When Hedwig arrived with Hermione's letter and potion, Hermione was perched on her bed, her legs crossed, nibbling on her supper of cheese and ham sandwiches. The book 'A Witch's Guide To Pregnancy and Birth' was propped on her lap as she leafed through it.

As Hedwig landed on the foot of her bed and lifted her leg for Hermione to take the letter, Hermione sighed. Hedwig arriving was about the eighth interruption she'd had since she'd cracked open the pregnancy book half an hour earlier. She had transfigured the front of the book to look like one of her Charms texts, but still jumped every time someone entered the room.

Only the professors and Poppy had any idea of her condition and Hermione had been working on how to somehow have this baby without any of her friends ever realizing she'd ever been pregnant, or who she was pregnant to. Maybe just turning up with a baby in her arms one day would work?

"No Ginny, I just found it on a doorstep. Isn't it adorable? Thought I'd keep it. What do you mean it looks just like Professor Snape? Don't be silly…"

It had potential…

She peered at the liquid in the bottle, then sniffed it suspiciously. It smelled vaguely of cinnamon. She unrolled the piece of parchment and ran her fingers over the lines, realizing that Severus had cast the same charm on the paper as she had.

Rather emotional?! Foolhardy?! Idiotic sacrifice?!!

Hermione snarled out loud, making Hedwig look up nervously from her bowl of owl treats.

"Sorry Hedwig," she apologized, leaning over to stroke the owl's soft feathers. Then she grabbed her quill and another piece of parchment and started writing angrily.

Severus was just about to step into a searingly hot bath, when the owl once again entered his private quarters.

Bloody owl is nearly as annoying as its master, Severus thought, waving his wand to cast a charm to keep the heat in the water. He took the parchment from the owl and pointedly ignored the creature's hungry look. He wasn't going to give the owl treats for bringing him annoying letters from know-it-all Gryffindor girls. Especially not for letters like this one.

Professor Snape,

How I cope with this is none of your concern, as you made abundantly clear after the act itself. I have friends and family and I can be surprisingly resourceful. You do not need to trouble yourself with the problems of foolhardy, idiotic, emotional girls. I'm sure you have far better things to be getting on with – being heartless no doubt takes up a lot of your effort and time.

How are you taking care of the Malfoy situation? Do not risk exposing yourself. I'm not entirely sure I will be around for him to get at, so risking your life would be pointless. And maybe even idiotic.

How do I know the potion you sent is safe, Professor? Surely I should trust a Medi-Witch over a professor who spends most of his life wishing he could kill all his students in a deadly, yet undetectable way? Don't think I haven't noticed the longing in your eyes whenever we're working with something especially poisonous.

I can assure you that I will never risk my life for you again. That is a promise.

Thank you for offering to look for a charm to protect us, but I'm going to ask Albus instead.

H.G.

P.S. Points to Gryffindor? Are you quite sure you should be out of Poppy's care? You must be still suffering from after-affects of the Crucio.

P.P.S. I do not need to know any meditation techniques. I am not bloody stressed!

Severus looked at the letter in astonishment. The tone was biting and, well, bitter. She sounded upset and furious with him and he wasn't sure what he'd done. So his letter hadn't been all loving and friendly. What, did she expect him to sign it 'love and kisses'?

Not around? Was she planning on leaving Hogwarts? Severus knew that he should be happy about that, after all the pushing he'd done, but… he wasn't. He liked having her near, so he knew what was happening to her. Especially now she was having his baby.

His baby. He'd finally managed to think of it as his baby. Not her baby or the baby, but

His baby. Except she blatantly didn't think of the child as anything to do with him. He knew that Potter and Weasley would be a bigger part of this child's life and the thought suddenly made his legs weak with misery.

He felt depression overcome him and sighed. He knew he didn't deserve a child, and emotionally had nothing to give it, but financially he could help. That he could give. He couldn't not do anything for Hermione. He reached into the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a flask of Fire Whiskey he kept there. Downing half the flask, he perched on the side of the bath and wrote Hermione her last reply.

Her words should have angered him, but instead they made him feel defeated and guilty. He finished the letter and looked around the room. Potter's owl had gone, no doubt annoyed at the lack of mouse-flavoured treats, so he attached the letter to his own owl, before stripping and sinking into the almost too hot water.

There. It was done. No more talk about the child. It would be nothing to do with him from this moment on, nor would the safety of Miss Granger be anything to do with him. She would just be another student until she left Hogwarts, and then she wouldn't be anything to him anymore. He closed his eyes and downed the rest of his drink, before summoning a full bottle from his bedside cabinet.

Sweet oblivion, he thought, as he took another gulp of the fiery liquid, closing his eyes as it burned its way down his throat.

Hermione had finally finished the chapter on birth in the Wizarding world and was feeling a little queasy. For a world where magic was meant to make things a lot easier, they certainly hadn't bothered to make childbirth any better. No drugs, no… anything. Just meditation techniques and some naff looking crystals. There were some potions that were safe and could help with the pain, but they weren't usually used. Basically, it said, 'there will be pain, get over it.'

Hermione felt panic rising in the throat. She'd never really thought she was the natural birth type of person and the pictures in the book of some unnamed witch, screaming in agony while the Mid-Witch told her to 'breathe' and 'mediate' really didn't change her mind. This was one book where Wizard photos were not beneficial.

A Muggle hospital, she decided. With drugs. And… drugs. And more drugs.

A jet-black owl flew into her room; the owl Hermione now recognized as belonging to Severus.

"Owls! More owls! Bloody creatures are everywhere!" Hermione heard the irate Medi-Witch shouting in the other room, as Severus' owl dropped her letter, then flew off, presumably past Poppy, who was seeing to someone's broken toe in the next room.

Hermione opened it, glowering at the letter before she'd read a word. He was such a bastard. He didn't care at all. All he cared about was his precious Slytherins.

Miss Granger,

Your opinion of me as heartless is one commonly shared by your fellow students, so I should not have been surprised that you too were of that opinion, although I had hoped you had cause to know better.

I understand your anger and confusion. It is not an easy position you are in, and it must be even worse that you are in this situation completely without volition. I will not do, or say, anything else to hinder your progress in any way. You will do whatever you see fit to do. You have always been more than capable in any task you have undertaken and I am sure you will excel at being a mother.

I can only ask that you allow me to open a small savings account in your name. I have more money than I would ever know what to do with and I need to know that this child; our child; is taken care of. Think what it would mean to be able to stay home with the baby, or to get him or her the very best care money could buy. You would be financially secure and I would ask nothing in return.

Your reply on this matter is not needed. The bank account will be opened in the morning, and a sum of money will be transferred into it monthly. Whether you use it or not is up to you, but it is there for the taking. The details of the account will be owled to you sometime in the week.

The potion I sent is safe and tailored specifically to you, which means it will do you far more good than the generic potion Poppy is administering. If you mistrust it, have Albus check it for you on his next visit. I can assure you that out of all the students here, I would want to poison you the least. Although sometimes I have to admit it is tempting.

Mr Malfoy has been advised to try a new tactic - he is going to try being nice. As terrifying as I know that sounds, it would be beneficial to you both if you tried to be nice in return. It will at least stop him from trying any painful methods to win you over if he thinks he can do so by instead going against his very nature and actually being pleasant. Albus has been informed of this new change of tactics.

Stay on your guard and think about researching the Añanki tribe for a protection charm.

This is my last letter to you. From now on, I think we should not communicate outside of classes. I wish you the very best of luck with the rest of your life, Hermione. I want you to know that I never wanted any of this to happen, and I am very sorry that my carelessness and lack of presence of mind has put you in such a situation.

Yours,

S.S.

Hermione read the letter and then re-read it, before getting to her feet and pulling her robes over her hospital gown. She reached under the bed for the fluffy rabbit slippers Harry had got her from Hogsmede last year (their noses twitched, which Harry had found cute and Hermione had found strangely creepy), then she stalked towards the Dungeons, ignoring Poppy's protestations as she passed her.