Lady Moon slumbered during daylight hours, but still knew how to maker her presence felt.

Remus was too tired to do anything productive, but too irritable to sleep. He lay on top of the bed, fidgeting and changing position every few minutes as the oblivious satellite which ruled his life caused twitching in his limbs and paranoia in his mind, making him snap to alertness at every new sound or scent in the house.

These animal instincts had saved his life and countless others in battle, so he could no longer bring himself to condemn them as harshly as he had in his youth. He reached for the large bar of chocolate on the bedside table and nibbled at it, enjoying the temporary relief of warmth which flooded his insides. Outside, of course, the hair on his arms still itched, his nailbeds still throbbed and his teeth still ached in anticipation of the transformation in a few hours time, but at least he could take a brief moment of cocoa-induced comfort.

Trying to distract himself from the upcoming distress, he let his mind wander to more pleasant matters. The cub. Baby! Baby, he meant the Baby! Merlin knew what Severus would say if he caught Remus referring to his precious child as though she were an animal. Baby. Yes. Damned lycanthropy, clouding his mind already.

There was not long to wait now before he could actually hold her in his arms. The excitement was almost too much to bear. He wondered what sort of person she would grow into. Would she be dark-haired, like Severus, or fair, like him? He stifled a giggle as he thought about the magnificent Snape nose. Would she get that, too? It didn't really matter whether she did or not, she would still be beautiful to Remus.

It was likely that she would be clever, as Severus had already stocked up on books and educational toys to stimulate her mind, and they had discussed the opinions of several leading infant-care books on how to enhance mental development without putting the child under pressure. Severus' ferocious determination that she should never pushed too hard had spoken volumes about the potion master's own childhood, and Remus whole-heartedly agreed. Just as babies arrived when they were ready to arrive, so children's minds developed at their own pace. Neville Longbottom, for example, had struggled through his earlier years at Hogwarts, then had hit sixteen and suddenly got into his stride, graduating with some of the best NEWT grades in his year. A promising career beckoned for the little boy who had been so shy and clumsy that all had despaired of him.

He knew he had begun to fantasise now, but indulged himself anyway. She was certain to be as graceful as Severus. Taking both her fathers into account, she ought to be slim, too. A Griffindor or a Slytherin? Perhaps neither, that didn't really matter, but he would be very, very surprised if she wasn't a witch. It was highly doubtful that she would fail at Potions, or Defence Against the Dark Arts, with one of her fathers being a werewolf and the other so experienced in the most dangerous forms of magic.

She might be the one to finally invent a cure for lycanthropy! Or she might use her Slytherin heritage to become a powerful politician and work against the dreadful prejudice and injustice in the wizarding world. Even for a fantasy, that was pushing it. But what harm could it do? He was distracting himself from his discomfort and it was fun.

He would never dream of hassling the little girl by laying down unreasonable expectations, but who could tell what the future would bring? Had Mrs Dumbledore been aware, the first moment she held a mewling and bloodied Albus, that she had just created the most powerful individual for generations? Had Lily had any inkling of the amazing things tiny Harry would achieve? James had dreamed of fathering another school Quidditch star, and that dream had come true. If only he had lived long enough to find out.

Thinking of James and Lily made him uncomfortable. Had they lived, they could not possibly have approved of the current situation – but had they lived, Harry would have experienced an entirely different life and history would have run an entirely different course. Remus would take care of their son for them. He made the silent promise to the memory of his friends.

He and Harry had only kissed so far, but what kisses they had been! All the emotions which had been bubbling inside Remus for the last few years had swirled madly through his body the minute those velvet lips had touched him. Delight, fear, tenderness, guilt and love, love LOVE! It had been intoxicating. And the wolf had not stirred at all, which was gratifying, given his earlier worries after his wild night with Severus. Harry seemed to get sexier each time Remus looked at him – his eyes a deeper shade of green and his arse even perkier – it was still inconceivable that such a perfect young creature could want to throw his life away on a battered werewolf old enough to be his father.

How badly Harry needed someone to take care of him! He had been through so much. Despite his twenty one years, he still craved the same support and guidance as a child in some areas. For all his magical powers, he was still vulnerable. Remus had tried as best he could to look after the youth as a friend and a mentor, but the job would be so much easier if he was also a lover. During their frank discussions about the tentative relationship, Harry had spoken of his urge to protect Remus, too. They would be partners, equals, taking on life's great struggle side-by-side. It was going to be wonderful.

He would surely come round to the idea of the baby. Harry was such a lovely young man, he would love Remus' daughter the minute he saw her. Assuming Severus allowed him to see her, that is. He buried his face in the pillow in frustration. Why did it all have to be so complicated?

He heard the floo flare in the living room, and Harry calling his name.

"In here," he replied, sitting up and tidying his hair. His heart leaped at the sound of that dear voice, but he would rather the boy did not have to see him in this state.

"Hello," beamed Harry, looking scandalously good in a cut-away red robe and tight jeans. "Oh, you don't look well. Full moon, I suppose?" He strode up to the bed and placed a palm against Remus' forehead. "Can I get you anything, Gorgeous?"

Lupin leaned into the touch and sighed with happiness as Harry removed his hand and pressed a tender kiss to the top of his head.

"No, thank you," an unexpected scent drifted past his nostrils and he looked up sharply. "Why do you smell of Severus' house?"

"Ah," said Harry, turning serious and sitting down on the bed. Remus sniffed again.

"You also smell of stale fear. What on earth had been going on?" he demanded, growing rather harsh as the wolf awoke and began to take an interest.

Harry looked shifty for a moment as he concocted a plausible story.

"I went to speak to him," he lied quickly.

"Why?" growled Lupin, his eyes suddenly more yellow than before.

"About you, of course," Harry smiled, though the hairs on the nape of his neck were all standing on end. "This is a tricky situation, I wanted to work things out."

"So you went ahead without me?" his voice sounded threatening even to his own ears, but the wolf was nudging his human consciousness out of the way. Why had this youngster been near his mate and the cub?

"No, Remus, it wasn't like that!" Harry was alarmed now, and a little aroused by the unusually husky quality of his tone. "Snape and I have a whole history of antagonism. We really need to get over it, for your sake!"

Remus stared at him silently for a moment. Harry swallowed nervously. Merlin, the werewolf was so hot when he was like this! Hopefully he could not smell the dishonesty or there would be trouble.

"And did you get over it?" he asked at last.

"No," pouted Harry. "He threw me out."

Remus nodded. That certainly explained the fear. He could imagine Severus, standing, wand raised, bellowing at Harry to get the hell out of his home. That was enough to cause fear-scent in even the bravest wizard.

"Are you all right?" asked Remus considerately. It had probably taken all of the pregnant man's restraint not to curse Harry into the middle of next week.

For the second time in his life, human-Remus heard the wolf speaking inside his head.

Forget green-eye whelp! What about mate and cub? Hurt?

'Good point,' Remus thought back to it. Severus really shouldn't be stressed in his condition.

"Is Severus all right? You shouldn't go upsetting him, you know," he chastised. "It's bad for the baby."

Harry crossed his arms across his chest, hating the fact that the blasted baby had usurped Remus' concern for him again. So much disruption and the thing wasn't even born yet!

"He's fine. I'm fine. We're both fine," he sighed, knowing that it wasn't Remus' fault. He redirected his anger towards the devious man who deserved it. "But I would love a cuddle."

Remus sighed and slipped his arms around the young man, ignoring a mild snort of protest from the wolf.

"Very well, but just a little hug, then you have to leave. I don't want to you to see the transformation," he shuddered. He imagined it to be the least seductive thing you could ever see. There was no way Harry would want him after watching that.

"I've already seen it once," the young man whispered. This could be a major point-scoring area – he knew that Snape's awful childhood experience would make him afraid of anything concerning the change.

"Please don't remind me about that night," he would never forget it. The night he had almost killed Sirius and the children. The second time he had almost killed Snape; this time through his own irresponsibility. What a shameful memory. "Don't take it the wrong way, Harry love. I've developed ways of coping with the trauma over the years and they rely on solitude. I'm not ready to have anyone else there yet. I'm not rejecting you. Please understand. It's not a pleasant experience."

Harry huffed but acquiesced. It would not do to nag Remus. He must provide the perfect antidote to Snape's acidic personality. He must not forget that he was constantly laying the foundations of the most important relationship of his life and must therefore tread very carefully. OK, so the greasy git had a cake in the cauldron, that was his major advantage; but Harry had charms which Snape could never dream of.

He fluttered his lashes at his boyfriend.

"All right, I'll go now. Take care, promise?" he kissed him again. "Love you."
Remus kissed him back.

"Love you, too."

Harry gently swayed his hips as he walked towards the door, certain that his rear would be watched closely. He certainly had the edge in that department.

…….

Fear made Severus' body simultaneously too hot and too cold, but knew what he had to do. It was a tremendous gamble, but if he pulled it off, he would blow Potter completely out of the stadium. After that afternoon's debacle, he needed to strike before the brat managed to arrange his muddled thoughts and assemble any kind of game-plan.

The moon shone brilliant white in a shimmering black sky as Severus took one last flick through the relevant section of 'Tacuinum Lycanthropis' – the definitive guide to the behaviour of the transformed werewolf – before wiping the sweat from his palms and stepping into the fireplace.

…….

The great grey wolf lifted his head as he heard the intruder trespass into his territory. He grimaced at the aftertaste of the weak-poison in his mouth. Weak-poison made the wolf disorientated and dizzy, but left him the strength to defend himself if necessary. What manner of creature dared to disrespect him thus? He crept towards the door of sleep-den and sniffed.

Mate! Mate was here!

He pushed open the door with his snout and peered into the outer-den. Yes, it was Mate. Tall and the colour of night standing on two legs by the burning-door. He smelled of cub-carrying-smell and of fear.

Fear? Ah, yes. Mate was trespassing and he knew it.

Severus almost fainted at the sight of the furry muzzle appearing in the doorway. Remus' black nostrils twitched and the recognition he saw in the amber eyes of the wolf made him breathe a sigh of relief. It was too early to relax though. Manoeuvring awkwardly because of his bump, Severus lowered himself to the floor and averted his eyes in a submissive gesture. The wolf gave a little whine.

Mate recognises whose territory this is! What a good mate! Smells good too! And so full of cub!

The wolf trotted forward, slowly, unthreateningly, wagging his tail so Mate could see he was not upset.

Severus slumped even lower at the sight and allowed Remus to sniff his hands and face. After a moment, he carefully began to stroke the soft fur. The wolf leaned into him and they nuzzled and stroked each other for a few minutes before the wolf began to yawn. The instant wolfsbane was obviously working well. Severus thanked every deity he could think of for the fact.

He stood after a few attempts and waddled to the sofa.

What? Where? Oh, floor too hard. Must find soft place to be safe with cub. Mate is a clever bitch to take care of cub like that. Mine! I must protect them!

Severus watched the huge creature inspect the room with every sense he had, before padding back to the sofa and curling up on the floor beneath his mate's head. He trailed a finger through the lovely warm fur and ran a weary hand over his own face.

He must have been mad to put the child at risk like this! All the texts assured him that werewolves were no different from any other creature with the urge to protect their young overwhelming all others, but it had still taken a tremendous amount of courage to confront his phobia head-on and in his weakened state. The rational part of his brain, which had been taking a lot of long lunches in the light of his recent erratic hormonal episodes, knew that Lupin had been fastidious about the administration of his wolfsbane ever since that horrific night at the Shrieking Shack. But nothing could ever erase the terrifying memory of claws, teeth and snarling in a confined space beneath the ground in that same place twenty years earlier.

The gamble had succeeded though. Lupin's wolf was clearly attached to its cub, and would make sure that the human would be physically unable to desert her completely. Let him shag Potter or as many other people as liked. Snape had just made certain that their daughter would be more important than any of them.

That was well worth the fear.

…….

The morning after full moon, Remus was used to being woken by the agony of his body twisting and snapping back into his human form. He was ready for the pain, sweat, blood and spasms as they kicked in that morning. He was not ready for the gentle hand carding through his hair afterwards.

"Shhh, Gorgeous, it's all right. All over soon. Shhh," a voice crooned softly, pulling a warm blanket around his broken body. Still feeling a little bit lupine, Remus sniffed the air to try and identify the other person in the room, but just as his senses were hyperactive the night before the change, so they were dull and useless the next day. All that happened was someone brought a handkerchief to his nose and instructed him to blow.

Cracking open an eye, he made out a blurred version of Harry, hovering devotedly over him. He managed a small smile.

"Morning," greeted Harry, gazing down in adoration as though he wasn't in a disgusting state. "I've made you some hot chocolate. Would you like it?"

Remus nodded dumbly. That sounded like the best offer anyone had ever made him.

Harry wrapped his steady hands around the older man's trembling ones and helped him to take a sip. Unable to restrain the groan of pleasure at the feeling of chocolately goodness warming his heart and soul, he let his head fall back.

Something was not right. His bed was an odd shape this morning. He looked around in puzzlement and found they were in his sitting-room. Harry seemed to understand his confusion.

"Yes, I thought you always stayed on your bed. When I came in you were on the floor in here, so I levitated you onto the sofa," he explained.

"Thank you," he croaked. "I don't know why I came out here. I never remember what the wolf does."

"Don't worry, Gorgeous," Harry soothed, taking a sip of chocolate himself before bringing the cup to the werewolf's lips. Somehow the little gesture of sharing the same mug was wonderfully intimate, especially coming from a man who could witness the damage done to his skinny old body and still call him 'Gorgeous'.

Remus decided that he could get used to Harry looking after him.

…….

"Severus, my boy, you look as though you haven't slept," frowned Dumbledore, fussing around him with blankets and teacups. He placed a hand on one of Snape's elevated ankles and drew in a sharp breath. "Your feet are like ice, child! Let me see…" He rummaged through the pockets of his robes until he pulled out a startlingly yellow and purple striped woollen ball, which turned out to be a pair of thick, knitted socks. "My emergency pair," he informed the potions master conspiratorially as he separated them and applied one to each swollen foot. Not having the strength to protest, Severus allowed the coddling. Wiggling his toes experimentally, he found them surprisingly cosy.

"Thank you, Albus," he sighed, sleekly falling into 'truth stretching' mode. "You are correct, I have not slept much. The combination of anxiety and being so big does not make for a comfortable night."

"Is there no potion you can take?" asked Dumbledore, the image of concern. Snape shook his head violently.

"I shall not risk my daughter's health for the sake of a few hours dozing," he sneered. "I will not dose her up with complicated magical compounds when she is scarcely bigger than a number two cauldron."

The old wizard smiled gently, comparing the maternal creature reclining before him with the stiff and grouchy man who prided himself on his hatred of the world. The indignity of having garish socks forced upon him would have had the potions master reaching for his wand in days gone by. But no hex was forthcoming today, doubtless because he was devoting all his magical energies towards gestating the baby. Despite the tiredness, Severus was looking plump and content. Like Molly before him, Albus concluded that this accidental pregnancy was the very best thing to happen to the troubled young man.

"I wanted to speak to you about Remus, dear boy," he broached the topic delicately, dreading any more fits of tears or fainting. When Snape merely nodded, he continued. "My initial reaction to your news was to condemn the relationship. Upon reflection, I would like to be in possession of all the facts before I wade in and start interfering."

Two black eyebrows shot up a pale forehead in surprise.

"Thinking before you act?" Severus knew the drill. Both wizards enjoyed a little gentle sparring. "You will be attending ceremonial functions in green and silver robes, next!"

Albus bobbed out his tongue then grew solemn and twinkled as though about to deliver a tenet of great wisdom.

"Hack me into as many bits as you like, Severus, I assure you that each one will be red to the core!"

Snape rolled his eyes expressively.

"Do not tempt me, old man. How long did it take you to think of that stunning piece of wit?" he groaned.

"Actually, it was one of Minerva's," Dumbledore grinned.

"Oh, taking up plagiarism for your retirement, as well as selling socks and sexually harassing Madam Puddifoot?" snorted Snape. Dumbledore raised both palms to the ceiling.

"There really aren't enough hours in the day, my boy," he smiled.

They continued the good-natured squabble for a while until Albus drew the conversation back to the main issue.

Severus grew thoughtful. What exactly did he want from Lupin? A cheerful and outgoing second father to his child, without doubt. But what else?

"I am not certain, Albus," he sighed. "It would be more convenient and better for the baby if we lived together as partners. With Pip's assistance, I believe we could deal with the lycanthropy issue and set up a workable domestic arrangement. However, Lupin is of a sentimental disposition. I doubt that I am capable of providing the necessary affection."

"You could live with him, but you could not love him?" Dumbledore translated.

"Precisely," agreed Snape, marvelling at the change in his own disposition. He had always thrived on silence and solitude, yet here he was, openly admitting that he could share his life with one of those blasted boisterous Griffindors. Anything for the baby. Anything at all.

"Yet there is obviously an element of attraction between you two," he gestured towards the bulging round abdomen. "She is living proof of that."

"A drunken evening," he said dismissively. "Nothing capable of competing with the adulation of a pretty young hero."

Dumbledore said nothing. Odd things were afoot here. He would talk to the others first of course, but as far as he could tell, this situation was crying out for some good old-fashioned meddling.

…….

A/N: Back again! Thank you once again for a hugely insightful set of mini-essay reviews! It's lovely to know people are really thinking about my scribblings. I really appreciate it.

Duj: Thanks for your kind words about this and its sad prequel – I had to write this sequel, I just couldn't leave it there. I'm delighted you are enjoying a genre you don't usually read! Re: your later comments. Shhh! My thoughts exactly! Those points will crop up later, along with the word 'honoured'! Harry, of course, will not get it at all.

Risi: I know, couldn't resist giving Fawkes a personality. I love Snarry but have no clue how to write it. Good point about Dobby (hands over a cookie for paying attention), not decided yet, but another person who was present at the miscarriage will certainly make an appearance…

Oya: So was I when I wrote it! I'm terrible for 'acting' as I type. My colleagues must think I'm bonkers.

Lucidity: Molly and Albus adore Harry, so who knows which way they'll swing? Someone for Severus? (Cackles).

AngelTalion: 'The Death Eater of Lurve'? That's a brilliant title! Write a fic! Write a fic!

Phinea Rogue: (Curtseys) Thank you madam.

ExcessivelyPerky: Don't write the brat…er sorry, I mean…Harry off just yet. And Severus keeps all his lists in his little book in case questions his own decisions later on. He's that kind of person. By the way, I had you in mind when I wrote Molly clutching Severus to her ample bosom in that last chapter! x

'Tacuinum Lycanthropis' – Bad Latin Alert, whoop whoop! Table of the Werewolf, or at least I hope so. Apologies to all you clever scholars if not x

Coming up: A bouquet, a letter and a (wince) medical examination. Or at least I think so…