AN: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, or favourited, or story alerted. Thank you also to everyone who's reading this for waiting patiently... sorry it's only a short one, but I had to cut chapter 11 in half and this was the easiest place to chop... ladies and gentlemen please fasten your seatbelts, it could be a bumpy ride...
WARNINGS: this chapter contains all manner of things not suitable to younger readers, immature readers, readers of a sensitive disposition, and probably a whole host of other types of reader. The rule is if you shouldn't be reading this because of age related issues, please respect the ratings system. If you fall into one of the other groups you might want to read this with your eyes half closed so you can squeeze 'em shut at a words notice...
Disclaimer: it's just a bit of fun, I can only hope JKR doesn't object to what I make her fantastic characters do...
Chapter Eleven
Hermione was trying very hard not to stare at the sharp contrast between Severus' black coffee mug and the tense, bloodless white of his knuckles as he gripped it so hard she certain it would shatter at any moment. She sipped the ginger tea he had prepared for her and tried to think of something, anything to say to break the apprehensive silence that Severus, his hair still wet from the shower, had started with the words, "okay, let's talk."
"I..." she faltered, suddenly lacking in her Gryffindor courage. "I'm... glad you came back." She finished lamely, addressing the table just to the left of his hand in a voice so small it was only just above a whisper. He lifted his head and for a second his dark gaze penetrated her own amber eyes. Those dark depths glimmered with a thousand things it seemed he wanted to say, if only he could find the right words. It was only a second before his head dropped once more, curtains of dark, damp hair hiding those eyes. He nodded to acknowledge her words.
They sat in silence for a few moments more before Severus slowly raised his head once more. "I did not ever imagine that I would be a father." Hermione tilted her head, his voice sounded almost awestruck. "Even now, it does not seem entirely real to me." She remained silent, waiting patiently for him to continue. He simply sipped his coffee, not meeting her eyes. He seemed to be stealing himself to do something difficult; she wondered for a fearful moment whether he was going to leave her after all. "I cannot promise to be a good father." His voice broke through her thoughts like knife. "I can, however, promise that I will do my utmost to support you through every stage of this pregnancy, and the child's life. I am prepared to take an unbreakable vow never to deliberately harm or desert you or any children that lay in our future. I would even go so far as to-" he was cut off by Hermione throwing her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck as she sobbed. She wasn't put off by the way his whole body went rigid with shock, or by the fact that he did not return her hug. "Did I misspeak?" he asked in a voice that betrayed the tiniest hint of fear. "my intention was not to upset you."
Hermione sniffled, finally taking pity on him, "you haven't upset me, you great... idiot. I'm crying because I'm happy, and because my hormones have got me so whacked out I feel like I'm a different species." Tentatively, Severus patted her on the back.
"I do not have very much experience with pregnant women."
Hermione finally released him, wiping her nose on the tissue he handed her. "That's okay, Ginny says my hormones will settle eventually, and that we'll be able to read just about anything we need to know in books anyways. She even invited me, err, us, over for dinner so that we can spend time with her kids to kind of practice and... you don't like that idea much do you?" she stopped her babbling at the look on his face.
"I can imagine more pleasant ways to spend an evening, pickling my own spleen, for a start. Then I could perhaps begin on removing all my finger and toe nails."
Hermione sighed deeply. "Fine, I'll tell them we can't make it. I just thought that maybe, I mean, they are my friends, and you wanted me to give Harry that stuff, what ever it is..."
Severus felt a strange prickling sensation in his heart as his young wife, the woman carrying his child, hung her head in disappointed resignation. It felt almost like guilt. His conscience pushed forward in his memory his promise to make her happy, to be a supportive husband. "If going really means that much to you, I suppose we might visit with them for a short while. I do, after all, need to pass on that box to Mr Potter." The smile she gave him then could have taught the sun a few things about beaming. Suddenly she was in his stunned arms once more, sobbing on his shoulder. Taking a breath, Severus carefully enfolded her in his own arms, pulling her into his lap and against his chest. He smoothed her hair down with his fingers, stroking her cheek with his thumb. She calmed, remaining in his arms and he placed a soft kiss against her forehead. His thumb still skated across her cheek, his movements gentle, almost subconscious. After a while, Hermione turned her head, just enough that the next time his thumb danced past her lips could give it a gentle kiss. He paused for a moment, her own hand coming up to hold his against her cheek.
Hermione slowly kissed the tip of Severus' thumb again, this time drawing the very tip into her mouth, brushing the end of her tongue over it. She heard Severus' breath catch as she flicked with her tongue again. She was somewhat disappointed when he gently set her on her feet. "I imagine there may be a few other things we need to discuss before we get too distracted." Feeling chastised, Hermione returned to her seat across the table. She sipped her tea, he sipped his coffee, the silence began all over again.
Hermione had just started mentally preparing a list of things that needed t be done to the house to prepare for the arrival of the baby when Severus finally broke the silence. "There are many types of evil. It's like poison, it can manifest in so many ways, cause so many varying degrees of injury. It can lay dormant and undetectable for years, even decades. In fact, in many ways it is worse than even the strongest, the most complex poison, because to any poison there is an antidote, but for evil and the effects there of, there is no known cure." Hermione blinked, it was like being back in the classroom, only there was something in his voice, something hidden behind his words that sent shivers racing up and down her spine.
"Are- "
"Please, don't interrupt. This is hard enough without stopping and starting." He blew out a long low breath, raked a hand back through his hair and leant back in his chair. "The other problem with true evil is that it leaves a stain, a permanent scar on everything it touches," her eyes flew to the mark on his neck, just visible above his collar and then to his left forearm where she knew the lingering traces of the Dark Mark still resided. "I'm not talking about anything you can see, Hermione, I'm talking about something that festers and burns on the inside. Something that lives and breathes with the person inside whom it dwells, biding it's time like an unseen monster in a child's nightmare. Everyone it touches becomes contaminated, and it spreads its dark fingers out until everyone around it can feel its menace." He paused for a moment, but Hermione didn't try to ask another question, even though hundreds buzzed through her mind.
"There is no cure for evil." He repeated quietly, then in a stronger voice he gave her the confession he had been building up to. "evil ruins through my very veins. It was passed down to me from my father, and most likely from his father before him. I always knew it's presence, saw evidence of it in every bruise on my mothers body, knew it's burn from the first time he kicked in my ribs and then refused to take me to the hospital, or to let her use her 'filthy, degenerate ways' to heal me. It found me again in the school, not, as I'm sure you are expecting me to say, in the form of James Potter and Sirius black, no, they were nothing more than mindless idiots. I found it in the very rooms in which I slept, and that evil connected with my own, nurtured it, and strengthened it so subtly that I didn't even notice until it tried to take me over completely. I say tried, it very nearly succeeded. Lilly Potter saved my life the night she died just as much as she saved her sons. If he hadn't killed her I would have followed him right across the river Styx to shake hands with Hades. I asked him to spare her. Bloody hell, I outright begged him to spare her, appealed to him from every angle I could come up with. The best he could give me was that if she co-operated with him, she would live. That was the first time in almost 4 years that I questioned whether I'd made the right choice when I took his mark."
"So you went to Dumbledore." She whispered it without thinking. Her mind reeled. She had seen the memories he had given Harry in what he had thought would be his last seconds of life. She knew the story, but somehow, hearing him tell it to her made it so much more real.
He gave a dry humourless laugh. "Yes, I went to the mighty Albus Dumbledore. I threw myself on the mercy of the one wizard that scared even Lord Voldemort. I promised him everything I had to give in exchange for keeping her alive. I signed a contract that might as well have been my own death warrant. He gave me his word that he would protect her, and that was all I needed to hear. Naturally his promises were empty. I should have known that they would be after my years of faithful servitude with the Death Eaters. Don't misunderstand me, I'm sure he never meant to break his promise. It's only that once the Dark Lord decides to kill you, that's it, it's all borrowed time until the spell leaves the wand." He shook his head. "You know all this already, of course. I don't need to tell you what happens next, and I've moved away from my point. My point is that there is much evil in the world, and much evil in me. I don't know that I will always be in control of it. I need you to know that this evil is there, so that if it does manage to break free, you will recognise it for what it is and get the hell out."
Hermione sat in stunned silence. "I don't think there's as much evil in you as you think there is, Severus Snape and while I recognise that there is a dark side to you and I accept that, I don't for one second think you would ever let that dark side anywhere near your child." She told him softly.
"I just want you to be warned."
Hermione nodded, all her questions started to buzz once more and although she went to far as to bite the inside of her cheek in an effort not to ask them all at once and annoy him, still they started to escape her. Her voice was full of horrified disgust as she asked "how old were you when your father broke your ribs?"
"Which time?" his voice held absolutely no emotion. It made Hermione's whole body shake with rage.
"He did it more than once?"
"Unclench your fists, take a deep breath and try to relax. He's already dead."
"Did you-" the question died on her lips at the look he gave her.
"Don't ask questions you don't really want to know the answer to."
The blanket of silence fell again, but this time their eyes remained locked together. Finally Severus said slowly, "let us discuss something a little more civilised." He waited for her to nod and lower her gaze back to the table before he continued. "As I'm sure you are already aware, Minerva plans to reinstate the tradition of a Yule Ball at Hogwarts. This year, as it will be the first, she has asked a number of previous staff members as will as some of the more high profile ex students would also like to attend."
"I'm assuming we're on that list."
"Yes."
"I'm also guessing that we don't really have a choice in whether we go or not."
"If there was even the remotest chance that we would be allowed to decline, you wouldn't even know we'd been invited."
"You make it sound like it's a punishment."
"What else could it possibly be?"
They continued with a little light banter about the upcoming ball, Hermione finding it surprisingly easy to hold up this type of conversation with the man she had always thought too serious for this sort of thing. Perhaps, she mused, there were more sides to her husband than anyone had ever guessed, including himself.
When Hermione was almost at the bottom of her mug of ginger tea and a much more relaxed and friendly silence had fallen, she finally mustered the courage to slide a piece of paper out of her pocket and across the table towards Severus. He picked it up and eyed it suspiciously, when he had unfolded it he saw a muggle hospital appointment reminder card. "It's a midwife appointment." She explained simply.
"Shouldn't that be with a healer rather than a muggle doctor?"
"I don't want you to be angry, and I promise I will see a healer, but I kind of want to keep in contact with my muggle heritage. If I'd never found out I was a witch, I would be seeing a normal, everyday, non magic midwife, and I'd like to still see one for this pregnancy."
He nodded slowly. "As long as you also see a healer, I see no reason why you cannot also see a muggle midwife."
"So, you'll come with me?" she asked, a little uncertain of whether he was giving her permission to go or accepting her unspoken invitation.
"Someone's got to make sure the quack doesn't do anything stupid."
AN: Once again, my fervent thanks to all of you for being so patient and for your kind words of support through your reviews. Things seem to have settled down a bit now, and I am pleased to say that I can now promise there will be regular updates from this point on. I'm hoping to get chapters up at least twice a month, and I can tell you, if you're interested, that it will most likely be the second and fourth Sundays of each month. Anything extra on top of that is a bonus. Hugs and cookies, ForeverPandora.