Love Isn't Pie

Miriam sat behind Severus' desk in their sitting room; she stared unseeing into the fire. The clock struck midnight. With a growl of frustration, she returned to her writing. She had been waiting the last three hours for Severus to come home. For the last two weeks, Severus went every night to his lab to work; since confirming her pregnancy he banned her from entering the lab citing safety concerns. While not unfounded, Miriam felt that Severus was using those concerns as an excuse to avoid her.

Things were not well between them. Miriam knew Severus was conflicted; she figured once they saw her doctor and Severus got answers to any questions, that his demeanor would change. It had not. He was not unkind in his words or physical with her in his actions; Miriam could have dealt with that. It was the opposite—polite to a fault. Instead, Severus was tip-toeing around her like a fragile hot-house flower. She felt like a guest in her own home. There was no ease or familiarity in their private time, and Severus had not touched her in weeks. He would often sneak in after she went to bed and be up and gone before her; she was lucky to get a kiss on the cheek lately. She would much rather have his anger than his deference.

With a wave of her hand, Miriam extinguished the fire; she sent the room into darkness when she did so. Mia's lower back throbbed and she shifted uncomfortably as she leaned against the straight back of the chair and waited. Severus was going to talk to her, tonight. He just didn't know it yet.

Severus rinsed out the cauldron he used and turned it over to dry. He glanced at the clock and figured Miriam was asleep by now. The pale wizard sighed; he knew Miriam was frustrated with him. He told Miriam the truth; he wasn't angry or unhappy about her pregnancy—his feelings were complicated. Severus felt ambivalence mixed with a heavy dose of worry that he would be just like Tobias. He didn't know what to do with his thoughts and feelings, so he slipped away and kept his hands busy. When he worked, it created a calm, orderly space for his mind. He didn't think about anything except the ingredients in his cauldron, and he knew what to do with those.

Miriam was already enamored with this child; she was the one with morning sickness and an off palate. It was Miriam who nodded off at seven in the evening because she was so tired. Miriam was the one, and Severus was just there. Sometimes he visited the library at night; he flipped through books, read up on babies and how they developed. Turns out, children need nurturing, guidance, and love. Severus never had those; he had no idea how to get them either, because he was pretty sure they didn't sell them in Diagon Alley. He read the pregnancy books the doctor gave them; he could recite all the facts as if he were discussing the weather, because that's how emotionally attached Severus felt. There was nothing tangible to the experience for him that made it feel real. Severus knew his feelings were wrong, so he kept them to himself.

Miriam was—and always would be—his first concern. He'd heard the trope about how the love for a child was all-encompassing, but Severus had his doubts. He did not know how he could possibly divide the love he had for Mia. Severus had no one to talk to about this—even if he did, he couldn't share his feelings without coming across as a cold-hearted bastard. He wondered if his father felt this way about him? Neither Miriam or the child needed his indifference, Severus thought morosely.

Severus silently opened the door to their sitting room. Perfect, Severus thought. The fire was out and the room pitch dark. Grateful for the cover, Severus unbuttoned his coat. As he turned around to hang it up, the lamp on his desk ignited.

With his wand in hand, Severus whirled around and saw Miriam at his desk. Her face was shadowed, but Severus could plainly see the anger in her eyes. He straightened and pocketed his wand. "Miriam, what are you doing up? You should be asleep."

"Why do you care if I sleep?" Miriam asked. Her voice was quiet, but there was a cold edge to it that Severus had heard before.

Trying to smooth things over, Severus remained calm. "Women in your condition need more sleep; it's not good to be up this late."

Miriam stared at him and said nothing. Finally, she rose and walked around the desk. "What the hell are you doing, Severus?" Miriam asked.

"I was brew- "

"Don't give me that bollocks!" Miriam yelled as she stamped her foot. "Why are you ignoring me?"

Her sudden burst of anger surprised him, but Severus hid it well. "I'm not," Severus said coolly.

Miriam looked at him in disbelief. "Now you're lying to me outright."

Severus sighed heavily. "Can we not do this, right now? Let's just go to bed and talk in the morning."

Miriam stared at him before she turned away and walked into the bedroom. Crisis averted, Severus exhaled and followed her. He sat down on the bed and toed his boots off. As he began to loosen his cravat, Miriam swept past him in her traveling cloak, satchel in hand.

Severus sprang up and followed her into the sitting room. "Miriam, what are you doing?"

"I'm leaving," Miriam said bitterly. She angrily shoved scrolls into her satchel and closed it. She crossed the room and yanked her hat off its hook. "I can't stay here with the way you've been treating me."

His calm façade shattered. "Treating you? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Severus asked incredulously. "I have done nothing but take care of you. And the baby." Severus added.

"Have you, though?" Miriam asked sardonically. "Have you really? When was the last time we spent an evening together? When was the last time you smiled at me, Severus? You're not taking care of me in the manner you used to. You haven't touched me in weeks! Then, you tack on our child like they're some kind of afterthought!"

"Well maybe it's because they are!" Severus snarled as he stretched his hand across the empty space between them.

Miriam's eyes widened in surprise before her face became unreadable. She walked over to the fireplace. The witch grabbed a handful of powder and stepped in. "Don't bother coming home this weekend. I don't want to see you for a while." Miriam dropped the powder. "Millwood," she said clearly, and in a whoosh of green flames she was gone.

Once again, Severus was alone. He ran his hand through his lank hair and let loose a string of obscenities that would make a sailor blush. This was not how things were supposed to go. Angry, Severus marched into their bedroom and slammed the door.

The next day, Severus taught his classes as though his life wasn't in shambles. Miriam was usually gone on Friday anyway, so everything appeared business as usual to the students and other teachers. When Severus arrived home after his last class, the reality of the situation slapped him in the face. The warmth that usually greeted him was gone. Their rooms were quiet and unwelcoming.

Severus sent for dinner and ate alone in front of the fire. He had a glass of firewhiskey, then started on another. As he drank, Severus stared at the flames and pondered. For all the esteem Miriam held for him, he was still an undeserving, broken person. There were no past experiences, no skill set he possessed to help him be a father. A normal person would feel something at least—excitement, or joy. Severus grimaced as the firewhiskey burned a trail down his throat. He was happy that Miriam was happy, but Severus knew that wasn't enough to raise a child well. The wizard wanted to be a good father; this child and Miriam deserved nothing less. Severus just didn't know how to get there. He growled in frustration; Miriam would be a smashing mum, and Severus would probably just give the kid reasons to need therapy.

Several glasses down, Severus finally decided it was time for bed. Severus made his way slowly downstairs, his thoughts on Miriam. The next thing he knew, he went arse over elbows and landed in a heap on the cold stone floor. Nosferatu yowled loudly and ran away under the couch. Severus stared darkly at the glowing eyes looking back at him and pulled himself up, then he swore loudly as pain shot up through his leg from his ankle. Cussing the whole way, Severus limped into the bedroom and flopped down across the bed. He was too tired and too tipsy to deal with anything, so Severus closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Hungover, Severus woke up the next morning on top of the covers in his wrinkled clothes. His ankle throbbed. He looked at Miriam's pillow; they had not been apart for this long in over two years. Severus wondered what she was doing and if the baby was alright. With a groan, he sat up and rested his head in his hands. He missed her.

Severus apparated into Gerald and Norah's garden later that morning. A shower, some hangover relief, and a pain potion did wonders; Severus felt almost human. He sported gray slacks, a navy-blue button down, and his old leather jacket, paired with a walking stick to help with his ankle. It was the best remedy he could come up with on his own, since he had things to accomplish today. If he hadn't promised Pops his help starting the garden seedlings, Severus would have stayed at Hogwarts nursing his wounds.

The backdoor opened to the kitchen. Severus could smell the coffee brewing in the pot and a faint aroma of bacon in the air. Everything was neat as a pin, and Severus glanced at the well-worn table in the corner. There were several seed packets, soil pots, and small plants already sitting on the table.

"Pops?" Severus called out loudly as he took off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair.

Gerald shuffled into the kitchen. "Severus! You just missed Gram; she ducked out to the shops." Gerald looked at Severus leaning on his walking stick. "What did you do?"

"I sprained my ankle," Severus said as he gently sat down. He sighed with relief.

"Ouch," Gerald said sympathetically. He sat down across from Severus. "Where's our little lass?"

Severus paused. "She's not coming," he said shortly.

"Ah," was all Gerald said. From his short answer, Gerald knew better than to press his grandson further. The two men worked quietly together as they began to fill the paper pots with soil and seeds.

Gerald watched Severus as he picked up a pen and wrote on the outside of a pot. "Is everything alright, Severus?" Gerald asked as Severus aggressively poked holes in the soil with his fingers.

Severus stopped working. He turned the pot around in his hands. As a couple, they had agreed not to tell anyone Miriam was pregnant because it was so early. It was their little secret, Miriam quipped. Now, he didn't even have her to talk to, and Severus felt like all his thoughts were slowly eating him from the inside.

Severus took a deep breath. "No, everything is a disaster."

Gerald frowned and sat his work aside. He folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. "I'm listening, if you want to talk about it."

"Miriam's pregnant."

"Oh, bless! That's exciting, isn't it?" Gerald said.

"For her, yes," Severus said quietly.

Gerald looked at his grandson. "You didn't want this pregnancy?"

Severus shook his head. "Whether it's wanted or not really isn't the problem."

Gerald nodded slowly. "So then, what is the problem?"

Severus made a sweeping gesture with his hands and pointed both index fingers at himself. "You're looking at it. I don't feel anything about this pregnancy really, except for worry that I'll be just like him. Since I'm so indifferent about it… I probably am," Severus said darkly.

"I've known you your whole life, Severus. I see very little of your father in you. In fact, you're like a pendulum that's swung the other way. Any traits you have that remind you of Tobias, you've clamped down on so tightly you often get in your own way," Gerald told Severus.

Severus frowned. "I don't follow."

"Severus, you and Miriam both have a tendency to go borrowing trouble. You get so into your own heads when you feel your reactions aren't the right ones, thinking you must have all the answers right now. Life rarely works like that, Severus. When you hide away by yourself, that makes it worse, that's why I said you get in your own way. "You've got to get comfortable with allowing yourself to be present, whether you have the answers you want or not."

Gerald got up and began to pour the coffee as Severus mulled over what his grandfather said. Gerald placed a cup of brew in front of Severus and sat back down. "What else is troubling you?"

Severus held the warm cup in his hands and watched the steam float away. "How did you divide the love you have for Gram when my father was born?" Severus asked.

Gerald frowned at Severus' choice of words. "What do you mean 'divide'?"

Severus appeared lost as he shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea what I'm doing. It took me entirely too long to figure out that I loved Miriam, and now, I don't know how I'm expected to give that to another person."

"Severus, love isn't pie. You don't slice it up, give it away, and have less than you started with." Gerald inhaled and steepled his hands. "Let's back up a second here. Do you love your mum, Severus?"

"Well, yes," Severus said with a frown, unsure what his grandfather was getting at.

"Alright. Do you love your gram and I?" Severus gave a subtle nod. "Okay, and you just told me you love Miriam."

"That's different," Severus said dismissively. "The feelings I have for her are…" Severus hesitated. "Well, they're just different," Severus said cagily.

"I know," Gerald said confidently. "Severus, you're not the first man to love his wife." His grandson stiffened slightly and glanced down at his coffee. The young man still looked confused. Perhaps his grandson would understand a different analogy better, Gerald thought. "All emotions are a spectrum, Severus. Hate and annoyance are different plants, but they share the same root. Love is that way, too. How you feel about us is different than how you feel about your wife. The same will happen when you hold your baby for the first time. That emotion will take a form different from how you feel about Miriam, but they are both still love."

Severus twisted his wedding ring around his finger and thought about everything Gerald just said. Life certainly was messy and complicated. Severus didn't do messy or complicated well, but maybe he wasn't a lost cause. He would just have to become comfortable with being uncomfortable.

When Severus left his grandparent's house, the daylight was slipping over the horizon. Gerald's parting words were encouragement to fix this disagreement with Miriam sooner rather than later. He remembered well Miriam's words to him before she left, but Severus needed to see her, her temper be damned.

Severus apparated to Millwood; the stone house was dark from the outside, save their bedroom window. He sighed heavily as he mentally measured the distance from where he stood. All this apparating and walking was doing a number on his ankle. Severus could feel the swelling get worse with every step he took. He walked as carefully as he could, and as he climbed the stairs Severus leaned heavily against the railing for support. "Miriam?" Severus called out as he walked down the hall towards their bedroom. There was no reply. He pushed open the door and surveyed the serenity; it was empty.

Severus' eyes drifted to the coffee table in front of the fireplace. A small tea service sat on a silver tray. Severus hobbled over for a closer look. A single triangle of cucumber sandwich sat on a plate with a small bite missing from the corner. Everything else was untouched, as though something interrupted Miriam's tea. His large hand touched the full cup of tea; it was cold. Papers from their last doctor visit were tossed next to the teacup, and Severus tilted his head to read them.

His dark eyes narrowed, and he snatched up the papers. The doctor had given them several checklists of symptoms and things to look for. The top paper of the pile said Come in Immediately If… and then a list followed. Severus squinted and could faintly discern check marks in pencil next to: fever…cramping… and…bleeding. Severus' grip on the papers tightened.

"Millie!" Severus bellowed. Millie appeared before Severus instantly, and before she could say anything, Severus spoke. "Where's Miriam?"

His voice was harsher than usual. Millie looked at Severus confused. "She went to the doctor."

"Damnit," Severus hissed. He threw the papers down and apparated straight from their bedroom.

Severus appeared at the apparition point about two blocks from Dr. Bickerstaff's office. He practically jogged the distance, his ankle screaming in protest. Breathing hard from the exertion and pain, Severus flung open the door and walked past the waiting area into the back office. The secretary started to say something, but Severus shot her a look that shut her up instantly.

Dr. T. M. Bickerstaff stepped out of a room, effectively cutting off Severus from the rest of his practice. "There you are, Severus. I was wondering when you'd get here."

His voice was calm, and Severus tried to match his energy but he was unsuccessful. "What's going on?"

The doctor studied Severus for a moment. "Miriam has a severe urinary tract infection that has spread to her kidneys. She was really dehydrated, but I think we caught it in time. Don't worry, the baby should be fine."

It took a moment to register that Dr. Bickerstaff thought he was worried about the baby. Severus tried to come off like that was his primary concern instead of his wife. "Oh. That's good, then, thank you."

Dr. Bickerstaff eyed Severus shrewdly. "We have Miriam resting and getting fluids. She's in room three if you'd like to see her."

Severus nodded and walked slowly down the hall. He paused at the door, then knocked once and entered.

Miriam was reclined in a bed with tubes sticking out of her left arm. Severus followed the tubes up to a clear bag hanging from a hook beside the bed. Her hair hung limp over her shoulders and her face was flushed. She looked at Severus, but said nothing. Severus eyed the chair beside the bed and limped his way over to it; he had to get off his ankle.

Severus hissed from the pain as he sat down. He propped his walking stick against the bed and looked at his wife. She wouldn't look at him; her eyes remained on the pale pink blanket covering her lap. After several minutes, he spoke. "I owe you an apology. You were right. I was avoiding you."

Miriam raised her eyes and looked at Severus, her face an unreadable mask. "Why?"

Severus inhaled sharply. "I didn't want to ruin your happiness. This pregnancy makes you shine, but…I feel indifferent. I keep reading the books, trying to catch a spark of what you're feeling. I can tell you this baby is about three pumpkin seeds long and how your body is changing, but it's like reading about it happening to someone else." Severus growled in frustration. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm scared to death of treating this child like my father treated me. So, I just stayed away."

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. A plump nurse with short, red hair came into the room. "Vitals check," she said sweetly as she sat beside Miriam on the bed. "Open," the nurse told Miriam. Miriam dutifully did as she was told and the nurse placed the thermometer under her tongue. Severus watched as she wrapped a cuff around Miriam's right arm. With her stethoscope she listened as she manually tightened the cuff. Satisfied, the nurse released the cuff and took her stethoscope out of her ears.

"Still a little high, but much better numbers than when you came in. Those pain meds must have helped." She squeezed Miriam's hand. "High blood pressure isn't good for the baby," the nurse added gently as she took the thermometer and read it. "Your fever is down, but we'll need it and your blood pressure lower before you can go home."

The nurse pulled a syringe from her pocket. "Dr. Bickerstaff wants to start you on some antibiotics right away. He wants to give you this immediately, and we'll send the rest of the pills home with you." She pulled on a pair of exam gloves and continued talking. "This has to go in your bum, dear, so I need you to roll to your side for me, okay?"

Miriam dutifully turned over on her side, facing Severus. She closed her eyes and felt the nurse pull up her gown and apply the cold alcohol swab. Miriam flinched slightly when she felt the needle stick.

"All done!" the nurse declared. She covered Miriam up and stood. As she checked Miriam's arm, she gave a nod of approval. "Your I.V. looks good. I'll be back in an hour to give you another bag of fluids."

They were left alone again and silence filled the room. Miriam looked at Severus. "Why are you even here, then, if that's how you feel?"

Severus frowned. "Because I love you. Just because I don't know how to do this doesn't mean I'm not willing to try."

Miriam scoffed. "And, what, may I ask, brought on this sudden introspection?"

Severus hesitated. "You'll probably be angry with me if I tell you."

"I'm already angry with you, so you may as well tell me," Miriam retorted.

"I had a talk with Pops this morning. So, he knows about the baby. I'm sorry I broke your confidence."

Miriam sighed heavily. "You know, Severus, you can talk to me, but you always pull away. Why do we do this to each other?" Miriam's jaw clenched. "Then you stroll in here like Lucius with his pimp cane seeking absolution, thinking I'll just forget how you treated me because you apologized. You say I'm your confidant and right hand, but then you hurt me by pushing me away. And it really, really hurts me," Miriam added bitterly as she angrily blinked her tears away.

Severus caught her jab comparing him to Lucius; under any other circumstances he'd have let it start an argument. Severus ran his hands through his hair and shifted in his seat, trying to get the pressure off his foot. "I don't want to fight with you anymore, Mia. All I can give you are my words. I am trying to sort out my doubts. I'm sorry," Severus said sincerely. "I want to do better, and I'm going to try harder to not be so reclusive."

Miriam frowned. "You think you're the only one with doubts?" she asked. "Severus, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing either. I've helped deliver three babies, but I've never been pregnant. I've never been through labor—I'm scared to death sometimes. Are you forgetting how my parents raised me?"

Truthfully, Severus was so caught up in his own worries he didn't even consider Miriam's. Silent, he shook his head.

Miriam huffed. "Contrary to what you may think, I don't think about this baby every single second of the day. It's so early, it's sometimes easy to forget I'm pregnant until I'm throwing up again. But when I do, yes, I'm happy. Because this baby is going to be the best parts of both of us, I just know it."

Severus closed his eyes. "I should have talked to you. I never realized you carried all that. I am a stupid man," Severus added bitterly as he shook his head.

Miriam's eyes softened. "You're not stupid, Severus." Severus looked unconvinced. "You might do stupid things sometimes, but you're not stupid." Severus gave a small chuckle and Miriam smiled. She reached out and grabbed Severus' hand. He looked at their hands, then at Miriam. "You can't continue to treat me like you were; I cannot bear it. Spare me your deference and give me some fire. I have enough love for this baby, from both of us, until you get there."

Overwhelmed, Severus kissed Miriam's hand and held it against his cheek. Severus straightened, but he still held on to Miriam's hand.

"What did you do to yourself, Severus, while I was away?" Miriam glanced at his walking stick.

"I fell down the stairs." Miriam's eyes widened. "It was my own damn fault," Severus added. "I will heal, eventually."

"Well, I want to take a look at it," Miriam told him as she gestured towards her lap.

"Let's just focus on you for now, hmm?" Severus said. Miriam opened her mouth to rebuff him, but a knock on the door interrupted her.

The younger Dr. Bickerstaff, Anthony, came in carrying a Styrofoam takeout box and a drink. "How are we all this evening?" the doctor asked. "Hungry?" he offered Miriam the takeout box and took a long sip from his drink, the straw making an obnoxious slurping sound.

Miriam opened the box, confused. "I thought you were off today?" Miriam said.

The doctor shrugged. "I was, but Tim called me in. He's concerned about you both, so I cut my date short."

Miriam grimaced. "I'm sorry, I bet your date loved that."

"Eh," Dr. Bickerstaff said nonchalantly. "If she can't handle it, then she's not the one-and there are plenty of other witches. We're in the business of babies, and they keep to their own schedule." He smiled and rocked back on his heels and looked at Miriam. "Speaking of babies, let's talk about yours."

Miriam paused; a chip covered in poutine halfway to her lips. "Alright," she said.

"Keep eating," Dr. Bickerstaff encouraged her. He pulled up a stool and got comfortable. "In fact, that's one of the things we need to talk about. I'm going to take you to task a bit here, Miriam, because you need to do better."

Severus noticed the guilt that settled over Miriam's face, but before he could say anything, Dr. Bickerstaff continued. "Babies are pretty resilient, as I've told you before. They're very well protected in the womb, so I always encourage my patients to live their life like they were before they got pregnant. You can still go running. Have as much sex as you want, whatever was normal for you is fine. Stay away from the items on the list we gave you, but Miriam, you have got to be mindful of how much water and food you're taking in."

Miriam swallowed and the chip felt like a rock stuck in her throat. "Okay," she said in a small voice.

The doctor opened a lower cabinet and dug around. "In fact, even if you're not hungry I need you to eat anyway, even if it's just a snack. I'll write out a nutrition plan for you to follow. Use this as well." He handed Severus a large water bottle. "This is your new best friend; I want you sipping water from this all day. If nausea is still a problem, you can dilute an anti-nausea potion into the water and drink it throughout the day. Any questions?"

Severus looked at Miriam and she shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Excellent. Now, let's take a look at your baby."

Severus watched with interest as Dr. Bickerstaff slid across the floor on his stool over to a large, tall, rectangular box next to the bed. He switched the machine on and adjusted Miriam's gown and blanket so that her abdomen was bare. He applied a clear, goopy gel to Miriam's skin and pressed down on her lower belly with a piece of the machine he held in his hand.

Dr. Bickerstaff's sole focus was on the black and white blobs in front of him. He clicked, typed, and moved the doppler with deft precision. "Here is the baby," the doctor said as he pointed to part of the screen. "They look perfect and healthy—everything is as it should be. Due date looks to be November sixth based off of measurements. The cramping you had was most likely from the dehydration and the blood was actually in your urine, not from the uterus." He looked at the couple and smiled. "Now, let's do my favorite part." He turned a dial and moved the doppler around once more.

Miriam and Severus looked at each other, perplexed. Suddenly, the silence in the room was replaced by a rapid whoosh-whoosh sound. "That's the baby's heartbeat," Dr. Anthony told them as he grinned.

Severus' dark eyes widened. He had never heard anything like it in his life. Severus closed his eyes as the sound continued. The heartbeat was fast, and strong. His senses seemed to be the catalyst his feelings needed. Suddenly, Miriam's pregnancy became very real. This heartbeat was something they created, together. Severus looked again at the black and white image; it was so very small for such a loud sound. Their child, was very small, Severus realized. His chest tightened, and Severus looked at Miriam lying next to him. Though she appeared happy, Miriam's face was wet with tears.

"I'll give you two a moment while I go get your sonogram," Dr. Bickerstaff said quietly as he left the room.

Alone at last, they looked at each other; without thinking, Severus leaned down and kissed her.

Severus' hair created a short curtain around them, but Miriam brought her hand up protectively to shield their private moment. Unwilling to let him go, she gripped the lapel of his jacket with her free hand. She could feel the heat from Severus' cheeks, and when they parted slightly, Miriam kept her hand in place. The couple shared a lingering look.

"We're having a baby," Severus told his wife, his words laced with wonder.

"We are," Miriam agreed. "Kiss me again, Severus," Miriam pleaded.

He gladly brought his lips to hers. As Miriam's soft lips moved over his, Severus felt her tongue twine with his. After a moment, he stopped kissing her. "Careful, that's how we got ourselves into this situation," Severus teased.

Miriam laughed, and Severus smiled. "It's good to hear your laugh," Severus said.

Mia tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. "It's good to see your smile. We can do this, together."

"Did you get the Snapes sorted?" Timothy asked his younger brother. He looked up from his work as Anthony made a copy of their sonogram.

"I think so," Anthony nodded. "Like you've said before, some people just need a tangible moment to get on board the baby train." He handed the sonogram copy over so Tim could place it in Miriam's file.

"Once again, you've saved the day!" Timothy called after his brother.

"You're weeel-coooome!" Anthony sang as he walked down the hall, waving the Snape's sonogram like a flag.

Dr. Bickerstaff laughed and shook his head at the retreating form of his younger brother. Tim had been at his practice long enough he possessed an uncanny ability to sus out his patient's needs. Severus and Miriam needed something concrete to wrap their minds around Miriam's pregnancy, and he knew an ultrasound would make all the difference. Timothy looked at the sonogram in his hands and smiled. Another healthy baby going to good parents—even if they didn't know they were, quite yet.