Severus sat in his arm chair in his sitting room of his house at Spinner's End staring at the faded spines of the many books on the shelves of the opposite wall. He had been discharged from St Mungo's yesterday morning and had left as soon as he was able, hoping to avoid an encounter with Ms Lovegood at which he had thankfully been successful. But now, as he sat he found he could not free her from his thoughts. He had not wanted to involve her in his needs and did not trust Healer Pye to respect those wishes. He knew no other way to avoid the inevitable awkward encounter that was sure to happen other than to ensure she was not present when he discharged. In retrospect, it seemed unusually cruel to not even have left a note thanking her for her concern. But what could he have possibly written - best of luck with that pregnancy and childrearing situation?
He sipped the firewhiskey in his left hand as he turned his wand in his right. Yesterday, he had momentarily forgotten the whole situation with a hot shower and a change out of the St Mungo's robes into his own attire. He had managed to clean and dress his wounds, but it had been awkward and clumsy being that he could not see the area without a mirror and he still fatigued so easily. Sleep eluded him so now he found himself with nothing else for distraction and even the alcohol was not enough to cloud his thoughts.
Was she sitting alone at the Leaky Cauldron now, or perhaps cursing his name with the Weasley clan? Or Potter? His jaw tightened as he sneered. The fact that he was bothered by the thought bothered him even further.
She would be judged harshly when it became obvious she was bearing a child out of wedlock, even though she deserved to be revered as a war hero as her friends most certainly would be. And now, thanks to Potter's big mouth, he himself likely would be as well. But a pureblood witch, even if a bit odd stemming from an eccentric family, pregnant and husbandless would likely still be a scandal, even with all the war gossip to keep minds busy. And could the Quibbler really keep her afloat? He doubted it. Eventually, things would stabilize and the war would become old news. What then would she have with which to complete against The Prophet? Back to the conspiracy theories and fantastical beasts?
But what was he to do about it? Luna had been very clear that ending the pregnancy was no longer an option in her mind even if he could provide that for her, and at this point, not a very safe option even if she had been willing. Although he was quite confident he could provide her with appropriate potions to resolve it and treat her afterwards. Perhaps he could insist upon it. Did he not have a say in all this nonsense? No, and he was a terrible person to even think he deserved an opinion. He had lost that option months ago.
If not that, then what else could he offer? It is not like he could just up and propose to her considering the circumstances. Not that she would have that, either. He doubted she would even accept financial support, not that he had much to give. He was currently unemployed, aging, and convalescing after all. Such a catch.
He sighed as he stood. "You are a fool," he whispered to himself as he grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the flames. "The Leaky Cauldron."
Severus brushed the soot from his black robes as he stepped free from the hearth. Approaching the bar, he cleared his throat. He recognized Tom, the owner, behind the bar.
Tom, glanced up, his eyes widened and jaw slacked. "M-M-Mr Snape? But you-"
"Yes, I am dead. So I have been made aware. Unfortunately, that rumor is false." He leaned in closer. "However, I quite prefer the rumor persists as long as possible."
Tom regained his composure and looked around at the empty room. "Of course. Then how might I help you, Sir?"
"I am looking for Ms Luna Lovegood. She informed me she was staying here."
"Did she?" Tom raised an eyebrow.
"Is she here?" He tightened his brow.
"I am not at liberty to say." He cleared his throat, looking around the room again. "But perhaps you will stay for dinner. Might I suggest the table over there?" He nodded his head toward a small table near the fireplace.
Severus followed his gaze hoping he had correctly interpreted that that was Luna's usual seat. "You may. I will have the steak and kidney pie."
"Yes. And to drink?"
"Whiskey."
"I will have it right over."
Severus nodded and proceeded to the table. Staring down at the two chairs, he questioned himself. But with a long sigh, he sat, rubbing his temples as he stared into the fireplace.
He heard her soft footsteps approach from behind him.
"Sir, you look terrible," the blonde witch chided as she sat before him, dressed uncharacteristically drab in a grey jumper and dark trousers without her usual adornments with her wand in its usual perch behind her ear. She frowned.
He stiffened in the wooden chair. "I haven't slept much. And you may still call me Severus."
Her eyes brightened. "Of course, Severus. You look terrible. But I suppose it is to be expected, all things considered."
He nodded. "I suppose so."
She smiled. The corner of his mouth twitched in response. "I do prefer this attire though. It suits you," she added.
He glanced down at his black frock coat and trousers. It was his usual choice, but compared to the beige St Mungo's garb, it was certainly more fitting.
"And you Ms Lovegood? How are you fairing?"
"I am as I always am." She chewed her lip as her eyes wandered.
He grunted at her cryptic answer.
"Did you need something, Severus?" She tilted her head as she looked at him.
"I am not really sure." He sighed.
She nodded. "Oh really? I find that surprising."
He simply nodded. So did he.
"I tried to send you a letter. But, the owl returned it."
He nodded again. "I find myself in a difficult situation that I am unsure how to navigate. What do you want from me, Luna?"
"I don't want anything from you." Shaking her head, she laughed as if it was truly an absurd notion that she could desire anything from him in this situation or any other. "I only wish for you to be happy."
He leaned over the small wooden table, his eyes narrowed. "Are you happy, Luna?"
Her silvery eyes locked on him, so wide. They sat in silence for several long breaths as so many emotions flashed across her face. "I would like to say yes."
"But?"
"But that would not be entirely honest." She paused, looking away and then back. "It is not that I am unhappy, I don't think. I am simply... overwhelmed." She broke their gaze and stared down at her lap.
He nodded. "I would think to be anything less would be more unusual."
"Do you think so?" She glanced up at him, a smile playing at her lips.
"Yes. In fact, I think you saying such is probably the most unpredictably predictable thing I have encountered about you, Luna."
Her smile grew. "And what were you expecting?"
"Moon frogs and nargles, I suppose." He huffed.
She laughed as her dreamy eyed look overtook her features. "So you do remember from before...I wasn't sure."
He rubbed a temple. "You do leave an impression, Luna."
"Thank you. That might be the closest thing to a compliment I've ever heard you speak."
"An error in judgement, perhaps," he mumbled.
She shook her head. "But, Severus?"
He glanced back at her.
"Really, what brought you here?" Her face was suddenly serious, filled with concern.
He stared over her shoulder to the flames behind her. What exactly had he been hoping for? He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.
"Severus. You're bleeding." The witch gasped as she stood.
He reached for his neck, feeling the warm dampness at his collar.
"Here," she touched his shoulder as she moved close. "Come to my room, and we can get you fixed up."
Standing, he scanned the room, still no one but her and Tom. Strange it was so empty.
"Tom, Sir. I will take dinner in my room if that is okay?" Luna said as they passed by the bar.
Severus glared at the cocked look the barkeep gave them as they ascended the stairs together.
As they entered, papers went flying off the small desk. Her school trunk sat open at the end of the unmade bed and overflowed with brightly colored clothing, shoes, robes, parchment, quills and books endlessly across the floor, almost like an abstract painting, swirled with color everywhere about the otherwise very brown room. "Sorry for the mess…" She hurriedly pushed some of her belongings back into the trunk.
He sat in the chair beside the desk as she indicated. It was littered with copies of the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler.
She dug through the mess for a moment before pulling her wand from behind her ear with her left hand. "Accio medikit." A tin box surfaced from the bottom of the pile and jumped into her hand. She clicked it open and pulled out the dressings and wound healing salve.
Rolling up her sleeves, she leaned in close to him, the dandelion scent of her soap wafted over him. He tried to focus his eyes on a point on the ceiling above her.
"Does it still hurt?" she asked softly, her breath on his cheek.
"Not like before." He reached for his top button.
"Allow me," She reached for his collar.
He raised his hand as he stiffened. "That is not necessary."
She clicked her tongue. "This dressing looks awful. Did you do it in the dark?"
He sighed and dropped his hands.
She nodded as she began to loosen his collar and remove the old dressing. "I am glad your voice is mostly unharmed."
He raised an eyebrow.
"You wield it so well." She pressed her wand to his skin and mouthed her quiet healing spell. "Would be a pity to lose that."
He snorted. "Indeed."
She gave a half smile. "I really worried I might never hear it again. I did so enjoy listening to it in class. Bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses and all..." She trailed off.
His eyes drifted down to where her sweater met her trousers only half hearing her words. He sighed. "I wish you would reconsider, Luna."
"Reconsider what?" She mumbled as she studied his wounds.
"This...the… your...um, pregnancy. It is not fair for you to have to bear this burden for my transgressions."
She paused pulling her wand away from his flesh and let out a soft sigh. "I cannot." Her hand brushed her abdomen. "I've already heard his heartbeat and felt him move. He's real to me now. We are connected."
He felt the blood drain from his face. A son. "Him...he?"
Her wand touched his neck again as her fingers probed the tender injuries. "Well, I cannot tell for sure, of course. There is no spell for that that I know of. But when I first felt the tiny fairy wings this morning…" her hand drifted to her rest below the waistband of her trousers. "I just sensed something that makes me think so."
"Just this morning?" He swallowed. He should have come to her yesterday.
"Yes." She smiled brightly as her gaze became distant. "Such a strange thing. I wish I had better words to describe it for you."
"But still, Luna. Are you sure?"
She sighed and stepped back from him. "Severus, I meant what I said before when I said I wanted you to be happy. But my answer is no. If that means we pretend this never happened, that is okay. I am quite fine with that."
He closed his eyes as his jaw tightened. "There will be questions." He attempted to catch her gaze.
"I know." Her eyes avoided his as she continued her healing efforts.
"And what will you say?"
"I don't have to say anything at all. People are welcome to assume whatever they wish. They will anyway. I am quite used to it already". Her eyes briefly met his.
Severus huffed in response. "And of your happiness, Luna?"
"I will find it." Her eyes remained on her work, her soft fingers on his inflamed flesh.
"You sound so confident."
"Because I am." She charmed the clean dressing in place. "That's better."
A knock at the door drew her attention away. "A moment." She waved her wand over each of her hands in turn with a cleansing charm and stepped to the door.
Tom stepped in with the two dinners trays.
"Thank you, Tom." Luna reached for the trays, but Severus jumped up to grab them.
Tom gave him another curious look as he bowed his head. "Have a good night Ms Lovegood, Mr Snape."
"You too, Tom." Luna replied and turned to grab her tray.
She took a seat on the bed, set her tray down beside her, and twisted her wand back into her hair over her left ear. She sighed as she reached for a chip.
"What is it?" He watched her.
"I still have nausea and no appetite." She popped the chip into her mouth, chewing slowly. "Nothing tastes quite right."
He nodded, downing his whiskey. "It is my understanding that those symptoms are common."
"Yes. But Ms Weasley said I should be starting to feel better by now. That this is the time where things get easier before they get hard again." Her lips tightened.
"I imagine she would know better than I." While there were few things he would admit that Molly Weasley could best him at, understanding the happenings of the female body, especially in gestation, was one of those, considering her brood of redheads.
Luna laughed. "I imagine."
They sat quietly, each picking at their meals in seeming quiet contemplation. But the truth for Severus at least, was his mind was paralized with fear. The witch had quickened with his offspring and would bring that life forth into this new world. And she would do it with or without him. He knew he should feel something about this, to do something about this, to say something about this, but his mental faculties were failing him as he struggled against invading thoughts, struggling to keep his focus and failing.
"I have a house. You are welcome to it." The words fell out before he had even had the chance to think them through. Damn whiskey.
She looked over at him, her eyes wide with uncertainty.
"It is not anything. A small muggle home in a muggle neighborhood. But it is private and well protected."
She still said nothing.
"You should not be spending your resources on room and board."
She nodded. "I know."
"And?"
"Okay," she whispered.
His brow tightened. "Okay?"
She nodded again. "I will. I would be honored to accept the offer of your home."
"Then it is done." He stood. "I will go prepare and gather my things."
Her face tightened. "Gather your things? You don't mean you plan to move out if I move in?"
"Indeed." He buttoned his collar and straightened his robes. "Anything else would be improper."
Luna laughed. "Who cares about proper?"
He grunted.
"That is really unnecessary, and I'd rather stay here if that is the alternative."
He sighed. Had he thought his actions through, he would have anticipated that response. But if he had thought through his actions, he would have not made the offer to begin with.
"Besides. I can help you with that mess," she motioned to her neck.
"I do not need a caretaker, Luna."
"How about a friend then?"
He snorted. Not possible under such circumstances.
Her face sunk. "We can call it whatever you prefer."
"Necessity. We will do what is necessary. Regardless, I still must prepare. I shall return tomorrow." He paused. "If that is acceptable?"
She nodded. "Yes. But please don't overtax yourself on my behalf. You are still recovering."
He nodded. "Until then."
She smiled. "Yes. See you soon."
He stepped from the room, a tightness in his chest growing with each step. He descended the stairs to find the innkeep watching him.
"I require a few things, Tom. Do you think you might discretely procure them for me?"
Tom nodded. "Of course, Sir." Tom pulled out a piece of parchment and quill from beneath the bar and handed them to Snape.
He jotted down the list of necessities required to sustain two individuals in his house for the time being. "I shall return to tomorrow for these. I do appreciate your respect for my wishes to remain dead, of course." He cleared his throat. "And for Ms Lovegood's privacy." He added.
A/N: please leave me your thoughts. I will respond to each personally. Reviews really do fuel me. Keep them coming!