"You are not and never have been something to be endured Hermione Granger...only ever something to be held close and cherished"

And just like that, as though he hadn't just cut her metaphorical strings and taken all the air from her lungs, he was gone.

Two weeks later and he was sat in her room again, drinking her tea and nodding off whilst graciously tolerating the effusive affections of Sacha who was doing his best to take over the now vacant space in his arms that had been freed when he handed his son over for Hermione to nurse. To give the man credit where it was due, he was as accommodating as one could be with a canine the size of a small horse attempting to be his lap dog , though she suspected he had gotten used to it over the past couple of weeks, as Sacha was besotted with him, especially his voice (not that she could blame him) and would often comically tilt his head this way and that when Severus spoke, which amused Hermione to no end, she couldn't throw stones though, she enjoyed the man's voice and company just as much as Sacha, moreso if that was possible and she was certain if she had a tail or even a stump of one like the dog, it would certainly be wagging whenever Severus walked through the door, as for sitting in his lap, she wasn't willing to acknowledge that chain of though just yet.

With concern she looked over him. Though his son was always clean, comfortable and as happy as a baby could be at this age, Severus was looking increasingly tired and worn. A few days ago he'd even shamefacedly turned up and asked if he could use her bath, as his was being repaired, then departed shortly after. She had worried the embarrassment would prevent his return, but he had turned up the day after for their usual time and had seemingly chosen to pretend the incident hadn't happened. Their so called 'Lunches' usually lasted from just before noon , to well into the night , to the point where it was not uncommon for Severus to be apparating home gone 11pm. And during these 12 hour visits it had become the norm for Severus to fall asleep for a few hours after both they and the children had eaten. He was always distraught and mortified afterwards but had started to become less so after Hermione's warm assurances that it simply meant she was doing a good job as host, stating her mother's oft spouted wisdom about how to 'properly' feed a guest, and her own father's long time habit of falling asleep after a home cooked meal from her mother, echoed by her experiences of Arthur doing the same thing more than once at the burrow.

"Try as you might to deny it Severus, you're still a human male and nature catches up to you. My mum used to say that if my dad wasn't out for the count after a homecooked meal then she hadn't done it right". She had never thought a creature like Severus Snape could be bashful, but he always seemed to be when discomfited. As worried as she was about him, she couldn't help but find it adorable when he fell asleep on the settee after their meals. She charmed his cup so it would not spill and made sure to also add a charm to his robes to ensure that Sacha's hair wouldn't stick, noting that the 'old pair' he'd worn on his first visit, was the same one he wore on each subsequent visit. With both babies safely in her care, Sacha would usually find himself curled upon the settee with Snape, which never ceased to amuse her. The dour man all in black, and the pink and white dog guarding his sleeping form.

Having a newborn was certainly tiring and being an only parent was even more so , she almost couldn't comprehend factoring in the surprise element of his son's arrival in his life, but still she was worried and she had a sneaking suspicion that the few scant hours he got on her settee every other day, was the only sleep he was getting at all and it had made her wonder why, as the little boy himself slept like a dream and was no bother at all.

She had continued to press him to name his son, as much as she was wiling to do without crossing the line into haranguing him until eventually he had admitted as all along she had suspected, that he'd been somewhat subconsciously stopping himself from settling on a name because once his son had a name, it all became so very real. And considering the abrupt and traumatic nature of his arrival, there was no way she could blame him for that.

And so for now she allowed him to sleep, but when he awoke she would have to talk straight with him, she couldn't skirt around the truth of his situation any longer, not after what she had discovered and his son still needed a name.

When he returned from Hermione's home that first day, he had stood in the middle of his squalid bedsit frozen and trembling, verging on hyperventilating until his son started fussing in his arms from the chill in the air.

His son. He still could not quite comprehend it.

Then he had set himself to action. Hermione had gifted him a Moses basket for his son to sleep in, something that she had assured him was a whim purchase and unneeded when she already had a wonderful cot at home. Along with a number of other items that even shrunk as they were , he was struggling not to drop from the sheer amount of them.

Endlessly grateful for her excessive shopping habits , he scourgified and re-scourgified a corner of the room and piled out a number of the items.

Setting his son down gently in the Moses basket , he was about to ward it when he felt a hum of magic resonating from the basket itself. He almost snatched the boy back until he felt the recognition warm him. That flowing script was here too, engraved on the side of the basket itself. Runes for warmth, cleanliness, safety and above all...comfort. It was Her magic, he realized with a start. Hermione had imbued a part of herself when creating this, and not only that but it was magic he nor any other wizard would ever be able to recreate. Mother's Magic.

Pushing back the emotion he gently settled his son, treating the basket almost as preciously as the boy himself he added a layer of his own protection around the basket to protect it from the less than favourable conditions of his bedsit. It was strenuous to set such a number of wards that were constantly in use. Wards to clean the air of the mould on the walls, wards to take the chill off the air, wards to block out the sounds of the other apartments and denizens of the street, wards to stop the water that leaked from touching the moses basket. And his own formidable blood wards of protection, along with the strongest notice me not he could muster on all the baby paraphernalia in the room.

By the end, the his son was gurgling comfortably in the basket non the wiser, while Severus's knee's almost buckled at the amount of power the wards drew from him. The drain on his strength was worse than when he was headmaster of Hogwarts. With a start he realized he wouldn't be able to keep the wards up all over his bedsit, so he dropped the old wards of comfort he'd erected on his own bed and instantly felt the burden lessen, though it was still a great strain on his strength.

It was going to be impossible to stay here and his mind racked for solutions to his predicament. He would have to swallow his pride and go cap in hand to one of the people who'd offered him an insulting and demeaning position, if it meant he could find a somewhat safer place for his son. He couldn't go to Borgin and Burkes, or Slug and Jiggers the bastards. Both stores had made it quite clear they'd give Severus a job... Borgin and Burkes as a shelf stacker and floor sweeper. The payment would be the pittance the ministry allowed him to be paid, then heavily taxed for reparations on top, leaving him with a scant few galleons a week though he knew for a fact no matter what the job said on paper both would expect him to be doing the full time job of a master potioneer, whilst being paid less than cleaner. Blast...It wouldn't do though, because each would command too much of his day, at least 8 hours and knowing those wankers probably more. Though Borgin and Burke simply wanted to degrade and embarrass him, Slug and Jiggers were just being consummate Slytherins and wanted to take advantage of the laws to get a Master on staff at the price of an apprentice. Slug and Jiggers would treat him with some respect at least , and the work wouldn't be demeaning but it would take him away from his son for too long and he did not trust anyone, other than Hermione yet to know of his existence.

That first night alone he managed to avoid a total meltdown and only had a handful of middling ones. The first when he had to feed his son, and the second when he had to do his first solo nappy change. Both thankfully dissipated by Hermione's handwritten cheat sheet he'd found hidden in a pocket of the nappy bag. He'd never been so happy to see a 2 foot piece of parchment from her.

Obviously predicting that shock he was in, preventing him from taking her instructions on board, she had written down numerous basic instructions such as how to warm the milk she'd provided him, as well as the step by steps on cleaning and changing his son. There were also a few baby books shrunken in the bag, they were all muggle but he didn't care. Knowing he would not be able to sleep, he settled his son and sat down to read the first book, flicking a protection spell over it when the water dripped from his roof onto the page he was reading.

The first day of his new job he wanted to weep with shame and he did, that night behind the safety of a sound ward as his son slept on none the wiser. His whole life he had strived for greatness and worked himself to the bone to achieve his goals. He had been the youngest wizard ever to receive a potions mastery, one of the youngest ever to join the staff at hogwarts and the youngest to become head of house. The Dark Lord tainted some of those achievements for certain, but he had been good at what he had done. He had worked hard, worked often and always strived for greatness. His records spoke for themselves, no potions related fatalities, higher pass rates and better overall scores as well as Slytherin winning the house cup for countless years under his guidance.

And now he was brewing the potions for the whores at the brothel in Knockturn alley, to prevent pregnancy and sexual diseases.

The job was humiliating and debasing, the pay was barely anything at all, but they paid him for each potion so the more he could brew, the more he would make. Iin a time such as this the brothel's business at least was doing a steady stream of work. They covered the costs of the ingredients and gave him an old school grade potions set that had belonged to one of the whores and had definitely seen better days, so he was able to brew at home in his bedsit. The madam of the establishment, a Slytherin girl who'd been disowned by her family had given him his a small 'bonus' under the table and cash in hand, so he could at least pay off some of what he owed on his bedsit. He hadn't wanted a hand out , but she said she owed him that at least. He had been the only one who'd ever fought for her, and she would be dead without him. It took the sting off his pride a little. And the galleons she gave him paid off half of the rent he owed in arrears and made his imminent eviction somewhat less imminent.

As he brewed he often thought of the research he had begun in the past , the studies he wanted to do and the theories he wanted to test. He thought of the many interesting challenges out there, and he thought of a dozen methods to try out potions without silver. 100 different scenarios running through his head , as he sat cross-legged on his dirty floor, with a rusted school cauldron brewing a solution for chlamydia, with a ward to prevent his tears from ruining the brew.

He didn't sleep. He only worked and cared for his son. He didn't buy food, he only ate every other day at Hermione's and he only slept at Hermione's when his son was safely in her care.

When two weeks later he was propositioned by a client when he made his delivery to the brothel, he took the shot of brandy he was offered by the madam and made as much in an hour as he earned in half a week of brewing. He used it to pay off more of the back rent he owed, and allowed himself one day off from brewing to simply spend time reading to his son. Even if he had to scrub himself raw in with the cheap soap in the cold water of his sink, and then failing that, take a bath at Hermione's before he'd allow himself to touch his son once more. The weather was dry, so no rain leaked through the roof that night but he still made sure to waterproof the story book as read to his son. He didn't want to smudge the pages.

The next day he had an idea , while brewing a cream for genital warts and he bought an extra ingredient when he collected the apothecary order for the brothel

When rose awoke with a small wail , he jerked out of sleep so hard she worried he would damage something. He was obviously conditioned to awake on a hair trigger and Sacha jumped awake too and quickly was by her side to check on the cause of Rose's wailing. Assured it was normal crying and not because the babe was in imminent danger, he returned to lay by Severus's feet.

"Apologies-"

She waved him off before he could continue.

"Severus, I need to talk to you about something"

"Of course" He answered and she got the feeling he was still half asleep, but then after a stretch that seemed to make every one of his vertebrate crack, he interrupted her.

"Apologies, before I forget" reaching into his robe pocket he passed her...a jar of sudocrem? and she raised her eyebrow at him.

"Uh...thanks?"

He gave her a wry look then, which was so reminiscent of his teaching days she was worried he might dock house points from her.

"It's a balm. Experimental I had the idea while brewing a cream..."

He blushed then, but finished his explanation.

"It's for nappy rash, you mentioned Rose is prone to it. But Silver hasn't touched it. There's nothing harmful in it at all. I even used it on my son's and it has quickly cleared up. If she has no issues with any of the other ingredients, it should clear up quicker than with the muggle cream alone"

She smiled then, holding back her tears. She knew where he was working, knew what he was getting paid, knew this had to have come out of his own meager wages and she felt warmth spread through her as she the found the answer to the question she'd been asking herself since he first arrived at her door.

"Severus...would you like a new job?"

AN: If I lost any of my americans out there , hopefully this might help a bit

Bedsit - A cheap one room apartment / flat , usually it's one medium/large sized room where you have your bed, sofa, kitchen etc all in the same room

Settee - Sofa

Moses Basket - Bassinet

Cot - Crib

If I keep using 'local' terms that people aren't following , please drop me a note in a review and I shall try to accommodate

Also , to all of the people out there who may be sex workers or know sex workers, and may take offence at the word whore, I would never use that word in person to refer to anyone in the sex trade, but I purposely use the term 'whores' in this story, as it refers to the very backwards and old fashioned views of wizarding society, especially those that have been relegated to knockturn alley. It's meant to set an air of depression and deselation, and is used as a dramative narrative term and not intendned as an offensive one.