AN: ok, now that I can stop worrying about my major essay for the semester (I somehow managed a distinction) I can focus more on more important things. Now, some might hold the misconception that these more important things would somehow involve my incredibly inconvenient exams that are coming up soon, and while I acknowledge their existence, I am choosing to focus on things that I actually enjoy for a few more days before I start the ritualistic 'I-am-so-stressed-how-will-I-ever-survive-this-torturous-excuse-for-an-education-I-wonder-if-it's-too-late-to-drop-out' phase, before progressing to the ever popular 'fuck-it-all-who-needs-a-fucking-higher-education-anyway' phase, and eventually maturing to the 'grim-resignation-and-eventual-acceptance-of-responsibility-and-just-doing-the-damn-work' phase. Rough translation, I don't know how long it will be between updates. Now, thank you to the people who reviewed, sorry about the wait. There is swearing in this chapter (there's swearing in the authors notes, what did you expect?) so once again, sorry if that offends. Let me know what you think.
Bloody Gryffindors! Bloody fucking Gryffindors! Every single one of them should be magically bound and gagged. Yes, all of them should be either locked up in ridiculously small cages or chained to a wall. Outside. In the snow, or the rain, I'm not terribly picky. I suppose, however, that it would be somewhat acceptable to chain some of them to places other than a wall outside. Some could be chained inside. And some, through completely random selection of course, could be chained to other places. Say, for example, to a bed. After all, I'm not cruel. I know that it would be far more productive to chain those who are weak, sick or extremely pregnant with my children to somewhere more comfortable than a wall, like a bed. But this does not mean that I am going to start thinking of all the possibilities that a magically bound Hermione could present. No. I won't. I'm almost positive that thinking such thoughts is bound to be counter productive. Ok, breathe. Just breathe…Professor, you are not breathing. Ok, fine, don't breathe. Do whatever you bloody well want. Just as long as you don't think of Hermione bound to your bed, completely unclothed, covered in a fine sheen of perspiration, writhing and moaning, begging you to…damn it, Snape! Focus!
Right, well. Uh…um. Bloody Gryffindors. Yes, that's it. Bloody fucking Gryffindors! Waste of fucking space Gryffindors. I fail to understand why they insist on this fruitless continuation on what they dare to deem an education. It simply wastes their time, and more importantly, my time. Twits. Perfect, now they're looking at me. Again. Damn, what the fuck are they waiting for? I know for a fact that they should have something else with which to occupy their prepubescent minds. Honestly, don't they have anything better to stare at? Surely they aren't attracted to my ruggedly handsome features or my boyish good looks. Try not to sneer too obviously at that thought.
Bloody fucking Gryffindors! Maybe I should just hand out some satisfyingly disgusting detentions and be done with it. Or perhaps I could just content myself with deducting as many Gryffindor points (along with some from Hufflepuff, come now, we must be fair in our unfairness, no need to exclude the Hufflepuffs) as is humanly possible. Wait, humanly possible? And may I ask just how long you have been concerning yourself with the restrictions of humanity in the deduction of house points? Particularly from Gryffindor? That is hardly the point. Go on then, ignore the fact that you've only been in the class for five minutes and find excuses to deduct some points. Surely it won't be difficult, the fact that they are an unhealthy mix of idiotic Gryffindors and overly eager Hufflepuffs who make a valiant attempt at destroying your classroom at least once a week very nearly constitutes a reason. Right, get to it. Go on, staring at them will not produce detentions. Nor will it result in a deduction of points. Come on, take the initiative. It's a quite commonly known fact that glaring at students is often followed by insults, tears and recriminations. All in quick succession.
"What are you all waiting for?"
Good. Menacing. Direct and to the point, just what I like to hear. Of course, it would have been better if you managed to have even a minor affect on them. They're still staring, now with their mouths wide open. Young bloody kids these bloody days. They have absolutely no respect for my authority. Do they think that all the menace and intimidation I exude during lessons is the product of boredom? A sadistic desire to see them squirm? Not at all. It is all purely for their own good. I find absolutely no enjoyment in bellowing (or hissing) at students for minor misdemeanours, deducting points holds very little pleasure for me and I certainly don't relish making small children cry. It is all for their own good.
Yeah. Right.
"Uh, Sir?"
Ah, yes. One of the braver (or more idiotic) female Hufflepuffs. I wonder what she has to say, she looks a little anxious. Good.
"What?"
Again with the menacing tone. Very good.
"You haven't given us any instructions."
Oh, shit. You were too fucking busy with your damn dramatic entrance and your bloody billowing robes that you forgot to bloody tell them what to fucking do. And don't even get me started on how your less than appropriate Hermione fantasies has affected your teaching. Ok, don't panic. Just scowl until the little chit backs off and think of a way to get out of this, preferably without looking like an incompetent fool.
"I was under the impression that at least one of you would remember that you were to write an essay discussing the properties and uses of the potion you were completing last lesson."
Impressive.
"But, Sir, we did that for homework. Don't you remember?"
This girl mustn't value her life very much. Though she does have a point. Dammit. Buy yourself some more time, narrow your eyes and scowl.
"Thank you, Miss Grant. I am well aware of what I set you for homework, however, I was of course referring to the fact that you were to complete this essay under test conditions. But, if you and your classmates would prefer to make a potion then you may begin, instructions are on the board. Miss Grant, if you have no further views on the subject then I suggest you begin. Oh, of course, ten points should be taken from Hufflepuff for your insolence. No talking, begin."
Nice recovery. And you managed to deduct points, very impressive. Though you could have been a little more menacing, oh well, next time. Now, all you need to do is keep your mind focussed. Don't think about Hermione and you'll make it through the class. Right. Yes. Good. Now, sit down and look busy, important and unapproachable. Take away points for that projectile incident, shuffle parchments, ignore that tapping, glare at the girl in the front, whisper some instructions, ignore that tapping, bellow at the Gryffindors, hide your satisfaction at being able to bellow at the Gryffindors, ignore that tapping, glare at the flying fluxwood, take some more points, ignore that tapping. No, I said ignore that tapping. Damn it, Snape! Stay focussed, remain completely still, ignore that…bloody hell! What is that blasted tapping?
"Uh, Sir?"
Yes, it is official. That girl definitely has a death wish.
"What now, Miss Grant?"
"I think that owl wants to come in."
I follow the direction of her pointing finger and see a rather dishevelled looking owl tapping furiously at the window. Strange, it looks remarkably like Potter's owl. No, it simply cannot be Potter's. There is only one possible reason he would ever write to me, and that would be to give me news of…oh holy fuck. Hermione. Suddenly overtaken by insane urge to charge across the room, students and other more immobile obstacles be damned. Breathe. Just breathe. You do realise that you are staring in horror at a bird, don't you?
"The ever observant one aren't you Miss Grant? Back to work, all of you. No talking."
Cool, calm collected. Do not run, just casually stomp over there and let the damn bird in. Good, now, carefully take the parchment and…damn that hurt, yes, definitely Potter's bird. Typical, bloody typical, he trains it to attack me. Focus! Right, so casually unroll it, control your facial expressions, and kindly remember to breathe.
Professor,
We've taken Hermione to St Mungo's. She wants you to come as quickly as possible, she would also like me to remind you that it is in fact your fault that she is in this uncomfortable position and if you don't come to meet her, balls will be hexed. More specifically, yours. On another note, we would both like to remind you not to freak out. She will be fine, and we can only assume that the babies will come out relatively unharmed. If not, there's always therapy. Please hurry, Hermione is getting restless (and a little violent), so meet us at St Mungo's. Oh, and did you ever notice that Hermione is a little scary when she's in pain? I think she broke my arm.
Harry
"You've got to be fucking joking!"
My voice rings out a lot louder than I intended and there is a collective intake of breath from the students. I glance up sharply at the sound and aim a glare at no one in particular. Returning my interest to the parchment in my hand, I read over it one more time. I can't believe I said that out loud. All those years of building up a reputation that was not to be trifled with. Now, five minutes into lunch every single student and all the damn staff will have heard of my little lapse of concentration. Damn it, Snape! Why do you always have to lose your damn mind in front of a pack of Gryffindor students? Ok, breathe. Just breathe. It would do absolutely no good to panic right now. No, you must keep your wits about you. Chances are you're already in for a 'now my boy we must be a little more prudent whilst in the company of students, mustn't we' lecture from Albus, and more than likely a rant from Minerva about corrupting her precious Gryffindors. No, now is definitely not the time to lose your mind. Especially because once I lose my mind it will be quickly followed by a panic attack, an embarrassingly public breakdown then a very inconvenient bout of institutionalisation. No, that would not do at all.
Hey, genius, as much as I loathe to point out the glaringly obvious, I feel I really must remind you that you've been staring at a piece of parchment for the last five minutes. May I also remind you that your reputation is already in quite a critical condition, now, being labelled as someone who is fearful of parchment, would hardly revive it. Oh gods, must find Hermione. Dismiss the dunderheads, send word to Albus and get gone. Ok, go on. Do it. Stop staring at the damn parchment and do something constructive. Or just stand there with your mouth open, that's good too.
"Uh, Sir?"
Damn that girl and her fucking persistence. With a long suffering sigh, I turn my head towards the ever annoying Miss Grant.
"Yes, Miss Grant?"
"Are you ok?"
Merlin, this girl is a nosy little so and so.
"I don't think that that is any concern of yours Miss Grant. Ten points from Hufflepuff. Back to work"
Oh gods, I need to focus. Ignore the class and think. Harry bloody Potter, who does he think he is? Urging me not to, how did he put it? He urges me not to freak out? Is he trying to imply that I overreact to situations such as this? Bloody cheek! Bloody Potter! What would he know? A terminal bachelor with dung for brains is hardly qualified to give me marital advice. And just what is he doing with Hermione anyway? He has no business there. I knew there was something amiss as soon as I saw his bloody owl. After all, an owl coming from Potter can never be a good thing. And just what does he mean the children will come out relatively unharmed? No child of mine will undertake any form of therapy. No, they will wallow in their misery and find an entirely inappropriate and ridiculously dangerous outlet for their pain and frustration. Like joining a psychotic sadomasochistic semi-exclusive cult hell bent on exterminating a large portion of the population, just like their fucking father. Oh yes, they will be causing destruction and mayhem, but with a song in their hearts and a post card for their mother.
Bloody hell! I'm not ready for this. Three bloody babies! I can't handle this, I definitely can't handle this. Ok, breathe. Just breathe. You have to get going, Potter's note said that Hermione would be at St Mungo's. Gods, how I hate that place. Ok, focus. You need to walk calmly out of the room after you dismiss the students, walk calmly to Albus' office and explain the situation, walk calmly to the apparition point and Apparate to St Mungo's. Then quickly (but calmly) locate Hermione, and go from there. Ok, you got that? Bugger that, just run. Forget the class, forget Albus, just fucking run.
"Good afternoon, Professor. We were wondering when you were gonna show."
Bloody Potter, how can he be so damn cheerful when Hermione's in pain? Oh gods, Hermione, in pain. Because of me. All my fault, she'll hate me. Ok, breathe. Just breathe.
"Bloody hell! What'd you do? Run all the way from Hogwarts?"
Bloody Weasley! What would he know? Is it my fault that the staff at St Mungo's can't handle pressure? Honestly, they were acting as if I were threatening with an Unforgivable for fucks sake. I only said I'd hex them all if they didn't tell me where Hermione was. They're the ones who overreacted, the whole situation was blown completely out of proportion. And it was all their fault.
"Good afternoon, Severus. How are you?"
Bloody Lupin, what the fuck is he doing here anyway? He certainly has no business here. And what does he mean how am I? What kind of fucking question is that?
"Hermione. Where is Hermione?"
An uneasy glance is traded between the three of them.
"Uh, Professor, there's something we should really tell you. Well, you know that Hermione's not actually due for a few more weeks, we weren't expecting to be here."
"Get to the point, Potter. What is wrong with my wife?"
Ah yes, and here comes the ever amusing panic attack.
"Nothing, well sort of nothing."
Oh. Holy. Fuck.
"Sort of nothing? And what exactly do you mean by that, Mr Weasley?"
"Severus, why don't you sit down and we'll explain."
Is that supposed to be an understanding tone? Bloody Lupin.
"I don't want to sit. But if you don't tell me what the hell is going on then I will tear this building apart if it is necessary to find Hermione myself!"
"Calm down, this is a hospital, there is no need to get that way. We just want to tell you that there have been some slight complications, and Hermione has to have the babies the Muggle way."
"What's the Muggle way?"
"Severus, I strongly suggest you take a seat. You aren't going to like this."
"Lupin."
"Amazing. When did you learn to growl like that, Professor?"
Bloody Potter, thinks he's so fucking funny.
"Very well, you insist on behaving that way, I'm not going to stop you."
Damn right you're not going to stop me. Oh, brilliant Snape, I'm sure he's once again incredibly intimidated by your threatening inner dialogue. Imbecile.
"Severus, are you listening? Now, as you know, ordinarily they just perform a simple Birthing Spell when it's time, but there have been some complications in Hermione's case."
Ah, and here comes the embarrassingly public breakdown.
"What do you mean, complications?"
"Well, to be perfectly blunt, it would have been impossible to perform the Birthing Spell without potentially causing harm to either the babies or Hermione, so she's had to, er, do it manually, so to speak."
"Manually?"
Oh dear, my voice has gone all high pitched and squeaky, it hasn't done that in years. This is so embarrassing.
"Yes, well, she's had to, er, push them out. You know, the Muggle way."
"What? But, they won't fit."
"Honestly, Professor! Don't be so dense, of course they will. The mediwitch will just have to make a little more room for them if necessary."
Make room? Is that even fucking possible?
"Make room?"
"Do you know anything about Muggle birthing procedures?"
"Potter, I have never had a need to know them."
"Well, I'm not going to tell you. I don't think you necessarily need to know."
"They're going to cut her open."
"RON!"
"Well, they are."
"C-cut open?"
Oh holy fuck. I definitely cannot handle this. Why are they going to cut her open? What kind of incompetents have they got working here that they can't perform a simple Birthing Spell? Oh gods, I can't breathe. I need to sit.
"No, not exactly. They'll only cut her open if necessary, she'll probably tear on her own."
They're going to cut her open if she doesn't tear on her own? What kind of barbarian medicinal atrocities do these fucking Muggles put into practice?
"T-tear?"
"Boys, that's enough. He still hasn't heard the other news. You know, the biggy."
"Oh, right. Well, guess what," bloody Weasley, his face is positively alight with fucking glee, "you are actually having four babies."
"What?"
Oh yes, voice is definitely too high for comfort now. I'll never live this down.
"Four children."
Oh gods, Hermione and I had enough trouble agreeing on names for the first three! I can't deal with that particular discussion with anyone anytime soon.
"It's not possible."
"Is too, and one of them is a Malfoy."
Oh.
"Yes, and another is a Weasley."
Holy.
"The third is actually Sirius' child"
Fuck.
"Yes, Severus, only one of them is yours."
"And that one is destined to be in Hufflepuff."
"The other three belong in Gryffindor."
"It's not fucking possible!"
Ah yes, there is definite panic in my voice now. Well, at least they're finding it funny. They look like they're ready to start rolling around on the floor just to prove how funny my pain is. Bastards.
"Haven't you ever noticed that when magic is involved, anything is possible?"
"This isn't funny."
"Oh, but Professor, it is. You see, the look on your face would be enough to make anyone start laughing their arse off."
"Wait, that wasn't true?"
"Are you mad? You actually believed us?"
Fucking bastards.
"Honestly Professor, that wouldn't have fooled anyone. You must be i really /i stressed."
Fuck you.
"Well I suppose it's sort of understandable, you've never really been able to think straight where Hermione's concerned. Losing your touch in your old age?"
Fuck you too.
"But, in all honesty, Severus, I feel we must apologise, we didn't have much time to come up with anything convincing, we really had to go with what first came to mind. I'm surprised you believed us for so long."
"I didn't believe it."
"Oh, you didn't?"
"Not for a second. It was all absolutely ludicrous, no chance in hell I believed you. Wouldn't deceive a child."
"Coulda fooled me."
Bloody Weasley.
"Kindly refrain from joking about my wife's medical situation or about her fidelity or I will personally hex you until you aren't even remotely recognisable as-"
"Severus, relax. None of what we just told you is true so there is absolutely no need for violence." wanna bet? "And as you didn't believe us for a second anyway, your threats really are unnecessary. But thank you for humouring us for so long." bloody Lupin "Anyway, the Birthing Spell was performed successfully more than an hour ago. Your wife, with incredible presence of mind, told us to try and let you deal with some of your, er, issues, before you went in there and started ranting."
I don't have issues. They're the ones with bloody issues…damn it, Snape! Focus.
"Birthing…successful?"
Oh gods, breathe. Just breathe.
"Yes, Professor. Three healthy babies, two girls and a boy."
"Hermione?"
"Is fine, a little tired, a little overwhelmed. She wants to see you as soon as you feel up to it."
I'm going to meet my children. Well, I don't suppose they would count it as a meeting, especially as they are only an hour old. Damn it, Snape! Focus! Wait, they've been around for more than an hour and I still haven't seen them? What the fuck is going on? Hermione sent these imbeciles to distract me because she thought I would overreact? What is with everyone? I act completely rationally at all times. I never overreact.
Yeah. Right.
"Is something wrong, Professor?"
"I wasn't afraid."
"Of course not."
"Didn't think it for a minute."
"Severus Snape is never afraid, right?"
Bloody Gryffindors.
AN: ok, a few notes, I have no idea about wizarding birthing methods, I used this so I could have him freak out just that little bit more. Again, sorry for the delay, and PLEASE review.