blaise elaborated, "I mean, Madam Pomfery would have been able to tell you at least three weeks ago, but you still haven't found out." She narrowed her eyes like the suspicious Slytherin she was, "or have you, and you just didn't want to tell us?"
Harry started and held up his hands in denial, vehemently shaking his head, "No! I haven't found out the gender yet. You know I'd tell you guys if I had." Harry's eyes turned briefly sad, "Besides, I only have you to tell. There's no one else, besides Sirius."
The others were all silent until Harry threw off his brief melancholy moment. "Besides," he said with an overly bright smile, "I don't know that I'll find out the gender of my baby, anyway. I quite like the idea of it being a surprise."
"What?!" shouted Draco, Blaise, Ron and Hermione in unison, "You have to find out!"
Dean and Harry reared back in shock, staring wide-eyed at the other four. Finally, Harry found his voice, "I don't want to find out, and I'm not going to just to satisfy your curiosity," he finished, glaring at them.
"Harry," Draco said in a more reasonable tone, "It's not that we're curious, it's that you have to find out the gender so you can chose a name for the Naming Ceremony."
Ron, Blaise and Hermione all nodded, as though this explained everything. But it didn't. At least, not to Harry and Dean.
"Naming ceremony?" Harry asked, "Sirius mentioned that. What is it?"
Hermione sighed, exasperated, "Didn't you read any of those books I got out of the library for you Harry?" Harry stayed mute and stared stonily at her, so she continued, "You need to chose a name for the Naming Ceremony in which you christen your baby."
Harry shrugged, "I can chose the name after my baby's born. There will be plenty of time before the baptism."
Dean nodded in agreement, Hermione rolled her eyes, and the three wizard-born students looked confused.
"Harry," Hermione began patiently, "The Naming Ceremony isn't really anything like a muggle baptism. It has to take place within hours of you giving birth."
Harry gaped, "Hours? But why?"
"Have you ever heard the phrase 'there's power in a name'? Well, it's true."
Draco nodded and took over the explanation from his girlfriend; "We're all essentially unnamed magical beings at birth. That's why the Naming Ceremony is done so soon after. The person who performs the ceremony is usually one of the parents, or a trusted and respected friend, because whoever names the child has a certain power of influence over him or her."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked hesitantly.
"If one of your enemies got hold of your baby before you named him, they'd be able to influence him away from the Light. They could entice him to grow up to be a Dark wizard," Blaise said earnestly. "Can you imagine what that would do to our world, Harry? Not to mention you. How awful would you feel if your only child turned out like Voldemort?"
Harry stared at her with a horrified expression; "My baby could be evil?"
Blaise nodded earnestly and Harry flinched, his hands coming up to cradle his pregnant belly.
"Well..." he paused, "Well, what happens in this Naming Ceremony? What will I have to do?"
"First, obviously, you have to find out the gender of your baby and chose a name–"
Ron interrupted Hermione's explanation, "The names are often chosen for their meanings; traits the parents would like to see in their child. Like 'Ronald' means 'powerful'-" Draco snorted and Ron thumped him on the arm, "-Ginny's name means 'chaste'. Draco's means 'dragon' or 'serpent'."
"What does yours mean, Blaise?" Dean asked.
Blaise flushed and mumbled something.
"Pardon? We didn't hear you Blaise," Draco smirked.
Blaise glared at him but repeated herself louder, "It means 'cleric'. My mum's sister is a priestess, and she wanted me to be the same."
The four boys snickered, but before Blaise could retaliate, Hermione resumed her explanation of the Naming Ceremony. "Once you've chosen the names–"
"Wait," Harry interrupted, "Names?"
"Yes. You chose two, a first and a middle name."
"Oh. Right." Harry gestured for her to continue.
"Anyway, once you've got the names, you decide who you want to actually perform the ceremony – which, I guess, will be you, Harry?" she hurried on before Harry could make a pessimistic remark. "You'll have to learn the wording – it's different according to the gender of the baby: you call on different powers. Then, when the baby's born and you're ready to do the ceremony, you take him in your arms and begin the incantations. When the powers are at their peak, you take a knife and–"
"A knife?" Harry exploded, "Nobody's coming near my baby with a knife!"
"Harry, calm down!" Hermione snapped, "The knife's for you, not your baby. Besides, you need it. The ceremony's blood magic, and –"
"But I thought blood magic was illegal," Dean interrupted, and Harry could tell Hermione was starting to get annoyed at the interruptions.
"It is. Except for this ceremony. The blood of the caster is required in this spell to anchor the name to the child, and to tie the child to the castor. Harry, all you have to do is cut your thumb and as you say the last words of the ceremony – "I name thee so-and-so" – you dab your baby's forehead, lips and chest with your blood. If it's immediately absorbed into the skin, then the ceremony's worked, and your baby is safe from being influenced by others."
Hermione sat back triumphantly, having gotten to the end of her explanation without any further interruptions. The others all looked expectantly at Harry while he thought through this new information. Eventually, he nodded.
"Okay. Next time I go to see Madam Pomfery, I'll find out the gender of my baby."
Draco, Ron, Blaise and Hermione all relaxed and began to smile.
"Wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, "And I'll go to the library. I found some books on the origins and meanings of names there, and –"
In unison, the other five groaned.