As time wore on, Remus found that the baby occupied this thoughts more and more often. He would catch himself figuring out how to explain certain objects or events to someone who knew nothing about the world, grinning self-consciously as he realised he was obsessing.

But how could he help it? Soon the greatest event possible in the life of a human would happen to him and though the circumstances were not ideal, the timing could not be more perfect. He devoured every book connected with parenthood that he could find, and spent some nice mornings chatting with Molly, surely a greater expert on children than any of the theory-happy academics. Severus had not objected when Remus suggested they tell her – he too understood that she would be an excellent guiding force to have on their side. Her initial concerns had soon been overcome when Remus had brought the pregnant wizard to the Burrow with him, within minutes she had seen how pleased the normally grumpy man was with his condition. He remained curt and reserved, but the old malice was now absent, and he listened to Molly's reminiscences and tips with polite attention. Funny, she had thought as the parents-to-be flooed away from that first meeting, it was as though the professor had been waiting all his life to have that baby. He had certainly changed for the better.

Remus had taken to having supper at Severus' house most evenings. The meal was eaten in a comfortable silence, then they would retire to the sitting-room and discuss any new ideas about the child or the pregnancy for a little while before Remus went home. On the whole, they rather enjoyed these meetings and had formed a tentative bond of friendship based on the new life which they would soon be nurturing together. There had been no more sexual activity. The wolf had remained mercifully dormant, except for perhaps being responsible for Lupin's continuing urge to keep his mate safe and comfortable, which had him automatically plumping cushions on the sofa, and double-checking that the wards on the house were secure at all times. Snape referred to it as 'fussing'. Though strangely, given his vehemently independent streak, he never seemed to object.

Stepping cheerfully through the fireplace one evening before dinner, Remus was concerned to find the now enormous potions master sitting on the floor with his robes crumpled around him and silent tears flooding down his cheeks. He hurried forward.

"Severus! What is it? Is everything all right?" Snape wiped his sleeve wetly across his face and nodded. "Is it the baby? Is something wrong?" Shoulders still jerking with sobs, the dark-haired man shook his head as more tears swam in his swollen eyes. Remus was at a loss, terrified that something awful had happened. Kneeling down, he tried again. "Did you fall?"

"No," sniffed Snape, apparently too upset to even be ashamed of being so emotional. He held out his fist and opened his hand to show something to the werewolf. Lying in his palm was a tiny, tiny pair of pale pink woollen socks. Remus felt this did nothing to clarify, and stared blankly at Severus. "Albus sent them," he sobbed cryptically, clutching the gift to his chest.

"What's wrong with that?" Lupin asked gently, taking out his handkerchief and registering mild surprise when the Slytherin lifted his face and allowed it to be wiped.

"They're so small," he wailed, dissolving into total, trembling despair, obviously suffering from an acute hormone-induced upset. Remus took a minuscule sock and held it between his thumb and forefinger, inspecting it closely, relieved that nothing was really wrong. He had to agree, only the tiniest of feet would be wearing these bunny-soft little pink numbers. His brow creased slightly.

"Hang on, these are pink!" exclaimed Remus.

"This is Dumbledore we're talking about," grumbled Snape nasally. "If he's sent a pink present then he must know something we don't." He carried on crying freely. Remus could stand it no longer and pulled him into a big hug, pressing the wet face into his chest and stroking the black hair as soothingly as he could, not wanting to be seen smiling. His protective instinct had kicked in immediately on seeing the other man so uncharacteristically helpless and, well, sweet.

"Shh," he whispered. "You mustn't upset yourself, love." Snape clung to him, greedily accepting the comfort.

"How can I take care of something so small? So fragile and utterly dependent? A daughter," he hiccuped as he tried to stop crying. "A little girl. How can I do this? I'm a horrible man. How dare I have thought I was worthy of creating a new little person, and influencing a whole existence?"

Remus was smiling even more now. Poor Severus, torturing himself with thoughts like these. The enormity of the situation occasionally sneaked up on Lupin, too, he explained, but he promised himself that he would spend the rest of his life striving to do the best for his child.

"What if our best isn't good enough?" demanded Severus, muffled somewhat by a mouthful of cardigan. Remus kissed the top of his head.

"It will be," he promised firmly. "We'll make sure it is. And I believe these things happen for a reason. I mean, you didn't actively choose to get pregnant or anything." For some reason, this made him sob even harder.

Fifteen minutes later, Severus had cried himself out and Remus helped him to bed. Too exhausted by his episode to do much himself, he had allowed Remus to remove his outer clothing and tuck him underneath the covers, where he immediately snuggled down to sleep. Remus stood by the bed for a while just watching him, the round bump which by some miracle contained their daughter, rising and falling with Severus' steady breathing. He had never witnessed a full-scale mood swing before, though Snape had assured him that such bouts of irrationality could strike at any time, completely incapacitating him before evaporating as quickly as they had arrived. It felt good to be involved in yet another aspect of their child's life, albeit an odd one. Remus found it difficult to drag himself away while the protective urge was still in full force – he couldn't shake the idea that it was wrong to leave his mate alone in this state, but to stay and curl up next to him would breach the accepted boundaries of their association. Severus might be vulnerable at the moment, but there would certainly be big trouble if he awoke to find an unauthorised werewolf in his bed.

Sighing gently, he dropped a kiss onto the bump and left.

…….

Harry's research into the hazy domain of male pregnancy was proving very difficult. He managed to glean a little information here and there, but any serious records were vague or completely missing. The old tome he was currently fighting his way through, for example, was quoting exerts from the diary of a young witch who had married into the Desiato family, whose brother-in-law seemed to be sharing the exact symptoms of her pregnancy, while being incessantly fussed over by his 'very close friend, Roger'. The later half of the journal, it was reported, had been heavily censored, and when the author had attempted a copying spell on an entry describing the change in his figure, that entire week's pages had spontaneously combusted. The writer went on to link the incident with the painful case of spattergroit he suspiciously contracted a few hours later. Harry swallowed, making a mental note to be more careful in the future.

All that he had managed to discover was that only purebloods from the old noble families were affected. Smiling to himself, he wondered why he had never noticed just how in-bred Snape looked. All pale, weedy and sickly. Sirius had been right when he called him a freak and an oddball, he would have absolutely loved to taunt him about being an hermaphrodite, or whatever you called a child-bearing male. He wouldn't be impressed about Remus' role in the affair though. Harry still didn't understand how had Remus had allowed himself to be trapped like that. And what had he been doing with Snape in the first place? He was wealthy now, thanks to his best-selling war memoirs, he could afford any potions from the shops in Diagon Alley, and the invention of instant Wolfsbane meant that any werewolf capable of boiling water could render himself safe at full moon without any assistance from a potions master.

Knowing he could not put it off any longer, he went to see Remus.

Lupin stood when Harry entered the kitchen, a mixture of joy and apprehension on his face. Harry's trainee auror's instincts noted the title of the book, '100 More Incantations for Infants', and he couldn't resist pursing his lips. Remus looked at the book.

"It...er...it's," he floundered.

"I know about Snape," Harry said, as evenly as he could. "And about the baby. I suppose I should congratulate you."

"Thank you. How did you find out? No one is supposed to know," Lupin was regarding him anxiously now.

"I overheard Dumbledore talking to you at the wedding."

"Oh, I see," he gestured towards a chair. "Won't you sit down?"

There was a painful silence, until Remus recovered enough to offer drinks. Harry took a glass of fresh lemonade and sipped it pensively, wondering how on earth he was supposed to begin. Lupin beat him to it.

"So," he said with forced cheerfulness. "I suppose you're a qualified auror now!"

Harry's face darkened. Not the best opening.

"No," he answered with forced calm. "I failed one of my exams. I have to resit."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry," Remus commiserated, inwardly cursing his lack of tact. "But I'm sure I've heard Tonks say that most people fail at least one – she had to resit the stealth-tracking test four times, didn't she?"

"Five," corrected Harry. "I got the highest marks ever on the duelling practical. But apparently my potions theory was the second-lowest grade the current examiner had given." He noticed Remus go suddenly stiff and become very interested in his fingernails. "He's an odd one, Professor Hardtbrind," the young man continued, "I met him during the practical. He said I was a perfectly competent brewer, then he goes and savages my written paper. Weird."

Remus opened and closed his mouth a few times, before his Griffindor sense of honesty prevailed.

"Harry, Hardtbrind did not mark your theory paper," he muttered, staring at the floor.

"What?" Harry was momentarily confused. "Well then who…oh! Oh, I see. Right. I suppose he didn't attend the practical exam for the safety of the baby," the last word was spat, rather than spoken. Lupin regarded Harry steadily.

"That's right. He has to be careful. He would never risk harming our child," he said calmly.

The words 'our child' were too much for Harry. He leapt up, his chair crashing onto the tiles behind him.

"Remus! For Merlin's sake! You're not really taken in by this are you?" he yelled. Lupin shifted in his seat but said nothing. "I don't know what he's up to, but you can't trust him! He's a devious, calculating, manipulative snake! And you can't love him! Please, Remus," he was leaning over the werewolf now, the flush of anger in his cheeks belied by the mournful round eyes. "Please tell me you don't love him!"

Remus was utterly confused, and a little unnerved at the way the beautiful young man was behaving. But he couldn't help noticing how the heightened colour suited him, and the charming way he was chewing his lower lip was a treat to be saved for, er, later. He seemed to be very emotional today. Remus shook these thoughts away and took a deep breath to answer the question.

"No, Harry. I don't love Severus. Why is that so important to you?"

Relief flooded through the trainee auror. Now was the perfect opportunity to confess, but how the hell was he going to face the consequences of what he was about to say? A coward's plan began to form in his mind as he gazed at Remus, looking so attractive in his confusion – amber eyes full of concern, little moustache quivering. Deciding he was worth any potential embarrassment, Harry cleared his throat and blurted;

"Because I love you."

Then Harry ran.

…….

A/N: Excrement/ventilator interface! Next time, Harry might get a plan and Remus might get a headache… And I don't think we've seen the last of the Secret Weapon, either.

Thank you again for some charming reviews, you lovely lovely people! I know HP is being a bit of a turd at the moment, but as I seem to be physically incapable of anything other than a happy ending, I'm sure it will all turn out for the best!

…….

Another Note: Thank you for your wonderful responses to my therapy-piece "Business as Usual" which I couldn't help but write during an angry half hour after the news of the bombings came through yesterday. I felt much better as soon as I'd finished it, and I'm thrilled to note that we are pretty much back to normal here already. It has been great to see all the messages of support from total strangers (on this site as well as out there), especially as just 24 hours earlier we were partying in the streets over the 2012 Olympics! Life is a series of ups and downs.

Once again, thank you.

With love, Snape's Nightie, London, 8th July 2005 x