Swaddled tightly, Hermione clutched her son tightly in her arms, the bag of baby essentials swinging off her opposite shoulder. Inhaling deeply, as if trying to calm herself, she climbed the two steps to his front door. The once stark white door was now coated in a smattering of soot and grime, the sun trying in vain to break through the homes, creating a barrier to the ground below. She shivered, goosebumps covering her skin.
Jostling the baby gently, she reached up and knocked. Her heart hammered in her chest wondering what reception she would receive from Severus.
Slowly the door creaked open, and he stepped back, allowing her in. Shakily, she stepped over the threshold and felt the wind of the door cut through her as he closed it quickly and he ushered her into the sitting room.
A room lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling piqued her interest, and it was apparent he was a fan of all the classics and more. Hermione liked people who could appreciate a good book.
"Can I?" He asked, indicating to the sleeping babe in her arms.
"Yes. Of course." She gently slid the baby into his father's arms and watched as Severus sat, stroking the boy's head with a pure gentleness and adoration she hadn't seen come from anyone else but herself.
Sitting on a lounge opposite him, she watched in awe as the man stroked the baby's cheek and saw Severus's face soften just slightly before a small smile tugged gently at the corner of his lips as he watched his sleeping son.
It was so foreign to him to be holding a child, and it was even more bewildering than the child he was holding was his own. It felt natural to him, and he felt as if there was a paternal connection to the child and he wondered if Ron felt the same pull towards the child even though, technically, he wasn't the biological father but didn't know that.
Sitting back in his chair, he patted the baby rhythmically on the back in a soothing manner. This came easily to him despite never having had anything to do with a babe this young beside Draco when he was born, but those moments were few and far between.
Perhaps the instinct came naturally, but all he knew was now he had the child in his life, and he would do anything in his power to protect him regardless of whether he carried the Weasley's last name or not.
"So," Severus began softly, not wanting to wake the sleeping babe in his arms.
"So," Hermione echoed, hoping he would take heed of this conversation.
"First, you can relax. You are perched on the edge of the lounge as if you are ready to leap into action should I try to murder you. Second, I'd like to talk about being in Lincoln's life, long term."
Exhaling, she visibly relaxed and leaned back, resting. He eyed her sideways and noticed she still looked exhausted, but not as sickly and pale.
"In what capacity?" She asked in question, jaw clenching tightly. "How are you meant to take a bold role in his life? I can't just walk up to Ron and drop a bombshell on him you are Lincoln's father, and he isn't. He would divorce me on the spot."
"And that's a bad thing? From an outsider looking in, it is obvious he treats you as if you are a doormat, little more than a trophy wife to hang off his arm as he trots across the globe in search of glory. What is he going to do in five or ten years when his performance is subpar, and they drop him from the team in favour of someone younger and stronger? It happens all the time in the sporting world. These athletes only have a short productive period before they are shelved in favour of someone greater."
She snorted derisively. "People seem to forget I have a perfectly suitable career as an Auror. I make just as much as he does. I could support us comfortably if I had to."
He wanted to say so much more but didn't want to press his luck any further and risk not seeing his son. "I'm just saying be careful, that's all. I don't think his affections lie as deeply as your own in that relationship."
"You know nothing about my relationship," she said evenly and coldly.
"I don't have to. I can see it from the outside looking in, Hermione. If it was all rainbows, you wouldn't have slept with me. If it was as perfect as you say it is, you wouldn't have had to use me to have a child to put a bandaid on a quickly failing relationship."
"We will beg to differ then." She folded her arms tightly across her body. "I did what I had to do."
"At the cost of me not getting to raise my son. Instead, he will be raised by a knuckle-dragging buffoon with half a brain-cell."
"Ron's smarter than you think, Severus," she interjected venomously, protecting her husband's honour but knowing deep down Ron wasn't the sharpest knife in the draw.
"If he was so smart, he wouldn't have chosen a career where he is beaten around the head daily," voice a half-whisper as eyes still laid upon his son in awe.
"I'm not here to argue with you. I'm here, so you can spend time with your son. I'm sorry that you won't get to raise him, and I am sorry if you feel as if I've trapped you."
"Trapped me?" He asked with a curious upward inflection. "You haven't trapped me. If I'd never read the paper, I would be none the wiser. You haven't trapped me; you've given me a gift that no one else ever has and I will be forever indebted to you."
"You aren't angry?"
"I'm a little annoyed you lied to me, but I am not angry. If I'd known you were pregnant, I'd have tried to ensure I gave you the best prenatal potions and care. I'd have ensured I was there for you whenever you needed a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. We might not be in a relationship Hermione, but we can co-parent peacefully between us. I'm happy if I see him once a week. Of course, I would like a lot more than that, but I'm not greedy and I am not out to ruin your life or your relationship with your husband. I don't want to cause any trouble between the two of you. I understand you did what you thought deep down was the right thing to keep the only person you had in your life, but now we have a son together. Just know I am part of your life too."
The sentiment touched her heart, and she was seeing an entirely new side to the man that was once her surly potions master with a poor attitude. She supposed that brushing with death was enough to make you re-evaluate your life and put your priorities in check.
"T-Thank you, I think," she stammered, slightly taken aback by what he had just said.
"I don't have anyone in my life, Hermione, much like you. No family and very few friends, if you could even call them that. You've given me a reason to want to keep on keeping on and not just checking out of this world because there is nothing to look forward to." his voice quivered as it got caught in his throat. "If there is ever a time you need anything, and I mean anything, just ask me."
"Thank you," she nodded curtly, watching as her son stirred in his father's arms.
"It must be feeding time." She began rummaging around in the bag and pulled out a bottle full of milk and handed it to Severus.
"You want me to do it?" He asked, alarmed, reaching for the bottle, his fingers closed against the warm plastic.
"Of course. It's easy. Just rub it on his bottom lip and he will latch on. Feeding time is his favourite time."
He did as was advised and watched as his son latched onto the plastic nipple, sucking down the milk hungrily.
"Your husband won't be upset you didn't go to his quidditch game?" he asked vaguely, too enthralled in watching his son drink to pay much attention.
"He probably will be, but I loathe quidditch with a passion and I would do anything to get out of going to a match."
He chuckled, exhaling sharply from his nose as he did so. "We aren't really all the different, you and I, I can't stand the game either."
Holding the bottle at an angle, he watched as his son happily drank, making little slurping noises as he did so, and it brought an even bigger smile to his face.
"Can we do this every week?" He asked curiously, looking over to Hermione. "Even if it's just an hour a week, it's better than never seeing him."
Hermione looked slightly taken aback. She never really gave much thought to the situation beyond today. She sighed and spoke hesitantly, "I honestly never planned for anything beyond you meeting him today."
She was worried if she didn't let him have at least one hour a week that he would go to the papers and reveal the truth and her life would crumble around her. "I am sure we could work something out…" she trailed off.
"Next Saturday again then?" He asked, hopefully.
Sighing, she closed her eyes for a few fleeting moments, trying to gain composure. How was she going to get the baby here weekly when Ron expected her to be at his Quidditch matches? She'd have to make it work.
"Yes," she agreed. "Next Saturday."
o-o-o-o-o
"Where were you today?" Ron asked his wife darkly as he walked into the nursery, still clad in his quidditch gear.
"Did you win?" she asked airily, trying to steer the conversation in another direction and diffuse the tension before it went off like a pressure cooker.
"Where were you today?" He asked again.
"Here. Why?" She cradled the baby in her arms and carried him to his crib.
"I was expecting you to bring him to his first quidditch match."
"He's not even a week old, Ronald!" Hermione whispered in harsh tones as she laid the child down in his crib. "I wasn't taking him to a quidditch match with a bunch of intoxicated yahoos with little self-control."
"He's my son Hermione. It isn't much to ask to have him at my matches!" He bellowed, causing the baby to stir.
"Get out here," Hermione whispered angrily through gritted teeth, tiptoeing across the floor she just about dragged Ron with her before closing the door gently.
"What is your problem lately?" She asked him.
"My problem? I don't have a problem," he replied.
"All you want to do is fight with me lately. It's like you don't even love me anymore."
"Maybe I don't. I thought having a baby come along would fix everything and we would be all happy families, but now I just don't know. It's like you don't even want to try with our marriage anymore. A man just wants his son at a quidditch match, and you can't even accommodate that. It's like you aren't even the same person anymore."
"Me? I'm not the same person anymore? That's rich coming from you! Ever since made vice-captain of the team you've been carrying on like you are god's gift to this world." Anger laced in her whispered tone, throwing hands high in the air.
"I worked hard to get where I am now, and you've hardly given me a kind or encouraging word. No congratulations. No thank you," he matched her own tone now.
"Thank you for what? Why am I thanking you!"
"Because without me, you wouldn't have half of what you have now. There would be no fancy house or furniture or the clothes on your back." He gestured broadly to the room they were standing in.
"Life isn't about possessions Ronald and you of all people should know that. I work just as hard as you and contribute to this household, so don't walk around here thinking you are God tier level. You play Quidditch, not heal the sick." She twisted her heel and stomped away, not wanting him to see the tears welling in her ears. "At least I do actual work. I don't sit around on a stupid broom and play with balls," her voice cracked with anger and sadness. "And don't bother coming to bed tonight," she turned back for but a fleeting moment to scream at him, not caring if she woke the baby. Right now, she really hated Ronald Weasley.