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*Please be aware of the character death warning for this chapter.*

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 looked in the mirror this morning and was stunned to discover that I am not JK Rowling. Shocking, I know.

Special thanks to my beta, Southern_Witch_69, who puts up with an amazing amount of garbage from me. She truly is priceless! And, of course, thanks go to Meredith.

Hermione remained curled up in the armchair, a small pile of opened packages sitting on the floor in front of her. She could barely bring herself to look up at the man that was so intent on pushing her away and ignoring her. What the bloody hell is the matter with him? After the two thoughtful gifts that she had received over the last few weeks, she thought that he was reaching out, attempting to make amends for his surly nature. However, the moment that she reaches out to him...he's a frustrating, miserable wanker!

She looked at the gifts that she had received from her friends. Mrs. Weasley had sent the typical mince pies and an emerald green jumper. Hermione swore that it was large enough in the middle to hold three people. From Ginny, she received a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate. The girl definitely knew what Hermione needed. Ron had sent her vanilla and cinnamon scented body lotion. She was quite certain that it was his version of a peace offering.

She had two packages left unopened in her lap. One was wrapped eloquently in simple silver wrap, the other in plain brown paper. She knew the one in silver was from Severus. The brown-papered wrap was not marked and wrapped in the same fashion as the other anonymous gifts that she had received. Also from Severus, she thought while hiding the amused smirk from her face. Hermione was not certain that she wished to open either of these in front of him. She glanced up at him and saw him staring intently at the open box in his lap. His eyes met hers. "What is this supposed to be?" he asked.

"It's a wood carving set," she replied simply.

"A wood carving set," he repeated. He did not even try to hide the disgust dripping from his voice as he continued to look at her.

"Yes, to carve wood," she said sarcastically. Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you don't like it, then fine. I just thought..." Her voice trailed off. There was no point. If the man didn't want it, then it didn't matter.

"You just thought what, Hermione? This looks like it's been used before! What sort of gift is this?"

She rose to her feet, nearly dropping the two packages that had been sitting on her lap. She tossed them both down in the chair haphazardly and stepped towards the man that was currently fueling her anger. "I just thought that since you were so intent on playing the role of father that I would try to give you something that I thought was fatherly! If you don't want it, FINE! I'll gladly take it back!" She reached for the box that sat in his lap, but before she could reach it, he snapped the lid closed and held it out of her reach.

His black eyes watched her fury grow. She was obviously quite passionate about the gift, and that piqued his curiosity. "Fatherly, you say? Where did you get it?" he asked calmly with a small show of interest.

She calmed slightly at his words. Well, calmed enough to prevent her from ripping the ruddy box out of his ungrateful hands anyway. "Yes, fatherly! If you must know, I picked it up from my vault at Gringotts. I'm sorry it's not new if that's so bloody important to you! I'll take it back and give you something simple, like silk handkerchiefs or a book." She held out her hand to accept the box back from him.

Severus stared at her for several minutes and slowly mulled over the words that she had thrown at him. He carefully opened the box again, out of the reach of her outstretched hand, and examined the contents more carefully. He was not certain what each piece was specifically designed for, but he looked at each in turn. He could see that some were used for shaving and smoothing, two pieces that looked like chisels, one larger than the other. The remaining items were either u-shaped or v-shaped in a variety of sizes and looked as if they were used for applying intricate design and detail to the yielding wood. The instruments were well cared for; he would almost say that they were loved. He carefully closed the lid again and placed it on his lap. He quietly regarded the girl still standing in front of him, glaring daggers. He realized that it must have been hard for her to part with the gift in the first place.

Severus broke the silence. "I apologize, Hermione. It is a very thoughtful gift." He regarded her as she dropped her arms down to her sides, though the girl still looked braced for another scathing remark. "It belonged to your father, did it not?" he asked.

"Yes, it did. It was in the shed; it was not consumed by the fire."

He nodded his understanding and silently regarded Hermione as she relaxed and stepped back to her armchair, carefully picking up the discarded packages. He abruptly tore his eyes away and began staring into the consuming flames of the fire.

She again looked at him cautiously as she settled in to attend to the boxes in her hands. She could almost see the gears whirling in his mind as he sat there with his arms resting casually on both arms of the chair. She picked up the brown paper wrapped package and opened it. A smile crossed her lips as she ran her hands down the cover of the small leather bound book. It had a small emerald in the shape of diamond embedded on the cover. The lettering on the front was in gold-leaf and read: Hermione Jane Granger. She thumbed through the blank book. On the inside front cover was a printed inscription:

For your thoughts while you go through this emotional and life-changing event. December 2002

She closed the book with a smile playing about her mouth. It was truly one of the most thoughtful things that anyone had ever done for her. She looked up at the man in front of her; her anger completely dissipated, and she smiled genuinely, saying nothing. If he wishes to remain anonymous about his thoughtfulness, then so be it. Hermione then turned her attention to her final package. This one, at least, was admittedly from Severus.

She carefully opened the silver wrapped box and lifted the lid. There were two items. The first was a necklace. She carefully lifted it out of the box. It was a simple, thin, silver chain with a small pendant in the shape of a butterfly. She had to examine it carefully to discern the stone, but she realized quickly that it was jade. It was an intricately hand-carved piece with tiny rubies on the antennae and diamonds down the center. She carefully set it back in the box and turned her interests to the second item. It was a small crystal phial with a small tag tied around it that read: Do Not Drink. She picked it up and looked at the contents closely. It was a transparent, reddish substance...not something she readily recognized. She looked at the man sitting across from her. "Severus, what is this?" she asked holding the phial up so that he could see it.

His facial expression remained blank, giving nothing away to the thoughts that were swirling behind the mask. "It is a potion," he replied, voice dripping in sarcasm.

"I can see that," she replied in exasperation. God, he's impossible sometimes! "It says not to drink it. What am I supposed to do with it then?"

"You are supposed to put it in the pockets of your robes that you will be wearing when we go traveling this afternoon," he said in a voice that indicated he was speaking to a three-year-old child.

Hermione quirked a questioning eyebrow at him, but she said nothing. Since when were we planning on going anywhere this afternoon? Obviously, he was not going to tell her a bloody thing until he was damn well ready.

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They had spent the midday meal in the Great Hall for the Christmas feast with the few professors and students that had remained for the holidays. It had been a quiet, almost somber affair. Hermione remembered the few occasions during her school days when she had spent her Christmas holidays at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore had made them cheery and memorable. These were quiet. There were no Christmas crackers, no games, no cheer. Hermione had looked to Professor Flitwick in silent inquiry at the nature of the dismal feast, and he had smiled pleasantly while patting her hand and whispering that things would be much better the following year when he was the headmaster.

Now, it was nearly five o'clock, and Severus had just announced that it was time to leave. Hermione quickly grabbed her traveling cloak, which contained the small phial that he had given her that morning. "Please tell me that we are traveling some way other than by Portkey," she stated, with a slight bit of pleading in her voice.

"We are traveling by Portkey, Hermione, because it is the safest way for someone in your condition to travel," Severus drawled.

She rolled her eyes as she held out her hand to touch whatever object he'd charmed this time. The ruddy git still hasn't told me where we're going! I wonder if this is his way of surprising someone! Hermione closed her eyes as she felt the all too familiar tug at her navel, and the world began spinning around her. When she was certain that she was not going to lose her last meal all over said git, she slowly opened her eyes. She was momentarily confused by her surroundings. She was in a room full of people, most appeared to be suffering from a wide variety of jinxes or hexes. She looked up in surprise at Severus as he took her hand and began to lead her towards the stairs. He quickly dropped her hand once they began ascending the stairs.

"Why did you bring me to St. Mungo's?" she asked.

"You have someone to call upon," he stated.

She looked at him curiously as they began to traverse the stairs. They stopped at the fourth floor. Fourth floor, Spell Damage, remembered Hermione silently as she followed him through the doors of the stairwell. The last time she had been here was on Christmas during her fifth year. That day the whole lot of them had accidentally wound up visiting the befuddled Professor Lockhart. Today, Hermione and Severus walked past the Janus Thickey Ward where he'd been and continued down the corridor to another one. Outside of ward fifty-two, Severus took her hand, once again, and turned her towards him.

"She is not well, Hermione. However, I know that speaking with you is something that she desperately wishes to do. Just as I see that it may ease your burdens to speak with someone that you consider to be a mentor." Severus reached into the pocket of her traveling cloak and pulled out the phial. "You must give her the entire bottle. She does not like it, but she will drink it. After a few minutes, she will become lucid. It will last approximately one hour." Severus placed the phial carefully in her hands, closing her fingers tightly around it. "The Healer cannot see this," he hissed in her ear.

Hermione nodded carefully, as she realized who she was going to be meeting.

"I will be back to collect you in nearly an hour." He began to walk back towards the stairwell and was nearly there when he turned again. "And, Hermione...tell her anything you wish." His eyes widened as if to stress his words.

A thousand questions swirled through Hermione's mind. She wanted to know about the potion that was safely hidden in her hand and what exactly had happened to put her mentor in a critical care unit at St. Mungo's.

She carefully opened the door to the ward. It was quiet, and she closed the door carefully behind her. A small, round woman rose from a desk near the door, upon her arrival, waddling over to meet Hermione. "I'm Healer Astley. Who are you here for, dear?"

Hermione looked around the dimly lit room. There were beds lining each wall. She quickly noted that the majority of the beds were empty. How am I supposed to slip her the potion and have her talk in such a quiet dismal place? Hermione spied her target at the far end of the room, back in the corner. "I'm here to see Minerva McGonagall," she said quietly, nodding towards her old professor.

The Healer smiled as she led Hermione towards Professor McGonagall's bed. "Oh, that's wonderful, dear. I so hoped someone would come along and visit her today." Hermione had to fight the tears when she saw her. The once vibrant woman simply sat lifelessly upon the bed. Her open eyes were staring unblinkingly at the blank wall in front of her. She was dressed in a dusty rose dressing gown and had a ghostly pale complexion with a shockingly hollow face. The hair that Hermione had remembered as being so neat and tightly tamed was now gray, brittle, and limp. To the average Muggle, the elderly woman appeared every bit of her 77 years.

"Minerva, dear, you have a visitor!" yelled Healer Astley as she roughly patted the bed coverings. Turning to Hermione, she said, "I don't know why I bother. She mumbles sometimes, but it's not like she really has any idea what's going on anymore. She's just here awaiting death...they all are in this ward. Sad really. Death can be a right pain in the arse when he wants to be. Never comes when you're waiting for it. Always shows up right when you're in the middle of something. Ahhh, well, no use crying over spilt potions. Nothing to be done about it. I'll give you some privacy, go up and get me some supper or the like. It's not like any of the rest of these blokes are going anywhere fast."

Hermione stood there feeling numb. Her immediate desire had been to punch the woman for her crass insensitivity. On the other hand, she was grateful that the annoying biddy was leaving her alone with McGonagall for a time. She opted for keeping her mouth shut for the time being while making a mental note to give the horrid Healer a piece of her mind before she left. As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Hermione checked to make certain that she was the only one not catatonic in the room.

She opened her hand and spoke to the woman in the bed. "Professor McGonagall, it's me, Hermione Granger. I need you to drink this," she said as she held the now opened phial up to her lips. Hermione jumped as Minerva turned her head away from the proffered drink. "Please," urged Hermione. "It's from Professor Snape." The elderly woman calmed and accepted the phial to her lips.

After the potion was consumed, Professor McGonagall's eyes drifted closed, and she collapsed onto the bed. Hermione sat down on a chair by the side of the bed and waited. After several minutes, the woman in the bed began to stir.

"Professor?" she asked hesitantly.

"Please, get me some water," the raspy voice responded.

Hermione complied, conjuring a glass of water with her wand and presenting it to the frail patient. After several swallows, the woman spoke again. "Thank you, child. Severus told me that he would try to bring you by for a visit."

"Professor, what is going on? Why are you here like this? What was that potion? What's the matter?"

The old woman opened her eyes and smiled at the inquisitive former student seated in front of her. "Hermione, do you mean to tell me that Severus told you nothing before bringing you here?"

She sat there dumbly and shook her head. "He never once told me where we were going or whom I was going to be seeing. I only deduced the whom portion of the equation when I was just outside of the ward. Until then, I didn't even know what the phial was that he so thoughtfully presented to me as a Christmas gift."

"Are you telling me that he gave you the potion as a Christmas gift?" Minerva asked in a disgusted tone. "That arrogant Slytherin! You would think that he would be a little more generous to the mother of his child."

Hermione chuckled; it was nice to hear someone speak on her behalf. She was rather surprised, however, when she realized that her mentor had just acknowledged her as the mother of the child she was carrying. "Professor, what has Severus told you about the child?" she asked carefully.

"It's Minerva, my dear, and Severus has kept me abreast of everything, as far as I know." She rested her eyes again. "Now, I wish to know your intentions towards him and that child that you are carrying," came the old woman's voice calmly.

Hermione sat back in the chair and tried to relax, weaving her hands along her slightly protruding abdomen. Professor McGonagall always was rather direct, she mused. "My intentions are to give him exactly what he has asked for. I cannot hope or expect for anything more in return."

The frail looking woman quirked a small smile and opened her eyes again. "What do you think that he wants, Hermione?"

"That's easy. He wants me to carry a child for him, give it up to him freely, and leave his life just as quickly and as quietly as I entered it. He is going to quit teaching and hide himself away...keeping everyone and everything out of his and my child's life," answered the younger witch in bitter tones.

"Do you honestly believe that you have had no impact on his life?" asked the professor in an amused voice. "Do you think that you entered his life in a quiet manner and can leave just as quietly?"

Hermione was stunned by this. She had never really thought about the impact she had made on the elusive Potions master. She pondered the implications of this before she answered. "I guess that I never really thought about it before," she finally answered truthfully. "Most of the time, I get the impression that he can't wait for me to be gone, but other times I find myself wishing that I had learned Legilimency."

Minerva laughed again. "He truly can be an enigma. What is it that he's done to confuse you, my dear?" Hermione could almost swear that she saw a small twinkle in the elder witch's eyes.

Hermione sat herself up straight, as she had begun to fidget in her chair. She moved one hand to her neck and pulled at the chain that was attached, revealing the small charm she had received that morning. "Well, there was this. He gave this to me for Christmas." Her cheeks reddened, but she knew she could explain it without being thought of as silly. "I know that jade can mean several different things, but it is often a gift indicating love or the union of souls while butterflies are representative of a transformation."

Minerva sat up and leaned in to examine the jade trinket carefully. "Well, thank heaven for that," she muttered. "I was afraid that the ruddy arse only gave you my draught for Christmas. It is quite lovely." She smiled reassuringly. "As to the meaning, knowing Severus the way that I do, I think that he is more secretive than that. There is an old legend about a butterfly that says that if you have a secret wish, capture a butterfly, and whisper your wish to it. Since butterflies cannot speak, your secret is ever safe in their keeping. Release the butterfly, and it will carry your wish to God...who alone knows the thoughts of butterflies. By setting the butterfly free, you are helping to restore the balance of nature, and your wish will surely be granted." Minerva appeared lost in thought for a few moments. "Ah well, maybe that is too sappy for a Slytherin," she said in retrospect as she let the charm drop back onto Hermione's neck. "Nonetheless, I like the story, and a few wishes would not go amiss," she said with a wink.

"I think it is lovely, too. It was just rather unexpected that he'd give it to me openly, especially after the way he handled the other gifts." She thought about the legend. "Maybe a few wishes would not be amiss," Hermione echoed softly.

"Other gifts?"

"Well, yes, I've received three gifts over the last month. They come by Owl Post and are anonymous. Chocolate, first, and next, I received a beautiful quill with an emerald encased within. Then, this morning, I received a journal. It is obviously the mate to the quill and was just so perfect."

Minerva was quiet for a few moments. "Hermione, dear...that does not sound like Severus." She took a deep breath and sighed. "You must think; he is a Slytherin. What Slytherin do you know that does not want credit for something that they have done? He hasn't mentioned this to me at all."

Hermione felt almost chided by the elder witch. She sat dumbstruck by her mentor's frankness. She truly had never thought of it that way. But, didn't Severus send that letter to Ginny anonymously? she reasoned with herself. Yes, but that was purely selfish on his part. She didn't even have time to attempt to figure out who else would have spent the time and energy to send her such things.

This sudden realization left her wondering one other important thing. She had come to a point where she thought that he was beginning to have feelings for her. Had she imagined all of that? Hermione was more confused now than she ever had been before.

"Oh, come now. Don't fret. I've known Severus for a very long time, and although I really don't know what he's thinking or feeling right now, I can say with all certainty that he wouldn't ask just anyone to be the mother of his child."

"What has he told you about that, Minerva?" asked Hermione.

The old woman smiled and closed her eyes, again resting her head back on the pillow. She was becoming very tired again. "I know that the child in which you are carrying is truly yours and that you will be forced to deny the child. I know that you were in no position to argue his terms, and once you deliver, Severus will disappear to go live a solitary life raising his son."

Tears began to glisten in Hermione's brown eyes. "Son?" she heard herself asking.

"Well, that should be of no surprise to you. Severus already thinks of the child as a son. I take it from your question that you have not taken the draught that detects the gender?" She opened her eyes again and watched the young witch as she shook her head. A sly smirk grew on Minerva's face as she asked, "What do you desire, Hermione...a boy or a girl?"

"I, well..." Hermione stammered. She had not really admitted her desires to anyone. Somehow admitting that she thought of the baby often and of dressing her in pink robes was the same as admitting that she desperately wanted to be a real mother to her child. Hermione felt a thin, wrinkled hand squeeze her own. She closed her eyes and recited the vision that had been plaguing her for weeks. "I never realized how small a newborn was before. She is so tiny as she rests in the crook of my arm. Her skin is creamy white, and she has beautiful black eyes, onyx, like her father's. Her smooth locks of curly, black hair frame her angelic face. I sit in the armchair by the fire and hold her each night as I calm her to sleep while reading to her."

"What is her name?"

"Diana Grace," answered Hermione without thinking. Where did that come from?

"It's quite alright, child. I won't tell anyone," said the professor in grandmotherly tones while lightly squeezing her hand again. "I just wanted to know how you really felt about the baby. It is quite obvious to me that you care for her greatly." She paused as she took a slow ragged breath. Her energy was waning. "I am so pleased by that Hermione. I would worry if you didn't care. The only thing left is the small matter of your feelings for the father."

Suddenly, the room began to feel very small to Hermione. She had to stand up and begin pacing in small circles to be able to feel like she had any control.

"I know you're not comfortable with this, Hermione, but you really need to look at this from another perspective. I love Severus like he was my own son. I want what is best for him, and there are times when he truly has no idea what is good for him. Do you know what his motives for this endeavor were?"

"No, I don't. He refuses to answer my questions."

"Money...at least that was the initiating factor. From my understanding, that was what coerced you to be in the position that you're in now, as well."

Though she loathed admitting it, it was the truth. Money! She had done this whole thing for money, so she could hardly blame Snape there. However, Hermione knew that the money was only a secondary consideration for her now. Hang on! If he needed money, how could he have offered her such a healthy amount? Does that mean that he is getting money for having this baby also? She'd need to think about the implications of that later.

"I have seen Severus several times since hiring you, and I firmly believe that whether he realizes it or not. He now sees this child as his redemption." Minerva paused and spoke the next words in just barely a whisper. "And, I think that you may be his redemption as well."

Hermione eyed the woman closely and was ready to question her further when she heard the clomping of boots coming towards her. Hermione turned around to face the approaching Potions master.

"Hermione," he said in acknowledgement. He looked at the bed and saw the frail form of his friend. "Happy Christmas, Minerva," he said to her. The old woman managed a faint smile in reply. Severus turned his attention back to Hermione. "The Healer is returning. I trust that you can keep her occupied for a few minutes whilst I finish up with the visit."

Hermione nodded. "Minerva, thank you, for everything. Happy Christmas!" she said with a smile. Minerva reached up, grabbed her hands, and squeezed them tightly. "Remember what I said, Hermione. Take care of the both of you."

Hermione heard the woman walking towards them, and she stepped forward to hide the conscious form of Professor McGonagall and walked towards the Healer. "Healer Astley, perhaps you could enlighten me on the important work that you do here," she said, motioning the Healer towards the desk at the front of the ward.

Severus sat next to his friend. He knew that he didn't have much time. "I trust that you had a pleasant visit with Miss Granger."

"Miss Granger?" she choked out behind a chuckle. "Yes, Hermione and I had a very nice visit, Severus. Too bad I will not be able to see her again. I would have liked to have spent more time with her."

"We do not have to do this now, Minerva."

"Yes, we do. I can't continue existing like this. It is painful, Severus. Even with this brief respite that you give me from time to time, it is too much. I think even without your help I would only last a few more weeks. Please help me to end this now."

He looked long and hard at her. The implications of what she was asking of him, it was more than he had thought that he would be able to do for anyone. The only consolation was how very dear to him she was. He could not bear to see her in pain. Severus nodded and withdrew a small phial filled with a clear liquid from his robe pocket. He moved his wand to touch the phial and whispered a few quick words. He met her eyes again. "The phial will disappear in five minutes."

Minerva reached forward, grabbed his hands, and nodded towards Hermione. "She truly is a remarkable young woman, Severus. Do not deny yourself the possibilities that she holds."

He narrowed his gaze upon her. He truly did not want the last words he heard from his friend to be nothing more than romantic notions about a Gryffindor and him. "Minerva..." he began.

"Don't waste time arguing with me...and don't dawdle in regards to her, or I daresay, you will be too late."

Severus quirked an eyebrow to question what she was referring to. Has Hermione admitted to feeling something more?

"Do not play stupid, Severus Snape. The girl has been receiving gifts from a secret admirer for nearly a month. I suggest that you quit wasting time. Now, give me my phial so that I may take the potion before I become trapped in that ruddy catatonic state again, and I am unable to drink it myself."

Severus placed the phial in her open hands and strode back towards the door to leave the ward and the horrid hospital. He felt little comfort knowing that this would likely be the last time that he'd visit his friend. He walked past Hermione who was speaking with the Healer about her opinion of the poor quality of care that the patients seemed to be receiving.

"Come along, Hermione," he said somberly as he moved past her. Nodding, she rose and followed him out the door. Each of them shot a last glance back at the woman who now lay motionless at the other end of the room. "Goodbye," muttered Severus as he closed the door to the ward behind them. He walked Hermione down to the main lobby of the hospital and escorted her to the fireplaces. She looked at him questioningly. "I believe you are familiar with the Floo, Hermione," he drawled.

"Yes, of course I am. Need I remind you of the short speech that you gave me prior to our arrival here?" she replied with a hint of a smile.

Severus refused to meet her eyes as he answered the mouthy girl. "Yes, however, I spent my time this evening thinking on some issues and decided that traveling once by Floo would indeed be more pleasurable and is very unlikely to cause any problems. Now, I wish to leave this horrid facility as quickly as possible. So, if you would?" he asked whilst indicating the small jar of Floo powder on the mantle.

Hermione allowed her smile to grow as she grabbed a handful of the powder, tossing it into the hearth and disappearing from London.

Upon the pair arriving in Severus' quarters at Hogwarts, Hermione looked at him and smiled. "Thank you for taking me to see her. It was truly wonderful." Hermione leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. It had been a pleasant surprise indeed. "When do you think we can do that again?" she asked as she quickly, turning away to remove her traveling cloak and to hide her blush.

"We will not be making that same trip again," he answered. Severus was slightly taken aback by her kiss. Do not be stupid. This is not the first time that she has kissed you in thanks for something, he chided himself.

"We won't be going again? Why?" asked Hermione.

"These trips were always hard on her, Hermione." Severus sighed as he unbuttoned his outer cloak and removed it. He sat in his armchair by the fire and watched the young witch. Her hair was windswept and messier than usual from their trip through the Floo, and she had smudges of ash on her face. "Have a seat," he said, indicating to what he now thought of as her chair. Severus unsheathed his wand and waved it, summoning a tea service for them.

"You know that Minerva was badly injured. It took me nearly two years to figure out the array of curses and hexes that she had been hit with. She was not young, and with the damage done by all of those Stunners a few years prior, her immune system was already weak. By the time we discovered which curses she had been hit with, it was too late to help her. She lives in a constant state of exhaustion and pain. The catatonic state which you witnessed upon your arrival is the only way that she can exist, and that state is brought on by no less than a dozen potions." Severus poured himself some tea and slowly began sipping from the cup. "Trust me, Hermione, exist is the most appropriate word here. She does not live; she merely survives. The potion which I gave you today counteracts the potions which the Healers give her on a daily basis. It exhausts her to do it, and each time I give her the potion, it ebbs away days from her life." He held up a hand to stop the questions that she had just leant forward to ask. "I give her the potion at her request. There is something to be said about quality of life versus the quantity of it. Minerva has wished that her time be quality time. I took you today because the last few times that I visited her, she requested that I bring you along."

Severus sipped from his tea some more and stared into the blazing fire. He was thankful that Hermione had figured out it was best to wait rather than jump in with more questions. He looked at the woman sitting across from him as she was also gazing in the fire. Was she looking for comfort and solace there as well? He watched as tears formed in her eyes and traversed her cheeks. Wordlessly he removed a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to her. She dabbed at her cheeks, and after several long minutes, he spoke again.

"Her life, such that it is, was likely only going to be a few weeks longer. You have to understand how much pain she is in, constantly, and visits like today only make her condition worse...so very much worse," he muttered, more to himself than to her. Severus took a breath and looked back at the young witch. He saw concern and understanding dancing behind her brown eyes. "Last time that I was there, she requested that I bring her the Draft of Peace as a Christmas gift. As a potion that in normal circumstances would just relax a person, I am sure that you know what the potion will do to Minerva."

Hermione did not know what to say. There was a sick churning in her stomach, but it was not out of anger or fear. It was simply from knowing that Snape was right and that there was nothing more that could be done for her mentor. She wished that she had known while she had been visiting with her today. What would I have said differently? Maybe how important she had been to her, she decided. Hermione ran her fingers over her belly and closed her eyes concentrating on the fluttering movements that were distracting her. She thought on Minerva's words to her that evening and vowed that she would do everything in her power to follow the woman's parting advice.

Severus watched her. He thought of his hands on her abdomen, as they had been that morning. He had enjoyed that closeness with her, the awe in the life that was growing. A part of him. I must not do this right now, he told himself. He placed the empty cup back on the tray and rose from his chair. "I am going to go make my rounds," he announced as he summoned his teaching robes and exited the room.

Hermione continued to sit there and wondered about his hasty exit. "He has to go patrol the halls for five students?" she asked aloud before laughing loudly. That was what she needed; she needed to laugh. Oh Lord, if Ron could hear me now, he would likely point out that laughing at such a time was a clear sign of going mental. What was it her mother had always said when she was a child? People laugh when they hurt too much to cry.

She placed her empty teacup on the service and walked to her room. Hermione felt sad, tired, and a little confused, but she finally decided that this was definitely an appropriate way to christen her new journal...from her mysterious admirer. I'll have to ponder that issue tomorrow! Once there, however, she noted that her bed seemed inviting. She lay down with one hand on her stomach and the other wiping the occasional tear until she drifted off into a much-needed sleep.

A/N: I am sorry that it took so long for that update, but it took me a long time to get the scene with Minerva to work right. Yes, hers is the character death I warned about. I wanted to show that the aftermath of Voldemort is unpleasant. Even survivors don't all get a happy ending, as with any war.

I realize that this borders on assisted suicide. I'm not trying to support or hinder that argument. I have seen many cases in terminal care units where patients are purely drugged to the point of comfort. The fact that comfort equals death is beside the point. I see this as a similar situation.

These sites are purely for information and to cite sources for my information. They are not affiliated with The Petulant Poetess.

Information for jade butterflies found here:

http://www.crystal-cure.com/symbol-butterflyjade.html

http://www.likeacat.com

McGonagall's age was per estimation by the HP-Lexicon.

Southern's Notes: I am sorry to see Minerva go, but I do like the way she planted little seedlings in their minds. Sort of sounds like Snape had some thoughts already, eh? Muahahaha