"Mummy! Look at my picture!"

"Auntie! Come play with us!"

"Mummy! I'm hungry!"

"Auntie! Dahlia pooed!"

"Mummy! Can Harry and me play at Robin's house?"

"Auntie...!"

"Mummy...!"

"Auntie...!"

"Mummy...!"

It was never ending. Petunia had never been happier, she told herself firmly as she sipped the "tea" Harry had made for her by dunking a teabag in warm water from the faucet. Dahlia was safe and temporarily happy on her play mat in the next room. The boys were doing a puzzle on the coffee table. She breathed deeply through her nose, enjoying the rare quiet, if not the drink. Quiet was particularly uncommon for the last few days: Sev had been absent, working on researching curse scars, and Arabella had been at some kind of cat-breeders fair. Petunia might get five minutes before one of the three needed her. It was five minutes she should probably be spending on laundry or dishes or dinner preparation or filling up and taking out the bins, but she couldn't bring herself to stand.

This work load wouldn't be forever, she reminded herself, not for the first time that morning. Severus had written to say he would be visiting again this afternoon. She could hold things together until then. Then maybe she'd ask him to take out the bins.

There were sounds of her daughter's discontented grumbling, but she didn't start screaming, so Petunia decided not to get up just yet. She heard one of the boys running up and then back down the stairs, but the foot-patter went right back to its starting point. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then, "Mummy! Dahlia poopooed, but don't worry Harry and me cleaned her up!"

"Oh, dear lord, no..." Petunia shot out of her chair and rushed to the other room. There were her children, Dahlia with a too-loose diaper cooing on her mat, Dudley staring up at her with a proud smile whilst holding out an open, smelly, soiled nappy, and Harry furiously trying to scrub a -poop stain (!) -out of the carpet with a tissue and his bare hands. His efforts only served to grind the filth more thoroughly into the weave. It was with rising panic she noticed the yellow-brown tinge to both boys' fingertips.

In through the nose, and out. A big mistake with the fresh yellow fecal matter wafting about so close. "Oh... thank you for trying to be helpful, boys, but I want you to let me handle changing her next time. I'll take that, Dudley, and you two can both go wash your hands. With lots and lots of soap."

"Yes, Mum..."

The baby screamed. Petunia had fed her, and burped her, and changed her, and played with her, and rocked her, and none of it made any difference for more than a minute or so. She'd checked for a fever too, just in case. But no. She was fine, only angry. Sometimes babies were just like that, she recalled from Dudley's early infancy, but she hadn't remembered how hard it was. Perhaps if she had... but no. Petunia had no regrets, except that the current situation made it impossible for the boys to settle down for their afternoon nap. And so Petunia had in desperation called Rachel, who agreed they could "come over to watch telly with Emma," with the ulterior motive of luring them to sleep on the couch there for at least a little bit.

There was no way Petunia could deal with three over-tired and therefore upset children all evening without tearing her hair out.

Dahlia had been screaming for no apparent reason for almost an hour by the time Sev arrived that afternoon. When he got up to the nursery where she was fruitlessly pacing, he blanched and rushed to her.

"Petunia, what's wrong?"

That was when she noticed she was crying. She averted her eyes in embarrassment. "Nothing. She's just being fussy."

"You're weeping."

She glared at him. "Yes, obviously. But it's fine. It's just baby blues. It's normal."

His penetrating eyes could see into her soul, and they didn't believe her. "I've never seen you cry before. I don't think it's n-"

"I'll decide what's normal for me, thanks very much."

He stiffened, face pinched. Hurt, perhaps. But he held out his arms. "I'll hold her for a bit. Go take a nap."

She shook her head and held Dahlia closer. "No, we have to talk about Harry while he and Dudley are next door. I won't have time later."

"Petunia, Harry is alive and happy, and whatever may or may not be going on with his past will keep. You need a break. If you don't want to nap then go have a cup of tea, or- or go on a walk."

"Don't order me about in my own house, Snape," she snapped. Christ, why was she so irritable? Well, she knew why, but why couldn't she control it?

She hadn't called him by his surname in years. He looked stricken for a moment, but his expression morphed within seconds to hard resolution. "I've found nothing in my research that would necessitate any urgent intervention for Harry, so I'm not talking about him today. Give me the baby, and go take care of yourself, Petunia."

Her lips trembled, but she didn't hand Dahlia over. That would be admitting defeat, and she couldn't do that. Not today. Not ever. She couldn't be weak, not when there were no other Evans women left to prop her up. She was the bedrock of the whole household. She couldn't break. Severus was still meeting her eyes in challenge, but something in them softened. He stepped forwards slowly and rather than reaching for Dahlia, he enfolded Petunia and screaming infant both in his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed.

He let her cry for a long minute before gently taking the baby from her unresisting hands. He guided her to her own room and nudged her towards the bed, then took Dahlia back out and shut the door behind him. He must have spelled the door for silence, because both the sounds of screaming and of his footsteps instantly and totally cut off. Part of her wanted to immediately go after him to make sure he wasn't using magic on her baby, but the greater part of her was, in fact, supremely tired of being yelled at. So she sat on the bed and collected herself for a few minutes. When her breathing was no longer ragged, she got up to blow her nose and apply a little powder before facing the world again.

Miraculously, it was now quiet outside the door as well. She glanced in the nursery, but Severus wasn't there. She went downstairs, looking through all the doorways, until she finally spotted them in the back yard. Severus was sitting on the bench, supporting Dahlia on his knees, and she was staring at him in fascination.

"That isn't fair," she commented drily. "Do you know how long I've been trying to get her to calm?"

He shrugged without looking up. "Perhaps she could sense your distress."

"Nonsense. She's too young."

"Too young to understand the wherefores, perhaps not too young to recognize when the person who is most important in her entire world is upset, no matter if they try to hide it." She blushed, having the distinct feeling he meant more than his words.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she said awkwardly.

Finally, he looked up and smirked slightly. "Well, as our entire relationship is predicated on you taking pity on me when I showed up in tears on your doorstep, I don't think you should be embarrassed."

She snorted. "Good point."

"So. Baby blues?"

"It's normal."

"So you said. I've never heard of it before."

She shrugged. "A lot of women have mood changes after giving birth. It's just part of the process."

"Hmm. 'Normal' isn't the same as 'just ignore it.'"

"I'm not ignoring it. I'm just working through it."

He raised an eyebrow. "And that's what I was doing with the horrific depression I faced after Lily died and while my mother was ill. In retrospect, I really wasn't actually fine, and Minerva had to tell me off for trying to work through it when I wasn't coping well. I really was a horror to the students."

"Aren't you still?" she quipped weakly.

He smiled. "Sometimes, but only when they actually deserve it. I try not to take my personal frustrations out on them any more. Sometimes it's hard. I didn't realize how awful I was those first few years until recently. Didn't care either, to be honest. Dumbledore should never have hired me, probably wouldn't have if not for the war. It didn't take much to set me off, and I felt not an ounce of shame about it at the time. It's what happens when you live in your own head and let the whole world be your enemy. I resented anyone trying to be nice to me almost as much as the students deliberately baiting me."

She groaned. That's what she was doing. "Sorry I was snippy with you earlier. I've been cross with Vernon on and off too. He's been tiptoeing around me. I hope I haven't been that way to the boys without noticing."

He nodded acceptance of her apology, then scooped Dahlia up with his hands. Her eyes widened and arms flailed at the sudden movement. "I might have managed to calm her down, but she's probably getting hungry and will be ticked off again soon if we don't do something about it."

"I'll take her, see if she eats," Petunia said instantly.

"Good. Anything you want me to do? Tea? Cleaning? Errands?"

"Tea would be lovely. And if you could magic away the horrible stain in the living room carpet, I'd be very grateful... oh, dear."

"Yes?"

"You might be right about the children picking up on my moods," she admitted with a sigh, even as she hefted Dahlia. "Harry and Dudley today were trying to be helpful, like you just now. They failed miserably mind you, but they were trying."

"Ah. Is that where the offending stain comes from?"

"Got it in one."

"I'll take care of it."

Author's note: so yes, the postpartum depression is a thing. But I'm not in the business of tormenting Petunia in this story, so hers will be a mild case. Thanks for the reviews!