V

This is based on the Surrogate Mother Challenge on WIKTT. For full description of this challenge, please see the author's notes at the end of the first chapter.

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I do not own any of the characters or things in Ms. Rowling's wonderful universe, although I would really love if she could send me a Time Turner!

Special thanks to my beta Southern_Witch_69, and to my wonderful muse, Meredith!

Every morning when Hermione woke, she would find Professor Snape and her breakfast waiting for her in the sitting room. After the first day, however, Professor Snape merely set the vitamin potion on the tray and would watch as Hermione downed it quickly, followed by a large swig of pumpkin juice. After that, he would leave her in peace to eat. Apparently though, the house-elves had been instructed to not take the tray unless Hermione had finished eating everything. She could've sworn that they gave him a daily report of her actual food intake.

"Good morning, sir," Hermione said when she exited her bedroom nearly two weeks after first arriving to live in the dungeons of Hogwarts.

She only received a slight nod in reply.

"You know I haven't spoken to anyone for days, yet you avoid me as if I were a Chimaera. The very least you could do is hold a normal conversation with me once in a while!" The pent up frustration that Hermione had been feeling since her arrival began pouring out of her. She was thankful that, in this case, her frustrations were being vented upon the proper target.

"I am not what one would call a morning person, Miss Granger," he replied without looking up from his newspaper.

"You're not an any time of day person." Although she muttered this comment to herself, she could have sworn she saw a slight smirk flash on his face for a moment. Buttering her crumpet, she tried once again to start a conversation. "I think there is something wrong with my shower."

"Hmmmm" he grumbled, while giving his full attention to the morning edition of the Daily Prophet.

Well, he's not yelling at me. "I am assuming that there wasn't a bathroom there until just prior to me moving in. Is that correct?"

Severus slammed his newspaper down and glared at her. "I presume that there is a point to this conversation, Miss Granger," he spat out through gritted teeth.

"Yes, sir," she replied. She allowed herself the pleasure of a small smile

Eyeing her closely, he answered. "Yes, Miss Granger, you are correct. The bathroom is new."

"Well, it just seems odd to me, sir. I think that there must have been some mistake made by whoever did the magic to put it there." She was speaking in a sly and curious manner. She did not want to risk accusing him; that could always be dangerous.

"Out with it, Miss Granger! I am not going to spend my entire day discussing a bathroom with you!" His hands were now folded together and rested on the table, seeming to steady him from the onslaught of questions that were now being fired at him. He glared intently into her large brown eyes.

Hermione met his gaze with her own hard stare. "Of course not, sir. My problem is that whenever I take a shower it begins pleasantly hot, but it shortly becomes ice cold."

In his most condescending tone, he responded, "Apparently you are not aware of it, Miss Granger, but this is a very old castle, and the pipes predate Muggle plumbing by centuries. It should not be surprising that the shower in a magically transfigured room, using pipes that were required to move themselves from where they had set for ages, suddenly does not hold the appropriate temperature as well as the rest of the pipes in the castle." He began to rub his temples with his long pale fingers to fight the headache that this pointless discussion was earning him. "I suggest, Miss Granger, that you learn to take shorter showers," he said in silky cold tones.

Hermione watched him as she continued to eat her meal. This is the longest I have actually gotten him to stay for breakfast! Score one point for Granger.

"Now, if that is everything, Miss Granger..." he began while standing.

"No, sir, that is not everything." She hitched up her breath, steadying herself against the new onslaught of insults her next statement was going to earn her, and she said, "Professor, I am bored."

"I am not your babysitter, Miss Granger. I was generous enough to give you a room full of books to keep you occupied!" This was stupid. He knew that she would become demanding sooner or later. Inwardly, he was actually impressed that she had kept quiet for as long as she had.

"Oh, yes! A room full of books to keep me out of your greasy hair, Professor," she spat with a smirk that could rival his. "I'm sorry to say, sir, that they were not enough to keep me occupied. The majority of those books are copies of what Madam Pince has in the library upstairs, and in my seven-year stay here as a student of this school, I read every book she has in there. Besides, did you forget where I worked? What do you think I did when I wasn't busy while working at Flourish & Blotts?"

"Touché, Her...Miss Granger," answered the Professor with slight sneer. "However, you seem to be forgetting that I have not shackled you to the dungeons...yet. You are free to wander about the school."

"I am aware of that. Nevertheless, you told me that there are still Death Eater spawn roaming the halls and to be careful," she countered.

He considered her for a moment. "Yes, that is true." He knew she was right; he had been silently pleased that she had not taken to wandering the halls at her leisure and risking his child to prejudiced teens. So far he had not heard many comments from the students regarding Hermione. A few concealed murmurs and hushed whispers, yes, but that was the worst of it. Then again, it was still very early in her pregnancy, and there were only a few rumors flying about regarding the reasons that she was staying at the castle.

"I realize that you are busy and that you would prefer to spend as little time around me as possible, sir, but if you could perhaps set up a time when I could visit some of the other teachers or something..." She was faltering. In this one instance, she was purely counting on the fact that he couldn't possibly be the monster that Ron and Harry had always claimed that he was.

Hermione knew that he could argue that she ate both her noon and evening meals in the Great Hall per his orders. In this case, though, it was true that there were several people that she was acquainted with, yet she was still alone. She was forced to sit by herself at the end of the long Head Table in a place that was reserved for visitors, spouses, and apprentices. Well, Hogwarts rarely had visitors. Most of the spouses didn't live at the school, and none of the current professors had apprentices. This left her with the small inconvenience of being separated by several empty chairs, and then by professors that were new to their positions in the last few years. The nearest professor to her that she even knew by name was the headmaster, and he was so old that Hermione was certain he wouldn't even be able to hear her. What had the Ministry thinking when they appointed that man as the headmaster? Hermione had found herself thinking on frequent occasions.

Professor Snape rose from his chair, pulling her away from her thoughts. "Very well, Miss Granger, I will see to it that you have an escort following your noon meals to take you where ever it is that you wish to go."

He strode towards the door that went to his office while Hermione congratulated herself. That was definitely a victory.

The professor stopped as he opened the door to his office. "Quit congratulating yourself, Miss Granger. It is most unseemly." Before he snapped the door closed, he paused once more to say, "Drink the vitamin potion!"

Begrudgingly, Hermione gulped down the accursed potion, thankful that for once he actually trusted her to drink it herself without watching her as if she were a toddler.

That afternoon, following a very filling meal, Neville Longbottom approached Hermione just as she was rising to exit the hall. She had honestly expected Professor Snape to conveniently forget the promise he had made earlier that morning.

"Hi, Hermione," Neville said tentatively. "Would it be okay...I mean, would you like to take a walk with me?"

Hermione beamed at Neville while shooting a quick glance at Professor Snape who looked away as soon as her eyes set on him. "I would like that, Neville. Thank you."

They walked out the staff door off to the side and wound their way through the rooms to the entrance. Soon Hermione found herself outside breathing the fresh air. "I'm so thankful that it's still reasonably warm today," she said as she let all of her worries and frustrations flow out of her exhale. "I don't think that I could have stood another day down there by myself."

Neville looked at her oddly as they began to walk down near the lake. "Ummm, Hermione..."

She interrupted him before he could ask his question. She knew it was coming, but wanted to put it off as long as possible. "So, Neville, I knew you were teaching. I just never see you at the meals. Why is that?"

She watched Neville as he regained his footing over her manipulating the direction of the conversation. He was still the shy, timid boy that stuttered and stammered all through school. However, thanks to Herbology and the D.A. meetings from their fifth year, Neville had begun to find his confidence. Apparently, though, that was where his confidence still remained.

"Oh, yeah, well, I mostly spend my time in the greenhouses." He stopped briefly to watch her reaction. "You know, like how Trelawney used to stay up in the tower all of the time?" Hermione nodded. "Well, I spend all of my time in the greenhouses."

"But, don't you get lonely, Neville?"

He smiled at her. "No, I have my plants. You know, the Mimbulus mimbletonia is almost like a person itself," he said excitedly. His round face lit up with pleasure at the mention of his beloved plant.

Hermione couldn't help thinking that Neville had really begun to almost act like Professor Trelawney in his excited manner about his subject. He thinks of his plants as if they are his friends, she thought with amusement.

"So, what brought you to the noon meal today, Neville?" she asked.

"P-professor Snape," he stammered out. Hermione began to see the small school boy in him as he stuttered through the professor's name.

Hermione had a difficult time resisting an eye roll. Neville is now Snape's colleague, and he still acts like a frightened first year! "Okay, so why is this the first time that I've seen you since I've been here, Neville?"

"P-professor Snape."

Hermione laughed. It wasn't anything that she could hold in. The great bat had intimidated her friend into not speaking with her when she first arrived, and now he had intimidated Neville into taking her for walk. "I'm sorry, Neville," she said when she saw his blushing face. "I'm really not laughing at you. I'm laughing at Professor Snape." Neville seemed to relax a little when she said that. "I just can't believe that you still allow him to bully you like that. You know, he can't give you detention anymore. You really need to learn to stand up to him," she said in her normal bossy tones.

"I can't, Hermione. That man is scary. No matter what I do, he still treats me like I'm one of his students."

"I'm sorry, Neville. You know, you really were sorted into Gryffindor. I've seen your courage. You can do anything that you need to," she said encouragingly while placing a hand on his back for comfort.

"Hermione," he said. "Why are you back at Hogwarts?" He didn't meet her eyes when he asked his question.

"What have you heard, Neville?" Hermione knew that the rumors were running rampant throughout the school, mostly because Snape refused to say anything to anyone. As far as Hermione was aware, Professor Tofty knew more about her and Snape's current situation than anyone else.

"Ummm, well. The best I heard was that you and Snape were both strongly... ummmm...intoxicated one night at The Old Crones, and you hooked up. Then Snape got you, er...pregnant, and now you have to live at the castle." Hermione looked at him uneasily. As far as stories go, it wasn't too terrible. In some ways, Hermione wished that particular rumor was the truth instead of what she was faced with; except for the main point, though, because there was no way in Hades that she would ever shag Snape. She shuddered at the mere thought.

"Okay," she said. "What's the worst that they are saying?"

Neville began shifting between his left and right feet and staring down at his toes of his shoes, which were just barely visible from beneath his long brown robes. "Well, Hermione, they are saying that...that you are nothing more than a, ummmm, than a prostitute." The last word was so quiet that Hermione barely heard it, but she knew what Neville was going to say.

It was to be expected, she told herself.

"So," Neville continued, "they are saying that you are only living with Snape because he was ordered to get shagged on a regular schedule to keep from biting off the heads of the younger students."

Hermione began laughing at the absurdity. The worst of it being that there was a little bit of truth in both sordid tales. At Hermione's laughter, Neville visibly began to relax again. It was obvious that he took her laughter as a sign that the rumors were indeed false, and he believed that there must be some other reason for her stay at Hogwarts.

He smiled at her. "So, why are you here, Hermione?"

"Sorry, Neville," she said while wiping a tear from her eye. Still smiling, she sucked in her breath and told him. She told him about the pregnancy, she told him about the living arrangements, she told him that Snape was a complete arse, and that she was now, obviously, being told how to spend her afternoons since the 'dear professor' was going to set up her dates for her. Per her agreement with Snape, the only detail she left out was the maternity of the embryo.

"So, how many weeks are you, Hermione?" asked Neville once he was finally able to find his tongue.

"Six. Only about 34 weeks left in this living hell," replied Hermione. The disgust was clearly present in her voice.

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

"It's all right. I'll enjoy the time that I'm here, even if most of my time is spent with that bat."

"If you need anything, Hermione, just ask...okay?"

"Sure thing, Neville. Sure thing.

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"I trust that Professor Longbottom was sufficient company this afternoon?" inquired Professor Snape that evening. Typically he spent the evenings in his office marking essays. Tonight, however, Professor Snape took his grading into his quarters and sat at the dinning table while Hermione sat on the sofa reading.

"Yes, he was," she replied. She set her book down and looked at him. He had been sitting in the room now for over an hour furiously scratching on each poor student's assignments. Hermione felt small pangs of pity for the children that he was taking his frustrations out on.

"Thank you, Severus," was all she could manage to say.

He was obviously taken aback by her sudden casual tone, and the use of his given name did not go unnoticed. However, the chastising that Hermione had braced herself for never came. Another point for me, she thought.

"You are welcome, Mi...Hermione. Tomorrow, Professor Flitwick will collect you from the Great Hall. He seems most anxious to share with you some new techniques in Charms."

Hermione's face lit up with excitement. "Thank you."

He did not respond. He merely went back to marking the essays, but Hermione could almost swear that the feverish scratching of the red-inked quill had calmed, at least a little.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After nearly a month of living in cramped and tight quarters with the annoying Gryffindor, Severus was beginning to see a noticeable difference in Hermione. Not that he thought he could ever tell a difference in her emotional stability. In Severus' opinion, all women were emotionally unstable and were constantly prone to sudden outbursts. Be they outbursts of anger, screaming, tears, or mushy proclamations of love. No matter what they were, Severus wanted no part of them.

He was beginning to become concerned about her, however. Since ensuring that she had adequate company during the last two weeks, she was suddenly becoming withdrawn. Then today, she had yet to come in to join him for breakfast. It was nearly eight o'clock, and Hermione had not been seen. She was usually in the sitting room chatting away sometime around seven.

Severus cursed himself when he realized that Hermione had won. About two weeks ago, she had coaxed Severus into some form of conversation in the mornings, and he had wound up spending most mornings breakfasting with her before he went up to the Great Hall to make an appearance, since. However, Severus did insist that the only reason that he now marked his student's assignments in his chambers was because his office was too cold. He had moved a small writing desk into his sitting room and had begun doing his evening work while Hermione sat by the fire reading.

"Miss Granger," he called whilst rapping on the door to her bedroom. After no reply, he opened the door. He looked quickly around the room and did not see her in there. He then headed towards to the bathroom. In the perfectly tiled white bathroom sat a lump on the floor. She was nothing but a disheveled mess. That ruddy hair sticks out everywhere!

"Hermione, what is your problem?" he snapped. He did not have time for anything more this morning. He had already wasted the last hour of his time waiting for her to arrive at the table for breakfast. Her head was buried in her hands. He could barely hear her mumble into her hands.

"Go away."

He walked forward and loomed over her. "Get up, Hermione."

She brought her hands to her temples. "I can't. Please, just go away."

Severus could feel his temper rising quickly at her show of weakness. He took a quick breath and sighed. "How long have you been sitting on the floor this morning?"

"Over an hour, but if I try to get up, I become ill."

"Well, Mi...Hermione you need to get up and get something in your stomach. Otherwise you will succeed in nothing other than spending the entire day on the floor of the bathroom." He maintained his demanding stance and voice of control. He knew she would have no choice but to respond to him that way.

After several minutes of no response from her, however, he held out a hand and said, "Please, Hermione, get up. By this point you are likely dehydrated. You will not feel better unless you get some fluid back into your system."

Hermione silently nodded. She pulled her dressing gown tightly around her, took his hand, and allowed him to pull her up to lead her into the sitting room. She willed herself not to be sick on the short journey to the dining table.

Severus maintained his commanding presence and stood over Hermione as he directed her to drink a cup of lemon tea. Once she seemed somewhat settled, he pulled out the vitamin potion and gave it to her. Hermione peered up at him horrified. "We have been through this before! I am not trying to poison you! Just drink it!"

Hermione's anger rose quickly. "I won't be able to keep that down! I'm not taking that this morning!" she spat. "Maybe with the noon meal or maybe with supper, but definitely not now!"

"I have classes in ten minutes, Miss Granger. I do not need anything else wasting my time this morning. Now, you will drink the vitamin potion so that I can deal with the rest of my life that does not revolve around you!" His dark eyes seemed like they were attempting to bore holes within her head. Hermione met his gaze with her own piercing stare. After a few moments, she gave up. Following a morning of retching, she did not possess the energy to fight with him. Lemon tea with a little bit of honey did very little for providing the body with much needed calories.

"Fine," she mumbled. She took the potion and downed the contents quickly. Promptly, Hermione vomited the remainder of her stomach's contents all over the front of Professor Snape's teaching robes and onto the tips of his black boots.

A/N: Before I get flames from people trying to do the "math" on Hermione's pregnancy...Yes, I realize that at the time that she tells Neville she is "6 weeks" pregnant, per the story she is 4 weeks post conception. This is normal. It's like a two week grace period, if you want to call it that. 40 weeks gestation is truly 38 weeks of pregnancy. Confusing enough for you? ;-)