Chapter Eight

"I think we should keep the baby, Severus."

Hermione's words reverberated through his entire being, shattering his thoughts into a million shards of stained glass. He pinched the bridge of his nose against another wave of exhaustion. Between his unsettled mind and rising every couple of hours to help Hermione tend to his hours-old charge, he'd gotten less sleep than he had since his waning days as Order spy.

Keep the baby. Keep the baby. Keep the... He applied a little more pressure, trying to find a way to switch off the perpetually looping words. How could he possibly take his wife's suggestion seriously? To raise another man's child, one that had no physical connection to the woman he loved...

"Severus Snape." Minerva caught his attention with all the finesse of a textbook slammed against a tabletop. "Have you heard a word I've said?"

He scrubbed his hand down his face. "I'm sorry, Minerva. As you can imagine, I didn't get much sleep last night."

Most women would have credited the remark to the presence of a newborn in the household. Perhaps commiserated over a story or two about their own early experiences with their offspring. But Minerva McGonagall was no ordinary woman. She looked at him as if she could see through the layers of wool, flesh, and bone directly into his soul. Concern deepened the wrinkles around her eyes. "Tell me, Severus."

He scowled at the witch. "Have you been in Trelawney's sherry?"

As always, Minerva's laughter buoyed his spirits. "Well, there is a certain amount of omnipotence that comes with the job," the headmistress sniggered. "But in this case, it comes from knowing a certain snarky Potions master since he was a toddler and loving him as a son for at least that long." Seriousness grayed her eyes. "It is easy to see there's more on your mind than the usual difficulties that come with having a wee one about the place. And you are far too troubled for it to be the press of the poor young lady's memories." She crossed her arms and shifted forward in the leather club chair she claimed each time she visited his quarters; her eyes softened into the motherly glow that always urged confessions past his lips, despite Unbreakable vows, with little more than a cursory battle. "Tell me what it is, lad."

"Hermione wants us to keep the baby." The information rushed out of his mouth like Crookshanks through the cat door after one of Peter Pettigrew's relatives. Severus ran his fingers through his hair. "Not just keep her, but claim her as our own. Falsify the birth certificate." He rested his elbows and his knees and cradled his pounding head in his hands. "Lie to all but a trusted few."

No doubt Minerva's eyebrows collided with her hairline after hearing such Slytherin tactics from her Gryffindor princess. He could practically hear the skin of her brow crinkling from across the room. "And why would she want to go that far? Surely your position within the government would..."

"She doesn't think that would be enough." He slowly raised his head to search for the peace he always found from the woman who'd stepped in to fill his mother's shoes years before Eileen Snape drew her last breath. "She seems to think this is the best way to keep young Mr. Weasley from ever laying claim to the child."

The wrinkles along Minerva's forehead deepened. "Did you tell her of the suspicions surrounding Molly Weasley?"

He shook his head. A full disclosure was forthcoming, but he'd like to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. "Hermione is still blissfully ignorant, thank God. She merely thinks the child's biological father will never prove to be a fit guardian. If we claim the baby is ours, delivered at home by Poppy, then..."

Minerva nodded. "And with Hermione's sabbatical from the wizarding world, no one would question the validity of the story." The older witch tilted her head thoughtfully. "I suppose, aside from Poppy and myself, Harry would be..."

"He hasn't seen her since Christmas." Severus shuddered a little as the memories of Hermione's nightmares following the young man's visit assaulted the inside of his skull. Even after all these years, sometimes it was two steps forward and a million back. Damn Ronald Weasley to hell and back. "Because of his continued friendship with the family, Hermione thinks it best to keep him in the dark."

Again the older witch nodded. "And the Malfoys?"

Severus sighed. Hermione really had put an enormous amount of thought into this scheme in a very short time. "Lucius and Narcissa would serve as the child's godparents. Both, along with young Draco and his wife, would be made privy to the situation since we visit regularly and they would know the infant could not be biologically ours. "

"But Ginevra is..."

"Disavowed, Minerva." He squeezed his temples as the pounding started up again. "Surely you remember that particular Ministry Ball fiasco."

The old witch stared at the dying embers in the fireplace as she bumped her thumb rhythmically against her lips. "And the mother's family? Does Hermione not believe they may wish to be involved once we identify them?"

"Hermione isn't inclined to believe the maternal grandparents will wish to acknowledge the child." He leaned his head against the back of the sofa and sighed. "I'm given to agree, especially since it appears no attempts were made to search for the girl."

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the whir of the old Stirling longcase clock in the corner. He glanced at Minerva. Her eyes seemed distant and unfocused. Finally, with a slight nod to herself, she turned back to him. "Well, it certainly seems a sound plan, all things considered."

"Seems a sound plan!" Severus vaulted from the sofa as if her words had set fire to the cushions. "Sound plan? Harry Let's-Get-Myself-And-My-Friends-Killed-As-Messily-As-Possible Potter's schemes weren't as harebrained as this one." He paced the length of the handwoven rug, irritation crushing the weave beneath his heel. "She wants to raise another man's baby. And not just any man, but the red-headed menace whose threats of finding a way to make her his have kept her from this world for nearly four and a half years." His chest tightened as the truth slowly bubbled to the surface. "Do you have any idea how difficult this could prove to be?"

"Severus..."

Memories of his own childhood slammed into the back of his eyes with enough force to spur a stinging surge of moisture. Of course she knew. He was proof of that. Still, doubt churned the words forward like the crashing waves of a winter storm, shredding his usual reticence. "How hard it will be to stare at the bastard's offspring day after day? To love this precious little girl the way she deserves to be loved?" He'd almost lapped the room once before a bit of his true fear reared its head. "What if she can't, Minerva? What if we try this, and a few months in she realizes she can't cope?" The weight of his history crashed down on him, almost forcing him to his knees. He grasped the edge of the mantel, his heart pounding like a stallion against his ribs. Air struggled in his lungs as he rested his forehead against his fist. In the orange glow of the dying fire, his worst fear shimmered. "What if I can't?" he whispered.

"Severus..."

The newborn's cry interrupted the headmistress, offering the reprieve Severus needed to compose himself. Straightening, he avoided Minerva as he swept his hand across his eyes. "Hermione's gone home to pack a few things we may need for our stay." He started toward his old bedroom. "If you'll excuse me for a moment."

SSHGSSHG

Severus moved aside the gauzy canopy suspended over the elf-carved cradle. The little one's cries had softened to whimpers the moment he stepped into the room. It was almost as if...

Don't think it, his logical mind ordered. She is under your care as a ward of the Crown. Nothing more.

But there could be. Severus sighed as he bent to lift the bundle into his arms. She could easily become yours. And Hermione's. All it would take is a few swipes of a quill. Merlin, when had his heart become so disloyal?

The tiny body wiggled and stretched in his hands, seemingly completely confident in the gentle strength of his fingers and palms. "Here now, little one," he crooned, drawing the newborn against his chest. "What's all the fuss?" He started the swaying rhythm and accompanying bum pat that had proved a miracle at dawn. Her whimpers faded into soft grunts of contentment as she curled against his chest, her tiny hands fisting the soft linen of his shirt. "Is this your Gryffindor attempt at garnering attention?" Ignoring the protest of rational thought, he kissed the crown of downy soft fuzz as dark as his own. "Or is it your Slytherin cunning meant to lure me into keeping you company until Hermione returns?"

He nuzzled the top of her head, inhaling the exotic perfume exclusive to newborns. A long-forgotten lullaby rumbled softly in his throat. "Neither will work on me, you know," he murmured between the chorus and bridge.

"Funny, from where I'm standing, the wee lass has you right where she wants you."

Severus flinched at the unexpected intrusion of Minerva's voice, rousing the tiny girl asleep against his chest. Another few pats to the diapered bottom, and she settled, gripping the front of his clothes impossibly tighter. "Minerva..."

She waved off any protest and glided across the room. "I know what you are worried about, my boy." Smiling gently, she placed one hand on his back and the other on the newborn's, rubbing both in a soothing rhythm. "And you needn't be." She smiled sadly. "You are not, and never will be, anything like your father."

Risking a glance at the woman whose acceptance of him was as unconditional as Albus' had been knotted with strings, Severus found confidence burning in her gaze...a confidence that flowed toward him in warm waves, filling his heart and buoying his soul. Unwilling to risk the effect hidden emotions might have on his voice, he simply nodded.

Minerva's smile brightened, the twinkle returning to the sapphire irises. "Good." She eased around him, then carefully lifted the sleeping child from his arms. Cradling the infant in the crook of her elbow, she placed her hand against his chest. "As for being able to love her despite her genealogy, she took up residence in there the moment you and Hermione laid eyes on her." She patted the spot above where his heart thrummed.

"You really think so?" Severus winced at how childlike and vulnerable he sounded. He hadn't meant to say anything. Then again, his confessions to the headmistress were rarely given intentionally.

Tears welled in her eyes. Or was the moisture gathering in his own merely distorting his view? "Of course I do, son." Her smile, though tremulous, was as firm as her gaze, feeding the hope swelling in his chest. "Now, what say we take my granddaughter on a tour of the castle before we resume our work?"