A/N I got so many questions about a 'pageboy'. I must admit I found that word in my dictionary. A pageboy is like a flowergirl or a little bridesmaid, only a boy. You know, those cute kids in little suits that hang around the bride and groom all day being adorable. YES, that does mean Harry and Phoebe are getting married! I'm sure no one saw that one coming, right?
Disclaimer: I mean no insult to young mothers and playgroups anywhere. Don't sue, I have nothing for you to take but debts.
Warning: Those with weak stomachs should not read this.
Chapter 21: Severus's Playdate.
"…Mrs Norris had kittens. Argus is overjoyed, but Hermione suspects that her cat Crookshanks might be the erm…you know. The kittens are all rather large, ugly and a strange mix of orange and grey. And the Michaelson family wants to talk to you about David and Felicity. They will Floo in at 2 pm."
Albus Dumbledore, who had been grinning over the cats, frowned. "Do you know why? As far as I know, David and Felicity are doing well, aren't they?"
Phoebe nodded. "David is a second-year Ravenclaw and Felicity is in Hufflepuff, finishing her first year. I've asked Pomona and Filius, and they both say the children are doing well. David has an affinity for Transfiguration, Minerva has him doing third year coursework because he became bored. Felicity has trouble keeping up with Charms, but her teachers have noticed she is drawn towards all creatures great and small. She spends much of her time helping out Hagrid. No, it's not the children's academical accomplishments that brings their parents here. It's most likely their placement in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff."
"It is?" Dumbledore was surprised. "But I don't recall any objections when they were first Sorted."
"Parents send letters all the time," Phoebe said dismissively, "I answer most with a standard response of: "Placement by the Sorting Hat can't be contested, your child will most likely be happiest where he or she is now. If this is not the case, we will take action to insure your child's continued well-being, etc.". That is enough for most parents. The Michaelsons apparently expected their children to protest, and were waiting to see if we would resort them."
Dumbledore sighed. "I suppose they want them to be in Slytherin?"
"Albus!" Phoebe said reproachfully, "have you learned nothing?"
Waving his hand and blushing just the tiniest bit, Albus apologised quickly. "I'm sorry, dear, I shouldn't have said that. What House do they want then?"
"Gryffindor," Phoebe said, "they are dedicated Light wizards, or so they think, at least. Nothing but Gryffindor is good enough. David being in Ravenclaw was disappointing, but they grudgingly accepted it. Felicity however…you know how some people regard Hufflepuff."
"Perhaps I should ask Harry to be present when I meet with them," Albus mused.
Phoebe smiled. "He suggested that, too. He'll be up here later." She turned to leave, then remembered something.
"I forgot to tell you! I set up a playdate for you and Severus. I've asked some of my old classmates and Molly Weasley, and there's a group of toddlers, all about one or two years old, who get together for playdates regularly. If you still want to go, they are meeting Friday morning. I've got the Floo address."
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
A bit nervous Albus Dumbledore threw powder in the Floo. He held Severus on one arm and balanced the diaper bag on his other shoulder. Stepping out of the fireplace at the other end, he was greeted by a young blonde woman with a toddler clutching the hem of her robes.
"Hello, you must be Severus," she cooed at the child, "Would you like to play with the other children in the garden? Oh, he is a doll," she smiled at Dumbledore.
Feeling ridiculously proud, Dumbledore nodded. "He's a wonderful child."
"Well, come on. A few of the others are here already. Through that door, into the garden. Help yourself to a cup of tea and a scone. And don't worry, the yard is fenced and there are kiddywards in place."
"Kiddywards?" Dumbledore inquired.
"Yes, you know, wards to keep the toddlers inside and away from any water. They also go off if one of them is seriously hurt. Surely you have heard of them?"
"I'm afraid not, dear lady." Albus put Severus on the floor and took his hand. They slowly made their way into the garden, where three young women were sitting, drinking tea and keeping an eye on the children.
The old wizard greeted each of them, but had to fight back a blush when he noticed one of the young mothers, apparently the mother of the two year old playing with blocks in the grass, was nursing a baby. Trying not to let his gaze linger on any exposed skin that he shouldn't usually be looking at, he distracted himself by settling Severus with the other children. The eldest, a girl of about three, immediately offered some toys and decided to make Severus her special charge of the day.
One more woman joined them a few minutes later, her toddler and baby in tow. Dumbledore gallantly helped her with her bag and poured her some tea.
"So nice to have a father here," his hostess crowed, "we don't have that very often. Your little one is absolutely adorable. How old is he? A little past a year?"
"Fifteen months," Albus responded.
More cooing ensued.
"And how many teeth does he have? How long has he been walking already? Does he say some words?"
The aged Headmaster dutifully answered all questions. "He has about ten teeth now, I think. He started walking just before his birthday, and he can say several words. Ball, food, and nits are the most important ones."
"Nits?" the women asked.
"Snitch," Albus clarified, "he's very fond of his toy snitch."
"Awwww," the women smiled, "do you remember Mrs Harden's boy, Jonathon? He used to love toy snitches too at that age."
The discussion continued about people Dumbledore had never met, and children he would most likely not see until they would come to Hogwarts in half a decade or so. Severus, however, seemed to be amusing himself immensely. The girl was playing with him, and she seemed to understand the mixture of understandable English and babbling perfectly well.
He sighed, and sipped his tea. Then the talk turned to labour and childbirth.
One of the women, the breastfeeding one, was relaying the story of her child's birth.
"I woke up one morning and felt such a terrible pain in my back ... found out almost too late that some women have labour pain in their backs .. and I almost did not make it to the hospital."
Noises of horror and sympathy were made, and tea was poured out again, fortified with some chocolates.
"Well I did not have that problem, but .. I ate Christmas dinner ...and then went into labour ...and I was given an enema and it worked .. but .. after 25 hours of labour .. I began to push and more of the Christmas dinner err ..came out .. I was so embarrassed ..I did not know that labour pains are like having a bowel movement."
Albus suddenly found his chocolates less than appealing. The women around him giggled and nodded.
"Oh yes, I think we all know that one. It's perfectly normal, they say, but no one tells you that in Lamaze class!"
"My son's head was in the wrong position," another mother said while she wiped said son's face with a handkerchief that she had spat on, "it was very painful because it was pressing down instead of out. In the end, the doctor had to go in and turn him around. There's barely enough room for a baby's head to come through, imagine the hands of a grown man around that!"
That was something Albus definitely did NOT want to imagine. Going a little green, he put down his tea and chocolates, and frantically hoped Severus would start crying.
"What about Severus?" one of the women suddenly asked, "was there any trouble having him?"
Dumbledore looked over his shoulder at his boy.
"Oh yes," he absentmindedly said, "worst three days of my life. I've never been in so much pain."
The women exchanged shocked looks.
"You mean…you delivered him yourself?"
Dumbledore nodded. "I was alone in my office. There was no one else present, not even the school nurse. I went through the whole process on my own, and I can tell you, it's no picnic having to make rational decisions when your emotions are somewhere else. All the pain was worth it, though, when I held him in my arms for the first time and saw his tiny fingers and toes."
The group was speechless. They stared at him in awe.
"How…how did it start?" one of them asked.
"I needed to use potions and spells, or it wouldn't have worked," Albus answered matter-of-factly, "Fortunately I'm rather good with a wand."
He grinned inwardly at the stunned young mothers. Even the baby had stopped suckling.
"Well, ladies, it has been delightful, but Severus and I need to go. Thank you so much for your hospitality, the tea was delicious."
Gathering the bags and the retrieving the correct child from the mass, he Floo'ed back home.
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
"Albus! Albus Dumbledore!" Phoebe entered right in the middle of a chess game between the Headmaster and the History professor.
"Yes, Phoebe?"
"Albus, would you care to explain to me why I am getting Floo calls from the entire playgroup? What have you done?"
"Nothing," the blue eyes twinkled merrily, "I had a wonderful time with those lovely ladies."
Harry watched the exchange with interest. When the Headmaster got that look on his face, something was up, he knew it.
"They are under the impression that you carried and gave birth to Severus yourself, Albus! Hermione has been pestered with all kinds of questions about male pregnancies and why such a discovery wasn't made public. The elder students have been demanding that she teaches them how to make contraceptive potions for males. What did you TELL them?!?!"
Harry was by now giggling helplessly in his chair, unable to get up or talk.
"Only the truth, dear. Not a word I said was untrue."
Phoebe glared at Albus.
"They were swapping childbirth stories and I wanted to fit in," the ancient Mugwump defended himself.
Another stern look made him beat an early and rather hasty retreat to his own chambers, followed by the helpless laughter of Harry Potter.
