Disclaimer: Not my HP characters, just my story. Title taken from a song in an amazing film, The Nightmare Before Christmas.
Don't Call Me Daddy
Chapter 6- What's This?
The Great Hall reverberated with the sound of cutlery scraping against plates and students talking boisterously to one another. At the Staff Table, Professor Snape scanned the room desultorily, but no signs of misconduct were seen. Although his facial features remained impassive, the lean man breathed an inward sigh of relief. These days, the energy he had once expended in pursuing and punishing errant schoolchildren was channeled into another endeavor- taking care of his pregnant wife.
"Time seems to be flying, Severus. Why it's the end of November. I just had a postcard from Harry. He'll be home for the holidays."
Returning McGonagall's bright gaze with a sardonic one, he deadpanned,
"What a jolly Christmas this will be."
Minerva covered her mouth to hide a smile at his tone. On the other side of the Transfiguration Professor, Dumbledore commented,
"My, the elves have outdone themselves with your wife's dinner. That steak is one even Hagrid would find hard to finish."
Slanting a curious look down the table, stygian eyes narrowed at the sight of a fork lifting a piece of meat with an exceedingly pink center. Before the morsel could reach full lips, his wand was out and the enormous steak vanished. After her teeth bit down on the tines of a fork, Lorelei stared blankly at her empty plate before gazing his way with an uplifted brow. He returned her indignant stare with an implacable one. Huffily, his spouse conjured a parchment and quill, scratched out a short message, and then created a paper butterfly that magically fluttered down to land on the table in front of him. Picking the missive up, he unfolded the note to read,
Why did you do that?
Not having to conjure a quill, because he always kept one in a pocket, Severus quickly replied, transfigured the butterfly into a black bat, and sent it swooping down to the impatiently waiting woman. After untangling the paper from where it had flown into spiraled hair, his wife bit her lip while reading,
Undercooked meat poses a risk of toxoplasmosis and other parasites. Medium well done is acceptable. Enjoy.
Smiling ruefully, Lorelei sent an apologetic look his way before cutting into the new, smaller, and properly cooked steak that had appeared before her. An assessing glance at his colleagues showed that the by-play had not gone unnoticed. Flitwick, Tonks, Hagrid, and Malfoy were snickering, while at the other end of the table, Sprout observed in a voice that was no doubt useful in reaching the ears of pupils at the opposite end of a greenhouse,
"Hah! Never thought I'd see Snape treat a woman like a hothouse flower…I owe you a drink, Minerva."
Under his steely gaze, the older witch closed her eyes momentarily before explaining weakly,
"Pomona and I made a...friendly wager…on the likelihood of you being a…overly-vigilant…expectant father."
Albus, who had been taking a sip of coffee, started coughing spasmodically. The uncomfortable woman's attention eagerly turned away from the sight of the Potions Masters' scowl. Pounding on her partner's back, McGonagall said crisply,
"You have a right to choke. I believe you owe me two drinks!"
Affronted by sensible precautions being denigrated as 'overly-vigilant'…as though he were some neurotic…Severus tossed down his napkin and strode from the hall. An hour's peace and quiet in his laboratory produced a calm that vanished the moment he stepped into his private quarters.
Boxes were strewn around the lounge, and a trail of tissue paper led into the bedroom, where his wife was examining a jumper she had just lifted from the bed covered with clothing. Noticing him in the doorway, she smiled,
"Marina sent me some 'Siren's Secrets Maternity Wear'. Aren't these lovely? Not frumpy or tent-like at all!"
Leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms, Snape queried,
"What are you wearing?"
Looking down as though she had no clue, and judging from the amount of scattered garments she might not, Lorelei smiled and told him,
"This camisole can be worn day or night. Its fine cotton, and very comfy…the panties are cotton too, and are called underbelly, funny name, but so…"
"Let me guess…comfy."
Stepping forward, he found out for himself that the fabric was soft when he pushed up the ivory camisole to scrutinize the 'belly' that the matching panties left uncovered. At sixteen weeks, his wife was visibly pregnant. Thin lips curved with male satisfaction. Trailing agile fingers over smooth skin, he asked,
"Do you think the child can hear me?"
Caressing fingers slid through black strands when he impulsively knelt and splayed his hands to measure the changing fullness,
"Well, the books say babies can now distinguish loud noise and be startled, so I think so. In fact…"
He looked up when she trailed off. An arched eyebrow caused a blush to tint cheekbones pink while she whispered,
"I think our baby wants to hear you say a poem."
"Which one?"
The flush covered her chest and face now,
"The Highwayman"
Memories of an unforgettable evening in the Room of Requirement flashed into mind. Lorelei had made a lovely Bess, the landlord's daughter, plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair… Pressing an open mouth kiss to her abdomen, his knowing gaze conveyed that he realized who really wanted to hear him recite. Using his darkest, silkiest voice, Severus said the words that made his wife's body move in a way that was anything but maternal,
Look for me by moonlight
Watch for me by moonlight
I'll come to thee by moonlight
Though hell should bar the way…
A week later, Lorelei cheerfully kissed him goodbye before she flitted off to a ladies poker night. It was the first one she'd been invited to join. The siren had giggled when telling him that Madam Hooch had patted her on the arm in the staff lounge earlier and promised to 'give her some pointers' to help her out. The corners of his mouth turned upwards when the deceptively innocent-looking woman looked back and smiled wickedly before making her way to the dungeon stairway. Every time they played strip poker, he ended up unclothed while she marveled wide-eyed at her 'good luck' and enjoyed the view. If only he could discover exactly how she was cheating…
Deciding that sitting home reading a text and thinking about his wife playing poker would only lead to frustration on several levels, Severus threw on a cloak and made his way out of the castle. Striding briskly down the path to Hogwarts, the man wondered if any villager with skill enough to provide him a challenge in darts would be at the Three Broomsticks that evening. Pushing open the door to the pub, his gaze was immediately drawn to the short, powerful figure currently decimating his opponent on the other side of the room. Dark, deep-set eyes gleamed when the master gardener noticed that his play was being observed. In a gruff voice with more than a trace of a burr in it, Gimli called,
"When I get done schooling this lad, professor, how about you giving me a proper match?"
Inclining his head in gracious acceptance, Snape traveled to the bar and leaned against it, waiting for the brassy-haired proprietor to finish serving another customer. On the barstool next to him, a diminutive figure slumped over an almost empty glass of ale. No bigger than Flitwick, the man wore clothing that looked and smelled like he'd slept in them many a night by a campfire. Interested despite his usual policy of non-involvement with strangers, Severus sat down and allowed the probable vagrant to make eye contact. Encouraged by the Potion Master's noncommittal expression, the tiny man observed,
"I don't see any women in here. They must all be at home with the children."
A faint curiosity was stirred by the wistfulness in the stranger's voice,
"Perhaps"
Leaning forward enough to strengthen the vagabond impression- personal hygiene was sorely lacking- the little man asked,
"Is your wife home with your children?"
Rosmerta plunking a glass down and pouring a finger of Ogden's Finest into it distracted Snape from delivering the curt response such interest in his personal life would usually garner. Taking a sip of firewhisky, he decided to be polite. Gimli had half a game to go, and he was bored,
"My wife and I are expecting our first child."
A look of grief crossed the face browned by exposure to wind and weather. Thick eyebrows drew together while the small hands pulled off a patched cap and twisted it between calloused fingers,
"I once expected a child."
Uneasy about continuing a dialogue with someone so emotional, the man in black started to edge away. A soft, feminine cough brought his gaze to the barkeep's. She gave the professor a pointed look that told him she wanted to hear the man's story- and he'd better ask the question if he wanted a decent drink in her establishment again. Frowning briefly to show that such tactics were contemptible, Severus deliberately kept his expression and tone neutral while he inquired,
"What happened?"
The floodgates opened,
"There was a young girl, a miller's daughter, who got herself into trouble. She wanted my help, and I was happy to take her child off her hands, to finally have a wee one of my own…" His chapped lips half smiled in remembrance, "I had a little house on a high hill, back then. I would've been a good father."
Diminutive face twisting in remembered anguish, the drifter spat bitterly,
"But on the day she'd promised to give the infant over for adoption, the girl up and changed her mind on account of some bloke coming along, promising to treat her like a Queen."
Resolving never to attempt to have a so-called casual conversation ever again, Snape muttered, after another prodding glare from Rosmerta,
"How…unfortunate..."
Sniffing audibly, the woman wiped her eyes on her apron and offered,
"Have another ale on the house."
Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, the little man bobbed his head,
"Thank you kindly, ma'am."
Placing a new glass beside the old, scarlet lips parted,
"I'm Rosmerta, pleased to make your acquaintance Mr…"
Shaking his head and gulping down half the ale in one long swallow, the sad little person demurred,
"Oh, nobody calls me mister- I'm just plain old Rumpelstiltskin."
A roar of triumph from across the room gave Severus the excuse he needed to slide off the barstool. Unwilling to offer his hand for contamination, the wizard nodded civilly and downed his whisky before joining Gimli and turning his full attention to the match at hand. The thought of losing his own child to the capricious whims of fate turned his aim dead-accurate. He won three matches in a row.
Two weeks later, strolling through the village on the way to the midwitch, Snape reflected that he was a fortunate man. His students were shuttled off to annoy their families for the holidays, and his wife was in glowing good health. Bundled up in layers of black, he marveled that Lorelei could feel 'toasty warm' in only a heather gray turtleneck and matching cashmere sweater. She used to cuddle up to him at night for warmth, but now he slept with his chest against her back and his hand upon her abdomen. The baby had been making his or her presence known internally and he wondered…
"Not for a few more weeks, Professor Snape. I know how impatient first time fathers are to feel the baby move, but you can listen to the heartbeat if you'd like."
The petite, experienced midwitch hastily offered a stethoscope after being sent a look that made her eyes widen in alarm while his wife sighed dreamily. Listening to the rapid heartbeat, his face softened. Taking a wide, shallow bowl down from a shelf, the gray haired woman smiled,
"Let's have a look at baby Snape, shall we?"
Together, he and Lorelei leaned forward to watch the liquid in the bowl become steamy as a spell was chanted to the four winds. When the vapors dissipated, an image formed upon the watery surface. It was their child. His child… Unprepared for the intensity of the possessive and protective feelings washing over him, the wizard could only stare transfixed. The babe was so small. Fine hair called Lanugo covered the growing body, and he could see that a waxy substance termed Vernix already protected the baby's skin. Onyx eyes widened. Had he just seen a smile followed by a scowl cross the tiny face? The midwitch chuckled when he asked the question,
"Yes, facial expressions can be seen now."
Clasping his hand and squeezing tightly, his wife breathed,
"Oh look, Severus, now he's sucking his thumb!"
Without looking away from the image that held all three riveted, he drawled,
"Or she's sucking her thumb."
In a voice choked with those illogical 'happy tears' Lorelei said,
"Boy or girl, our baby's beautiful."
Around a tiny thumb, the little mouth curved in a smile.
A/N: Yes, I love to fracture fairy tales, dear readers. First Rapunzel, now Rumpelstiltskin! I enjoy making them less Grimm, LOL Couldn't resist having Severus being forced to hear a hard luck story at the pub. Also couldn't resist putting Gimli from LOTR in as Hogsmeade's master gardener. If he throws darts like that axe…Snape didn't win by much! LOL The Highwayman was written by an Anonymous person, which probably means it was a woman! I ignore the ending and sigh over the romance. :D Review and make me smile like baby Snape!