Last chapter...
We enjoyed some epic comma splicing as we observed Severus navigating his first forays into parenting; it went...ok?
Also, we found out that Rosalind 'demon-spawn' Granger-Snape enjoys chocolate biscuits and the taste of stinky werewolf.
But, more importantly, our hero has a plan. Well, okay, he doesn't really, but he's headed in that direction, so...
Five - Slytherin Dramatics
Severus crossed his arms and glared at the insolent woman. "Penchant for Gryffindor dramatics aside, I don't know why you're making such a fuss," he hissed. "The cretin is neither maimed, nor did it burn down the house -"
"Oh, I'm the dramatic one, am I?" She rolled her eyes.
Snape intensified his glare. It did not appear to have any appreciable effect.
"Severus, you know you need to keep an eye on her! She isn't Margaret, you cannot simply leave her to her own devices for several hours and expect to return to a spotless house and a pile of warm baked goods!"
Well, no one bloody told him that, did they? He huffed at her.
Hermione sighed. "Every child is different and has a unique set of advantages and challenges -"
"Obviously," he interrupted. Did the nattering bint think he was unaware of the idiosyncrasies of -
"Oh for heaven's sake!" The woman threw her hands up in the air. "She poured the chia seeds down the garbage disposal unit!"
"And what, pray tell, is a garbage disposal unit?" Sounded like more unnecessary muggle mischief to him.
"It's, er - well, something Arthur brought back with him from America, actually - haven't you noticed it?" She frowned. "I'm not entirely certain what it's supposed to do, other than make excessive noise and create pulp from food waste that absolutely should not go into our sewer pipes -"
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose.
"- But he got one for Harry and Ginny also, and he seemed quite delighted with himself, how could I say no?" She implored him.
"Granger -"
"And, well, you know how chia seeds turn to jelly when they're exposed to any sort of moisture - the entire contraption is completely fouled up and the basin won't drain at all." Her hands flew into the air once more.
"Granger."
"Honestly, I didn't even realise that Rosie knew how to turn the wretched thing on -"
"Hermione!" He snapped, desperate to stem the tide of verbal diarrhoea.
"What?" She snapped back, hands on hips.
"Cease your prattling," he growled, "I'll clean the blasted thing up -"
"You most certainly will not, Severus Snape!" She scoffed. "Those things are dangerous, you could lose your fingers, and then where would I be?" Her little smirk was suddenly more lecherous than irate.
Severus took a step back, wary of the rapid shift in mood - had Miss Granger always been this mercurial?
"Well," she continued, slipping back to huffy on her next breath, "I'll ring Harry and get the name of the fellow who sorted theirs out when James tried to grind up Lily's crayons-"
"Excellent." He barked, unwilling to stand there and listen to her work through her recollection of the events of Harry Potter's children misbehaving. "Will that be all? Unlike yourself, I was interrupted during my work day to go and fetch a miscreant, and I have a great deal to get caught up on." It was utter tripe, of course, he'd already taken the ten minutes to sort his notes back into order while the sadistic little beast was defiling their plumbing.
"Yes, well, I apologise for that," she sighed, ghosting her fingers down the line of his buttons. "Dad had an appointment with his physician, and you know I don't take calls when I'm with a client -"
"How convenient for you," he replied. Because, really, those were perfectly logical reasons for him to receive the call, but he wasn't about to capitulate; that would set a terrible precedent for the rest of their acquaintance.
The woman made a tsking sort of noise and attempted to grasp his waist with her grabby little fingers. "Don't start, Severus, we both know you only had two lectures today - either of which Slughorn could interrupt his napping schedule to cover for you - and don't think for one moment that I've forgotten you let our daughter watch that horrid serial killer programme!"
"I don't follow," he grumbled, trying to wrangle himself out of her reach. What did serial killers have to do with breaking muggle appliances via gelatinous breakfast toppings? "Are you saying she attempted to murder the garbage disposal unit, and I should fear for the safety of the gadget that brews my sub-standard coffee?"
"My God, you didn't even notice, did you?" There went the hands right back onto the hips. "Rosalind got into your Dexter discs - those are not appropriate viewing for a child her age, especially someone as bright and creative as she is -"
"Given her paltry age-appropriate vocabulary, I am somewhat skeptical of where she lands on the 'brightness' spectrum," he interrupted, attempting to divert the woman's attention by vaguely insulting her crotch goblin. He had no damn clue who this Dexter fellow was, but given the earlier mention of serial killers he could venture a guess. He could also appreciate why such a thing might not be optimal viewing for the werewolf-assaulting demon-spawn.
Predictably, Miss Granger sputtered. Severus decided to head off the incoming tangent. "Yes, I can see how violent programming could be inadvisable for the little deviant - did you know she assaulted her teacher this morning? Apparently the resulting injury required stitches and a tetanus shot, and I was required to sign a notice of out-of-school suspension."
The woman closed her eyes and sighed, shoulders drooping. "Again? Oh for goodness sake - that's it, I'm scheduling her an appointment with the paediatrician." Granger scowled. "A toddler with a biting phase is one thing, but a five year old -"
"Yes, yes," he nodded, "I completely agree; have the future felon evaluated - off you go then." Severus made a shooing motion and spun on his heel to return to the study, then paused. "Send me the eldest one - er, Margaret - if you come across it - her - somewhere in your travels." He beat a hasty retreat before the shrew could argue.
The geezer-chic décor of his study was a balm to Snape's tattered edges as he poured himself a couple fingers of scotch from the sideboard. "I'll bet you needed this every day, you poor bastard," he muttered to himself, thinking of the bloke whose life he'd potentially taken over. She might do herself proud in a pair of tiny shorts, but Madam Snape was the worst sort of harpy. Was it his fault they had a rare and dangerous muggle artifact hidden in the kitchen basin? No. It was not. How was he supposed to anticipate such a thing? And never mind those discs of a programme he'd never heard of! Perhaps she ought to have put them away someplace secure if she didn't want her convict-in-training getting ideas!
Someone knocked on the door. Severus threw back the rest of his drink and grimaced. "Enter." He barked.
The harridan let herself in, smiling at him. "Hello, daddy, how was your day?" She looked sensible and neat as a pin. It boded well for her suitability.
"Fine. Sit." He gestured to the chair in front of his boat-sized desk. She didn't appear phased by his clipped reply, but he remembered that he was meant to be luring her in as an ally and tacked on a perfunctory: "Thank you."
The harridan sat obediently in the designated spot and folded her hands in her lap, looking up at him curiously as he lowered himself onto his leather throne. Her obvious lack of trepidation was rather disconcerting after years of students trembling in their knee socks under his scrutiny. He frowned and flicked open the folder he'd set out earlier and cleared his throat.
"I can see from these records that you were born in October of 2006." He glanced at the miniature calendar on his desk. "And as it is now September of 2014, that would make you nearly eight years of age - correct?"
The girl's eyes became impossibly round. "Did you forget my birthday?"
"No, no, of course not," he grumbled, "I'm simply - ah - verifying that you can do simple maths." Severus allowed himself a moment to savour the novelty of a child being more upset that he might have forgotten its birthday, than distressed over his sneering.
"When is it, then?" She demanded, frowning.
"As I said previously, October," he snarled.
The harridan folded her arms and lifted her chin. "What day?"
Severus swallowed. "My least favourite day."
The starch went right out of her, and that little pointed chin dipped down to her chest. "My birthday is your least favourite day?" She asked in a small voice.
"Oh for Merlin's - that's not what I meant!" He huffed. "Don't you dare cry you silly little - Hallowe'en. I meant Hallowe'en is my least favourite day - your birthday has no bearing on the matter whatsoever."
The girl sniffled delicately, looking morose. "Yes, I heard Uncle Harry say that before, that you didn't like Halloween."
Oh, I bet he did, the loud-mouth little shit.
"Well, Uncle Harry ought to keep himself from commenting on other people's affairs."
The girl nodded, still looking as though her tiny dam was about to break and flood the river below. Gods be damned. "Come here you dunderhead," he sighed, plucking a tissue from the box on the far end of his desk. The girl slid off her chair and scurried around to his side.
Severus watched her dab at her eyes and decided to make an attempt to salvage the situation. "The date of your birth is not your fault." There, perfectly reassuring.
"May I have a hug?" She sniffled again, but looked marginally less likely to implode.
Snape's arms twitched. "Ah -" Steady on, man, the chit thinks she's your daughter, remember? "Very well -"
The weepy harridan clambered up into his lap. Severus froze. "Oh." His lungs attempted to seize. "That's not what I -" His hands clutched at her awkwardly as she laid her head against his chest and patted him with fondness.
"It's okay, daddy, I forgive you," she sighed, "let's have a cuddle."
Something completely foreign twisted in his gut.
Likely a bowel haemorrhage. He tried not to fidget.
A few heartbeats later, his subconscious gave him a little prodding. Do it now, idiot. "Would you be interested in becoming my - ah, apprentice?" He asked, wincing at how snappish it sounded.
"Sure, daddy," she patted him some more, apparently immune to his snappishness. "What does an apprentice do?"
"Well," he cleared the frogs from his throat, "it's like being both my pupil and my assistant -"
The girl gasped and looked up at him. "Do I get to attend uni and take your chemistry classes?"
"Er. No." She had the nerve to look a little bit crestfallen. Severus tried not to sound exasperated. "You must finish primary school before you attend university, Margaret."
The harridan shot him a pout, but nodded. "I suppose that makes sense." She fiddled with one of his buttons, brows knit together in thought. "I doubt I'd be allowed to take the A-levels yet in any case -"
Severus floundered for something to tempt her. "Perhaps I can find some age-appropriate chemistry experiments for you to perform under my supervision?"
"Oh! Yes please!" In dramatic fashion, she clasped her hands over her heart. "Won't Albus be green with envy!"
Snape frowned, suppressing a shudder. "Albus? Albus Dumbledore?"
"No, daddy," she blinked, "Albus Potter, of course." Severus was unable to suppress the shudder a second time. "He's always going on about how his father is such a hero, etcetera, etcetera, and how he solves crimes, and is so very brilliant." The harridan rolled her eyes. "It's quite tiresome, even if I do like Uncle Harry."
"Ah. One of Potter's brats, then." Severus felt his lip curl in disdain.
"Yes, and he thinks he's so much smarter than I am because he's two months older," the girl scoffed.
Severus bristled. "You are vastly superior to Albus Potter.".
"You're just saying that because you're my father!" She giggled.
"Naturally," he smirked at her, "how do you think one child becomes vastly superior to another? It's all about the genetic influences and parental guidance."
"Well exactly," she nodded with confidence. "And so what if you don't chase baddies and mummy doesn't chase footballs? You're both geniuses and top of your respective academic fields!"
I've changed my mind. This one is my favourite hallucinated offspring. He thought, but frowned at her nonetheless. "Albus Potter's mother chases footballs?"
"Of course she does, she plays for the national women's team after all." Her dark eyes scrutinised him carefully. "Don't you remember watching Aunt Ginny play?"
"Yes of course, Margaret," he narrowed his eyes at her, daring her to contradict him, "once again, I was testing you - as one does with an apprentice."
"Oh." The girl frowned, clearly perplexed.
Severus patted her energetically, attempting to be soothing. Mostly she appeared startled. "You should expect frequent testing in the days to come." Pat, pat, pat. "Many of the questions will seem peculiar and redundant." Pat, pat, pat. "But you will answer them, regardless - yes?"
"Er - yes of course," the jostled creature replied, blinking profusely.
"Good girl." He forced his hand to cease its nervous assault on the child's poor arm, and allowed her a small lifting of the corners of his mouth that was meant to pass for a smile. "Sensible and useful." He congratulated himself at being quite good at this whole fathering business, after all.