Snape was bad with kids. Very bad.

He should not have fed the toddler two bags of Eggy-Eggselent Sugared Cocoa-Eggs. Those who act in haste, repent at leisure, and his leisure was like the pit of hell.

The only witch who could help him was taking her precious time replying to his magical emergency message. Snape and the infant let out a collective wail. If this child cried any more, he was certain it would scream its guts out of its little body. Where the bloody fuck was Margaret Weasley?

If it all went to shit, he debated faking his death, leaving a bloody puddle on the aged shag carpet and fleeing the country. He kissed both corners of the large living room, the crying boy extended before him like a ticking time bomb. No, perhaps the fake blood would be excessive and Potter's wife would send him the bill for the carpet. He had enough expenses as it was.

The doorbell rang. Could it be that the Weasley godmother herself decided to pay him a visit?

With the grace of a broken legged swimmer, Snape stumbled towards the door. Not the mother. The daughter, namely her wand, and behind it, the red-haired witch herself.

"Who's dying…oh, baby!"

She stuck the weapon back into her pocket and took the crying infant into her arms. "I thought you said this was an emergency?"

"This is an emergency. Look at it…smell it…."

Ginevra lifted ickle James to her nose and instantly wrinkled it. "Smells like a doo. Have you tried changing him?"

Snape paled at the mention. "For… another…infant?"

"His nappy ."

Oh, thank Lucifer. Was the solution that simple? "Obviously not."

"Then, change it," she said, passing James back to him. She turned on her heel and leapt down the steps. "Ciao!"

"Wait, is your mother coming?"

"Mum and dad are on holiday. I'm house-sitting for them. So, you're on your own. Good luck!"

Like birdling hopping about in its safe nest and suddenly tossed out, Snape cried out, "You cannot leave me like this. I will not allow it."

"Actually, I can. I have a date tonight," she replied in a sing-song voice.

"With whom?"

"McLaggen."

Which McLaggen? "Richard?"

"Cormac. His younger brother. Two years older than me."

Ah! "That dunder-lad with a lack of self-preservation?"

"He doesn't lack self-preservation."

"He does. Gave up my last bezoar when he ingested an entire set of doxy eggs on a dare."

Ginevra furrowed her brows. "Sounds like him actually. Doesn't matter. He's not eating 'em tonight. We're getting sushi."

"Sushi with McLaggen who had broken both arms during two consecutive Quidditch matches?"

"Wasn't that Andrew? No-"

"With the nasty streak for pulling revenge jokes on his unsuspecting classmates?"

"Fine. Give me James," said Ginevra with a huff. Here, Snape exhaled and followed the girl in. No, not girl, young woman.

He hardly noticed until now, but she was dressed quite nicely. Leather trousers clung to a well-shaped pair of legs and ended in equally black heels. On the top, was an oversized sort of hooded jumper. Her hair, red and tamed into a sort of tied up tail, now disappeared into the lavatory. He would have felt bad for ruining her coitus appointment if he wasn't in dire need of her assistance.

Ginevra had six siblings and a plethora of experience taking care of children. All he had was a spare weekend and the misfortune of being the last of Potter's contacts available to babysit on Easter.

Snape's help was not needed here. He could rest on the sofa for now and perhaps take a short nap. Before his arse cheeks flattened into the cushions, a shrill voice called out, "Well, you coming?"

Did she expect him to assist in this clearly feminine operation? Yes, she did. All the worse for her.

When he joined her, he was instantly met with a faeces-covered pair of buttocks. Ginevra tilted James' nappy and took a closer look inside, and to Snape's disgust picked out a speck.

"Huh. What do you know? Multicoloured eggshells in the mix. Reminds me of the time dad brought home some of those Eggy-Eggselent Sugared Cocoa-Eggs and Ron and I finished the entire three bags in a sitting. Mum can't remember it without laughing and crying. Cleaned the loo for days."

Apparently, overindulging in candy was something common to many infants with doting parents. To all infants, but him, he thought sorrowfully. "It appears history has repeated itself."

"You mean…oh, oh Sev, you should have known better," she said, sending his face into an even deeper scowl. "Here open the washer."

He was not sure what had got to him: being bossed around or being called Sev. Like they were friends.

Snape flipped around, opened the door of the tiny washer underneath the sink and watched as the floating nappy and a small cup of detergent floated inside the drum. Instantly, the soft whirl of the machine began to clean up the mess.

With the expertise of a mother and the voice of a battle commander, Ginevra ordered for the baby bath to be taken down from the cabinet. She added a bubbly substance out of a lilac coloured bottle, tested the water with her elbow and lowered the shitty child inside. James gurgled with pleasure as the witch rolled up her sleeves and began to wash between his bum cheeks and under his stubby little arms.

"Pwoffesor Snape doesn't whow how to change a nappy-wappy. Isn't that wight my wittle booby-boo?" she said, kissing the toddler's cheeks.

Normally, his hair would be standing on the nape of his neck at that coddling baby voice. Not today. Snape admitted, that there was something sweet about seeing the two of them together. He wondered if his own mother had talked to him in that voice when bathing him. Although, who was he kidding? His mother probably didn't even bathe him.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. I was…reminiscing."

"You've gone all mushy-faced and red," she said with a laugh. "Go fetch me a towel."

"Bossy witch," Snape said under his breath as he handed her a soft square towel with cartoon pygmy puffs on the front.


James was wrapped up and taken to his room. Ginevra asked for a clean nappy and a one-piece pyjama and some talcum powder. Ickle James was swaddled and ready for his rest time (as was Snape).

"Ah, ah, ah! Not so fast! There should be some Tummy Ache Syrup in the pharmacy," she said.

"He will not eat that putrid substance-"

"Not if you mix it with warm milk and a spoon of honey."

Well, Ginevra was the expert. He could brew a warm bottle for the boy, it was the least the potions master could do.

Instantly, James stuck the rubber teet into his two-toothed mouth and Snape watched the horizon line of milk and syrup disappear with quiet swallows.

"Can you hold him? I'm getting a message," Ginevra said, thrusting the boy into Snape's arms. She took a small leather notebook out of her pocket and read the incoming inked magic messages.

Snape rocked the baby. In this state, James was not so bad after all. He was quite lovely and smelled like a hot-cross bun warm from the oven. He had red cheeks, light wispy hair and big green eyes.

When he was sure Ginevra wasn't looking, he leaned real close and whispered, "You'll stay this quiet until your daddy comes won't you?"

To his surprise, James smacked his lips, then grabbed a giant fistful of Snape's hair and stuck it into his mouth. Not tonight, Snape said, tugging the black locks out of his tight fists.

Ginevra did not look pleased.

"Everything alright?"

"That arsehole cancelled. Again," she grumbled, taking James back. "I'll rock him to sleep if you like."

"Thank you."

He watched as she sat with the baby in the rocking chair and held him to her chest. Then, feeling the third wheel in this intimate scene, backed out and closed the door behind him.

Good thing Ginevra had come to help him. She was much quieter than her mother, and much more pleasing to the eye to look at.

Wait, Snape shook his head. This was a novel thought. He couldn't fancy Ginevra? That troublesome girl who had been possessed by the Dark Lord in her second year at the magical school? The chit who passed notes under the desk in every one of his potions classes? Who never seemed to leave the hospital wing?

No. He was just admiring her…quick thinking and ability to calm children.

He sank into the sofa at least, suddenly aware of a hard bulge in his trousers. Who was he kidding; she was pleasing to look at, dressed in those lovely trousers and those heels. He had a certain weakness for redheads. McLaggen could have been a lucky wizard tonight if he hadn't acted like a young fool.

When she held ickle James and caressed him, he became painfully aware of how long it had been since he'd seen such natural affection. Ginevra had a big heart. No wonder the Dark Lord possessed her so easily. Life was difficult for those who are so open. Then again, they also reaped greater rewards. She would find someone soon enough. Not that he cared. It was only then that his heart yanked at the fibres of his chest. But you do care, don't you?

Nevermind that. He should do something to thank her for her help. Harry and Luna said he could help himself to whatever was in the fridge while they were gone for the weekend.

He rolled up his sleeves, went into the kitchen and examined the seemingly millions of labelled jars of kombucha and yoghurt, sauerkraut and pickled beets. Finally, he settled on his 'plat du chef': scrambled eggs and crisp bacon. It was not sushi, but it had to do.

He tossed some butter on the pan and cracked in six eggs. A couple of strips of bacon at a time sizzled nearby. Snape was tempted to pop them into his mouth right then and there, but he had to exert patience.

Much like with Ginevra, said a naughty voice inside his head.

Next, he cut up some toms and cukes and put together a light salad. He heated a few slices of bread too. He missed cooking. Why didn't he do it more often? Perhaps because it was more rewarding to cook for someone else than for himself.

Thank the Gods Luna shared his love for the culinary arts. This witch had everything needed to set a feast. Snape laid out some placemats on the wooden table and set up some plates and forks. His eye caught a bottle of wine.

Would she like a glass? Snape thought to himself. Would it be impolite to help himself to Potter's booze? He remembered how many galleons he spent in the liquor shop when he was Potter's teacher and decided it would only be fair for him to return the favour. Red wine it was.

"What's this?" Ginevra said, nearly sending the wine glasses out of his hands and on the floor. "That's-"

Oh no. Had he miscalculated? "I assumed it would only be right to thank you for all your help tonight. Especially since you missed your dinner on my account."

"It's just that," she began to say and then her lips curved into a smile. "As pathetic as it sounds, this is the kindest thing a man had ever done for me."

She took the glasses and set them down. Then, she picked at her jumper. "Oh, gross. Looks like James drooled over me. You don't mind?"

No, Snape did not mind that the jumper was tossed aside to reveal a fine set of breasts in a tight little top. Being somewhat of a gentleman, he kept his eyes at her face level as he joined her for dinner. She could have easily charmed her jumper clean, but she decided to do away with it, said the naughty voice again.

"And wine? Gosh, you really pulled out all the stops. Perhaps we should babysit together more often."

They clinked their glasses. Snape watched that red liquid disappears between her swollen lips.

"Yes, yes we should Ginevra."

"Call me Gin or Ginny."

Snape's fingers felt numb around the stem of his wine glass. "I'd prefer not to. I'd prefer you didn't call me Sev either."

Usually, this was the part when his acquaintances connected the dots inside their minds and the conversation went drier than the desert. Not with the red-head. "Oh? Sorry! Professor Snape it is."

"Severus is also acceptable," he said quickly.

"Severus. Alright then." That was that.


The agreement on using the proper names disappeared as quickly as the first bottle of wine. He found it much easier to call her Ginny as she uncorked the second bottle of Malbec with her teeth and helped herself to a full glass.

"You know, haven't been here since the baby shower," Ginny said. "Pretty pathetic, in't it?"

"'ow so?" said Snape with a grunt as she hovered the bottle over his glass. He tipped it into place with his fingers and gave her a wink.

"Mum 'ways thought Harry and I'd be married. Have the dreamhouse an' the babies. Don't get me wrong. I like Luna an' all, but that cow stole my man! I mean…she stole him. Right? Am I petty? Tell me I am."

Snape leaned over the table and poked his finger into the dip between her collarbone. "You. Are. Petty. Ginny Weasl'y."

She tossed her head into her hand and laughed. "Oh m' gods, am I ever. I mean, have y' ever been pissed at s'mone…not because you really wanted 'em, but cause they had the audacity to leave you?"

"Yes." The words came out of Snape's mouth with wine-like ease. "As matter of fact, the exact same happen to me and Lily Potter."

Ginny stopped. "Wait. Y' dated Harry's mam?"

"Wanted t'."

Ginny laughed even harder, her cheeks pinched with giggles. Snape was not proof to that hearty chuckle and found himself joining in. "Shouldn't have shared that. S'cuse my…unprofessionalism."

"Potters are the worst. The worst!" She raised her glass to clink it with his, but ended up spilling half of it on the tablecloth. "Here's t' being smitted by Potters."

"Smote."

"Ah fuck it. They don't deserve us, do they?" Ginny's face took on a more serious look as she swiped some black streaks out from under her eyes. "Be right back."

Snape watched as her cheeky bottom stole away to the loo. He gathered the plates, cast them to the sink and willed them to wash themselves with a simple spell. Who would have thought he and Ginny had something to talk about? It felt good to have a friend in misfortune to laugh about the Potters. A cathartic release. It helped that she was so easy-going and a pleasant conversation partner.

He looked at the clock. Half-past eleven already? Bollocks. He shouldn't have let Ginny become so intoxicated so late at night. Perhaps he could let her sleep in the guest room while he took the sofa? It would be the proper thing to do.

He started down the hall, finding himself with a faceful of Ginny's hair.

"S'cuse me," she said, steadying herself against his shoulders. He leaned on the wall to keep them from falling. She smelled good.

"You should spend the night." He cleared his throat, as her eyes stared into his. "In th' guest bedroom, that is."

"Think so?"

"Potter's not back until tomorrow evening. You are welcome t' stay. Wouldn't want you Apparating back in this state."

"No, I shouldn't be," she said.

Her fingers ran along the seams of his shirts and snaked under his collar. She had luscious, warm brown eyes. "You know, this was a good night. 'll of it."

"Even the nappy?"

"Well, everything after that," Ginny said, smirking.

"I thought so too."

He took his last breath of air and fell into her deep, red lips.

She knotted her hands into his hair and pulled him in for a kiss. She had clearly done this before. Snape should have been jealous, he did not like when witches had more experience than him, but jealousy did not come when Ginny Weasley was moaning into his hungry mouth. Fuck, he could get used to this.

He pressed her into the wall, letting himself nip her neck as she ran her fingers down every button on the front of his shirt. She was so thankful, so malleable.

"Fuck," he groaned suddenly aware of how close her hands were to his throbbing cock, "You're certain of this? I mean, I'm…old."

"Think I might be n'to that," she said, and tightened her fingers around his balls and squeezed. Hard.

Snape had to think fast, or else he'd be dealing with anouther bout of regret come morning. Gods, his balls felt so good. With every bit of his rational mind, he pulled himself away from her tempting touch and lowered his voice. "M'ss Weasley, I am very serious. I do not want to trouble you with my 'dvances."

"You are so stern," she said giggling. It did nothing to calm his drumming heart.

"Be serious." He snapped his fingers. The wine drained from their bodies and filled the bottles under the table back up again. He coughed as his vision swirled into sobriety.

"I seriously want you." She bit her lip and began to play with the top button of his trousers. Then her gaze became wicked. "Let's fuck on Harry's bed."

Snape's heart nearly dropped out of his body. "You're shitting me?"

"It would be like…like payback 'n a way. Like he fucked us over so we're going to do it in his bed," she said.

"Well…"

"Come on Sev," she said with a pout. "I thought you wanted to play the bad guy sometimes?"

Actually, that was a very good idea. It was a very wrong idea, especially after the many years it took to make up with Harry and Luna and to finally get into their good graces. However, Snape was a vengeful man and he did not forgive as easily. What was forgiveness without action? They talked the talk, but did they walk the walk? Harry and Luna were good at talking.

Above all, this was a very kinky idea.

"Alright."

He dipped under Ginny and let her hook her legs around his hips and wrap her arms around his neck. He clearly underestimated how much she weighed, but made effort not to grunt as he carried her into Potter's room and tossed her back first on the bed.

Payback time.

He let her guide his hands over her top, unhooking the corset and tossing the fabric onto a nearby poof. Her breasts were gorgeous, round and plump. Perfect for sucking. He circled his tongue around the nipple, biting it gently like a well-made piece of chocolate, and savouring every bite.

This was only the beginning. Their clothes came off, piece by piece and fell into a mad heap on the floor. In an electric tangle of arms and feet, they rolled over the covers, tossing away decorative pillows and throw blankets. All gone until there was nothing left on the bed but their naked bodies in a forest of silken sheets. Potter obviously chose the very best for his Chosen Tush.

"You know, this is probably where they made James," Ginny said with a giggle, tapping the mattress.

"What do you think of that?" he asked, trailing his finger over her lips, wet with his kisses.

"It's kind of hot, kind of inappropriate. Like do y' imagine them saying: who's your daddy? Then fucking each other hard?" She made her lips into an 'o' shape and did her best impression of Harry.

"Miss Weasley, do you want to play that game?" Snape cocked his brow.

"Yes. Do you?" She sat up and cupped her hands around his face. "'m I embarrassing you?"

"Not at all." He was told his voice was very seductive when lowered. "I can be your daddy."

In her eyes, he saw that she was not opposed at all to the idea. She moaned softly, then gifted gentle kisses to his lips.

"Say it."

"Yes, daddy."

It was an odd game to play while babysitting, but it worked his cock like a charm.

He would take care of her. He was not good with kids, but for her, he could learn. He could be her daddy here and now. Propping her head up with a pillow, he spread her legs and savoured the taste of his two fingers beneath his tongue, thankful he trimmed his cuticles some nights before. She figured he was going to have her that way, and blissfully moaned, letting her red hair spill over the white satin fabric beneath her head.

She reached down and pleasured herself, showing him where she wanted him to touch. Then, taking his fingers, led them inside her.

Her cunt was wet and hot as he moulded her into a state of purring, like a kitten. He let his fingers kneed her folds, and then tasted them before letting them play inside her again. He pressed gently, not enough to hurt her, but enough to make her squirm beneath his touch. If he had known that this woman could be so receptive, so good for him, he would have had her sooner. He could only whisper a silent prayer to the gods, thanking them for this fateful night.

"Taste me, daddy," she whispered her hand on his neck.

Was she choking him? He was not into that and jerked himself away from the grip. "Stop-"

"No, I meant, go down on me."

"Oh."

Very well. He kissed his way down her belly and nuzzled the hairs of her sex, wet with her scent. This was his dessert, he mused and licked her sweet pussy from the bottom up. She sighed and scratched his head with her long nails. When her thighs gripped his ears, he lifted himself up and let her catch her breath.

No greater invitation was needed than her fingers around his cock, summoning every hidden moan out of him.

"Baby," he managed when she teased his head against her opening. Gods he wanted this.

Surely, they avenged their bruised egos into the springs of his mattress. Damn Harry Potter and damn James Potter too. Breaking into the surface of her floating body, he rode her in rolling waves. Then, he pounded himself into her, her strong arms holding him back from destroying the frame of the wobbly bed. With each creak, with each passionate cry, justice was done.

She cried out his name, with each moment her voice becoming more hoarse. He was certain she'd wake the baby and silenced her with his kiss.

His tongue caressed hers and he ate her desire from her needy mouth. He'd pull back, watch her breasts bounce in rhythm.

His cock pulsed. He wanted to fill her up with his cum every time he watched her flesh collide with his. A part of him inside her, spilling out of the seams of her perfectly knitted cunt.

He'd cup her arse with his veined hands, drawing her deeper into him, possessing every inch of her. Unable to hold back, would dive into her ocean and let himself be swallowed whole again and again.

She smelled of cream, the kind women would rub onto themselves after a long bath. He imagined her fingers dipping into the small jar of white liquid, the smell of vanilla and cotton sheets and lilies in the cracks of her hands. Those fingers, squeezing her breasts, her arms, her thighs. Her nails left small marks along her arse as she bent over the bathroom sink.

If he was there, he would plunge his cock into her, his balls against her slippery back. He'd smell like her after it. Then would bite into her neck and lick that cream off her pink skin and swallow it all.

Her moans became more shallow, more high. His thrusts- more rough and quick. He edged her on until she clenched her thighs around his and sobbed. Then, his cock became hers as she took it in low, pulling bursts.

When the storm of their lovemaking subsided, he tossed his body back and watched the stars on the ceiling sparkle before him. Wow, he whispered to himself. No poet could describe this feeling. They'd have to be there to feel it.

"Wow," repeated Ginny, resting her head in the crook of his arm. "That was-"

"Yes." He smiled and gave her forehead a gentle kiss. Thankfully, she said nothing more. When he looked at her again, she was asleep with a blissful smile on her face.

He rose from the bed slowly and walked into James' room. The boy was fast asleep and likely did not care for Snape's naked front before him. He watched the toddler from the doorway, then being certain he heard his snores nodded.

He could get used to this. Maybe, he could be someone's daddy, a real daddy. He could put his son to sleep, make dinner for his wife and fall asleep with her nestled in his arms. Only he would do it better than his daddy. This was what life was about.

"Uh, professor? Can you explain?"

Snape turned his head slowly to see the front door open and a very bewildered Luna and Harry looking back at his nude arse. They had come home early.

He sighed. This would be a long explanation.

-x-

If you've read any of my works, you will see that I do not write sex / smut. Err, I suppose I try, but it's not very good. I keep challenging myself to write it, but the story ends up drifting into every other imaginable genre. So I sat myself down and said, "Mumka, you're gonna write some smut. And you're not going to stop until it's written." And that's that. I admit I'm pretty rubbish at it and I deeply admire people who can write good sex. Unfortunately, this is not me. I'd like it to be me, but it's not me (yet). Hopefully, with more practice, I can nail it!

I actually hated Ginny in the movies and I hated her with Harry. I just don't think they have good chemistry. They're much better in the books. However, I recently began to like her character again. I think she's feisty and fun and a lot less stuck up than Hermione. She's a bit more of a risk-taker. I think she and Severus have a few things in common, mainly being left out of things, being mistreated by Potters, being underestimated, and falling into the clutches of Old Voldie. It was a fun little experiment. Happy reading and Happy Easter! Comments and reviews are appreciated.