"Just one thing is bothering me Hermione" He spoke evenly and she looked at him curiously.

"Who the hell puts their angry German attack dog in a pink collar and calls him Sacha?"

She laughed all the way down stairs.

It turned out the dog was a white (pink) Dobermann, and had been a very expensive one at that. A four figure expensive. Brought over to the UK as a puppy from Germany, for a year he'd been the ultimate poser's dog for 'big lads'. Rare, expensive, trained to high level obedience, to attack and guard. Ears cropped and tail docked he'd competed up and down the country at popular (and illegal) dog events. And then, as white dogs are prone to do, he'd gone irreversibly blind. They'd attempted to retire him to stud to recoup their losses, only to find he was not at all interested in the bitches and perhaps a little too interested in the other studs.

Suddenly the sightless pink dog, that was only interested in other dogs, was no longer the big lad's dream poser dog.

"Only you could buy a blind, pink, gay, German, attack dog" He said with a chuckle as they drank their tea and she responded with a chuckle of her own.

"Technically I rescued a blind, pink, gay, German attack dog" Her smile was contagious and he found himself smirking back to her. "Exactly how does one go about rescuing a fabulous pink attack dog, German or no?" He asked and she smiled ruefully. "One takes an injured bird to the vets, stumbles upon a chav wanting to have the pink monster put to sleep, as he can't be bothered with the hassle of owning a blind dog, and offers him the contents of ones purse to take the dog with you instead"

Raising his cup to his lips once more he asked with mirth, "And what was this steep price that bought the great beast that is laid like the proverbial sphynx guarding my son?"

"£27, some mints, a tampon and a free McDonald's voucher from the newspaper"

He barked out an actual laugh at that, almost spilling the entire contents of his (perfectly brewed) cup of tea and she giggled back as he put his cup down for fear of spilling any more of his precious tea. "But now the real question is did he take the mints, tampon and McDonald's voucher?"

She laughed as she answered drolly. "Every last tic tac"

"He didn't" He chortled as she emphatically affirmed it once more "He did! I swear to Merlin he did!"

"But surely not the tampon and voucher!"

"Hey, that was an actual tampax and not own brand crap, he probably took it for his missus." He was practically in hysterics as he asked "And the voucher?"

"He might've got hungry on the way home" She responded and he was suddenly laughing harder than he had in years despite himself.

"That's not it though" and he tried to calm himself as he watched her mischievous face. "I'd just been to the apothecary, and I had raw burba root too"

"You didn't!" He gaped "You're having me on!"

"I'm serious! You chew it during pregnancy and it can help relieve cravings!" She started laughing in earnest then as she said "He probably thought it was weed!" He gaped at her for a moment, but then she met his eyes and he cracked up. He was laughing so hard his cheeks ached and his ribs were sore, at the thought of the hard man, muggle chav who was likely to be growing some very impressive chest accessories if he had smoked the raw burba root, for burba root once burned broke down and the broken down root mimicked oestrogen in the human body and was often used by healers in potions for hormone therapy or in rare cases gender re-assignment.

Yes the horrible chav that sold his disabled dog, was most likely and unexpectedly, growing a spectacular pair of tits.

oOo

His prior theories about her vegan-ism were confirmed when she pulled out the 'roast' she'd prepared for dinner. "Sorry, I may have deceived you when I said 'roast'" She looked at him sheepishly, yet still hopeful. "I hope you won't hold it against me, I'm usually vegan, but I've reverted to vegetarian while I'm nursing, technically it is a 'roast' though."

It was a roast. It was a nut roast actually,quite obviously homemade from scratch and not store bought and frankly Severus didn't give a flying doxy that it was. He'd never been a man that obsessed much over meat, especially during the time of the war when he frequently suffered from stomach ulcers due to the stress and always associated the imbibing of red meat with the crippling stomach pains and nausea that came after. More recently after some of the bland, tasteless and rather dubious cold tinned produce he'd been eating from the muggle clearance stores, the highly spiced and aromatic nut roast she was presenting, with various butter roasted vegetables and sweet onion gravy that she was plating up had him practically salivating, and ready to become a card carrying member of the vegetarian league, if it meant he got to eat meals like the one she was putting in front of him. Though he simply said. "I'm sure I shall survive"

She'd smiled at him then, seemingly genuinely pleased at his response, will wonders never cease, as she encouraged him to the table and presented him with a fresh cup of juice to go alongside the dinner. The taste of the obviously fresh-squeezed juice lit across his tongue and he had to hold back a very verbal and visceral reaction. After many months of living off the cheapest packaged muggle fast food, like instant noodles and tinned spaghetti, he could practically taste the vitamin C as the vibrant juice rolled across his tongue, cleansing his palette of the residual taste of tea, in preparation for the meal ahead.

It was clear between her upper class parents and Molly Weasley that she had been tutored in how to be the perfect dinner host, keeping his cup filled and ensuring that he had a heaped pile on his plate. The conversation flowed easily between them, and he could practically feel his brain cells that had been stagnating in his destitution, waking up, perking up and firmly setting their sights on her. He marvelled at how easy she was to talk to. She was brilliant of course, and this was probably the first time he'd been able to have a truly in-depth intellectual conversation with her. She didn't have the potions knowledge that he did, but had enough of a grasp of advanced brewing to hold her own in a conversation on the subject. And what she lacked in his field, she more than made up for in her own. Having to stop and backtrack more than once to explain advanced charms and arithmancy theorems to him when she'd had lost him in her descriptions. She was never condescending though, offering him the information simply so that he could pick himself back up in the conversation and carry on.

He ate a large plate of the food she offered, taking it slowly so as not to tax his neglected stomach and savouring every mouthful and she insisted on him taking a second helping so that they could continue their "adult dinner conversation" as she put it, a very novel yet pleasantly new experience for her she'd explained and that he could fully understand. For after going from the ridiculousness of the Gryffindor table, to the hubbub of the burrow, the drollness of her life with Ronald Weasley and subsequently her time alone, he doubted she'd ever had the chance to have a real intellectual conversation with anyone who could even vaguely resemble holding their own against her formidable intellect.

When they finished their meal she brought out a decadent desert of the best bitter dark chocolate, with sweet coconut cream, salted caramel and homemade shortbread. After his second helping of pudding, as it just went so well alongside their post-dinner coffees she reasoned, and who was he to go against such sound judgement? She'd admitted to tricking him into experiencing his first fully vegan pudding. Once more he'd offered her a slight frown and a non-committal comment, though internally he was considering handing in his vegetarian card and upgrading to the vegan package, as he eyed the leftover coconut cream on her plate.

oOo

They were interrupted by Sacha chuffing at her from the top step and before he had time to panic, she had reassured him that the dog was just letting her know the babies were stirring. She had wards of course, that alerted them a moment later, but told him the dog didn't know that, and dutifully praised the "good dog" for letting her know when they reached the top step where it waited to lead them into the nursery. He rather unexpectedly had a large wedge shaped head, press itself into his hands and found himself automatically repeating her praise to the canine who's stumpy tail wagged in pleased response to the repeated affirmation that he was indeed a 'good boy'. Trotting along ahead the dog then dutifully led them to the crib, as though they might have forgotten where they had left their offspring, whereupon he at last settled onto the floor beside them, once Hermione and himself had removed both stirring babies and taken a seat on the sofa with them.

He got his first look at the awake Rose, who fussed for what seemed an inordinately long time before feeding, unlike his own son who had latched on straight away. Even once latched on Rose was unsettled, kicking out and complaining and frequently letting go. Hermione bore it all stoically with little more than a harsh sigh as the girl fretted in her arms. After a moment she gave him and his son a considering look before beckoning for him to pass the boy over. His expression must have given away his incredulity at this course of action as she simply offered him a wry chuckle. "Humour me"

Capitulating to her vastly greater experience, whilst trying to not to allow his face to flame as red as it felt like it was, he passed his son over and after ascertaining she was not concerned with his gaze upon her, watched as she settled his son into her opposite arm. Once in position his son greedily latched on once more, chubby hand resting atop her breast as he kicked happily and settled into nursing. The fussing Rose seemed to quiet once more with the presence of his son beside her, and Hermione heaved out a sigh that he didn't know if it was relieved or resigned and he was once more surprised at Rose, who must be at least 3 months older than his son when held beside him, was barely the same size. Sacha also seemed inordinately pleased with the presence of his son. Frequently sniffing and snuffling the small baby in her arms, tail wagging as though he'd found some great prize. An ugly suspicion began to raise in his mind, but he dare not give it voice.

When both babies had drunk their fill, she almost reluctantly handed his son over to him, and they both stood and walked and rocked the babies in unison until they had matching towels covered in spit-up over their shoulders almost in sync. Sharing an amused look with him, Hermione took him to the changing room and talked him through the absolutely appalling task that was changing the children's nappies, this time supervising him as he applied the ointment to his son's skin. The nappy change was a heinous task that had him suppressing his gag-reflex more that when he'd come back from the summer holidays to find some moronic student had hidden a open jar of murtlap carcasses in his classroom, that had decomposed over the summer. Though Hermione assured him that he'd handled it with more stoicism than the male race as a whole was known for.

He watched with a small smile as Rose once more fussed and kicked on the changing table, and his son reached a chubby fist towards her, which she grasped in her own. They were holding hands. He smiled at Hermione, at the warmth and innocence of the moment, the two babies gaining comfort from one another, only to find that she was not sharing in his warmth. In fact her expression had sank and became at once cold and haunted, and once more the ugly suspicion rose in his mind with startling clarity.

When she met his eyes she must've realised that he had noticed her manner, and picking up Rose as he picked up his son, she gestured him to follow her in the nursery. "There's something we should talk about"

And he realised then and there, that as bad as his day had been so far, it was about to get a whole lot worse.