Chapter 8

Harry was bouncing a giggling James on his knee while Severus sipped a second portion of chicken soup. He put down his spoon and leaned back to gaze thoughtfully up at Hermione.

"I note that you didn't rush to drool over Scorpius Malfoy," he said in his smooth, silken voice. "Do you not like babies, Miss Granger?"

"I don't dote on them," Hermione replied.

"One wonders if you are cut out to be a mother, in that case." He smirked up at her, his hands folded protectively on his abdomen.

"That isn't fair," Harry said hotly before Hermione could think of a reply. "I didn't drool over Malfoy's baby either, but that doesn't mean I don't adore my own two. Hermione loves James and Albus, and the Weasley children. Not every witch is a Molly Weasley."

"Thank Merlin for that," Hermione muttered and couldn't resist adding, "Daphne seems to be very fond of your bump, but then, I suppose she did know about it long before I did."

"Of course – the Malfoys knew before I even discovered that it was yours."

Harry stopped bouncing James and looked sharply at Severus. "Whose did you think it was, if not Hermione's?"

Snape narrowed his eyes.

"Why should it have been anyone's other than mine, Potter?"

"He thought it was Lucius'," Hermione said.

Severus surged to his feet, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Why, you..." He bit off his sentence as James let out a wail, alarmed by the violent movement and the sudden tension in the room. Harry shushed him and settled him to cuddle against his chest.

"So your friends are allowed to know but mine aren't?" Hermione asked sweetly. She had the feeling that if she allowed Severus to intimidate her even once, she would never regain his respect.

"My friend's reputation has suffered enough," Severus snapped. "I will not allow it to be smirched with another scandal, not after he has done so much for me."

"That's fair enough," Harry agreed, "and I wouldn't dream of saying anything to anyone. It was you who accused my friend of not being a fit mother. Are you surprised that she retaliated? People do, Snape, when you hurt them, or didn't you know?"

He got to his feet, hefting James under one arm. "This little lad is overdue for his nap; I'll just take him up to his room."

Severus subsided back into the armchair, his expression once again schooled into impassivity.

"I could sit on the arm and coo and pat your tummy, if you like," Hermione said lightly. She startled a rare, soft gust of laughter from him.

"Do you really wish to?"

In answer, Hermione plonked herself where Daphne had sat and reached down. He caught her hand and placed it on the hard, warm swell of his belly.

"I'm too full of soup to be patted."

"You'll soon be full of baby."

"I'm all too aware of that fact, Miss Granger."

"What does it feel like?" she whispered. "I'll never know, so this is the nearest I'll get to being pregnant."

"I feel full – awkward when I bend down – and I can't tolerate anything tight around my middle."

"You must feel vulnerable."

"Yes," he said after a moment.

"I was so worried when the Aurors took you away. I've heard a few unpleasant rumours about Gaius Stott."

"Well, I survived," Severus said brusquely. "Your baby is unharmed." He firmly lifted her hand away, and even though he barely moved, his body language changed to an attitude of rejection. As Hermione drew away, rather hurt, she heard what Severus had already noticed: Ginny's brisk footsteps approaching the door.

"Mrs Potter, thank you for inviting the Malfoys into your home. It was ... kindly done."

"You're welcome," Ginny said. "We're not monsters, you know, despite what Miss Greengrass says." She glanced thoughtfully at Hermione before taking a seat on the sofa. Harry came down the stairs, realised that she was clearly waiting for him, and sat down next to her with an interrogative expression. Ginny sighed.

"Well, Dad is going to be furious if he finds out. Mum used a sex-magic ritual, and I suspect he didn't even know anything about it; she did the preparatory spell before he came into the room, and she made sure he'd had rather a lot of mead first. I've borrowed the book that she got the ritual from." She held up a small, battered volume with a Spellotaped spine.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Hermione peered at it. "'Nanny Hogg's Tips and Wrinkles for Love and Marriage'? When was this published?"

"Around the middle of the nineteenth century. It was my great-grandmother's." Ginny flicked through the book. "Most of the recipes are for harmless charms and simple potions, but at the back, there's a section on conception and childbirth. This is the ritual she used." She held out the book. Severus took it, and Hermione watched his black gaze skimming rapidly from side to side. He sat back again, letting out his breath with a sigh.

"She's pinned it in place with true sex magic."

"One of the three great generators of magical power," Harry said, quoting from the Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven. "Sex, birth and death. Does that mean that the birth magic can be used to remove the spell?"

"Birth or death."

"Death magic is Dark magic," Harry said warningly.

"So it is, Potter. Birth magic is taken to be intrinsically Light, and sex magic depends upon the purpose and the nature of the generating ritual. Magic generated by rape is Dark. At least in this case, the sex was by consent even if Arthur had no idea that Molly was gathering the generated power or why she was doing it." He sighed and placed his hands flat on his robes, spreading his fingers out across his belly and massaging it lightly. "I'm stuck with this for the duration; only the birth can unhook the spell."

"I'm sorry," Ginny said. He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she gave a wry little smile. "I'm sorry that Mum was such an idiot and did this to you, but I can't say I'm sorry that my best friend has a chance to be a mum, though."

"I'm bloody furious about the court case," Harry said. He slid an arm around his wife's shoulders and she leaned against him. "You shouldn't have to go through all this stress."

"I am resigned to spending the rest of my unplanned and unnatural pregnancy at your beck and call, Potter. I consider it the icing on the cake."

Harry made an irritated flapping motion with his free hand. "You always were a drama queen, weren't you, sir? I've no intention of turning you into some sort of house-elf." He frowned in thought. "I'll have a word with Meridia tomorrow."

Meridia Frimp was the head of the Auror office, one of Kingsley's first appointees and a very sensible and efficient witch. She reminded Hermione of Professor McGonagall.

"I did have a thriving business to run," Severus said in a snide tone. He folded his arms.

"Were you intending to work throughout your pregnancy?"

"Witches do."

"Witches are designed for pregnancy, wizards aren't," Ginny said not unkindly. "You might find that your back and hips start protesting once you get heavy. My babies were carried cradled in here," she indicated the space between her hips, "a lot of the weight towards the back. Your hips are too narrow for that, so you're going to carry a big bump right out in front and you'll have to arch your back a lot more to compensate."

"Is it the money you're worried about?" Hermione asked. Severus glowered darkly.

"I have savings – unless the Wizengamot decides to seize my assets."

"They might."

"They'd better not," Harry muttered. "We won't throw you out on the streets, destitute, whatever happens. I give you my word – we'll do what we can for you."

"I have an appointment next week with Healer Strood," Severus told him. "I have been advised to walk a minimum of two miles a day at a brisk pace at this stage, to retain muscle tone, and I have my potions. No doubt Mrs Potter knows the essentials of a suitable Healer-approved diet."

"Have you been walking?" Hermione asked curiously, earning another glower.

"Around the Malfoy estate every morning after breakfast."

"Speaking of Malfoy," Harry said, "I really ought to see the letter."

"Letter, Potter?"

"The letter that I'm sure he put in with the potions."

Severus waved a hand at the satchel, which floated across the room into his grasp. He extracted a roll of parchment and held it out. Harry glanced down it and handed it back with a nod. "Thank you. If I'm asked, I can now say with complete truth that I've seen the letter you received from Lucius Malfoy. We both know that he will have included another letter for your eyes only."

Severus stared at him, frowning in thought rather than anger.

"I would almost believe that you are learning to think like a Slytherin, Potter."

"Didn't you know? The Sorting Hat wanted to put me into Slytherin."

There was something satisfying about the momentarily horrified expression on Severus' face.

oooOOOooo

Hermione paused by the bedroom door, wondering whether to ease it open to check if Severus was still awake.

"Either come in or cease skulking around, Miss Granger."

He was lying in bed, propped up against a pile of pillows with a book in one hand.

"I just wanted to see if you were all right," Hermione said. Severus huffed and let the book fall to the counterpane.

"If I am required to spend the next five months being asked at hourly intervals if I'm all right, Miss Granger, you will find out how very good I am at wandless hexes."

"Put it like this," Hermione stated as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "I don't quite trust you."

"That much is very apparent," Severus said through gritted teeth. "Now get out..."

"You misunderstand. I don't trust you to tell me if anything's going wrong. I don't trust you not to put up with pain and discomfort, because you've always been forced to be self-sufficient and I suspect you've put up with a lot of pain in your life. You'd rather suffer and try to deal with problems with your own potions than tell anyone else."

"That is a reasonable estimation of my character," Severus said dismissively. "Now, if you would care to go away, we'll both be happier. You have checked up on me and have informed me that you care."

"I want your word that you'll tell me or Lucius or Healer Strood if anything concerns you."

"Very well, you have it. Now bugger off."

There was a curiously light note in his voice – just a hint that he was not as irritated as he wished to appear. Hermione grinned.

"In exchange, I'll promise not to pester you. You see, if I can trust you to tell us if you're unwell or in pain, I won't need to keep asking, will I?"

"I suppose you don't include attempting to bond with the squirt under the heading of 'pestering', Miss Granger?"

"Sorry, no. May I?"

He shrugged, and she slid her hand under the quilt, between the buttons of his nightshirt and onto the warm, smooth skin. As she did so, she noticed the book lying discarded at his side. "Magical Pregnancy Month By Month? Did Ginny lend you this?"

"Her pregnancies were perfectly normal and un-magical," Severus said dismissively. "Lucius sent it."

"Hidden in the satchel?"

"No. While you were exercising your maternal instincts with the Potter offspring after dinner, you may not have noted the appearance of a Malfoy house-elf, bearing a trunk containing clothing and books."

"Did Harry check them?" she asked anxiously and Severus snorted.

"No elf would Apparate into the territory of another house-elf without permission – that ancient reprobate informed his Master as a matter of course before allowing Prossy in. I would have informed Potter anyway. He was under no obligation to treat me as a guest rather than a prisoner; I am aware that my situation is comfortable only because of his intervention on my behalf. Do you consider me boorish enough to abuse his hospitality?"

"I'm never sure of anything with you."

"All part of my innate charisma, my dear."

Hermione chuckled. "That's a Malfoyism if ever I heard one."

"Yes, he is as much of a peacock as his pets."

"That suggests he's all show and no substance, which I don't agree with. He's far more knowledgeable than I expected, to be honest."

"Draco did not come by his prowess at potions by accident," Severus said; then, at Hermione's dubious expression, he added, "I admit that the boy was lazy, concentrating his efforts upon besting Potter, playing politics and impressing his teachers rather than in academic achievement, but even so, his grades were earned by merit, as were his father's."

"Nowadays, I'm regularly surprised by Slytherins," Hermione told him. The skin of his stomach tightened and twitched under her hand as she smoothed it, and she realised that his breathing had deepened. She looked into his eyes, black and wide, and the next moment, he had pulled her down onto the bed by her arms and rolled on top of her, pinning her down.

"Really?" he purred, reaching to push the heavy mass of her hair back from her face.

"Oh, yes."

He smirked and whispered, "Had you not better cast a silencing spell before we surprise the Potters?"

Hermione fumbled for her wand as he obligingly lifted his weight from her arm and waited as she cast the spell. He traced the shape of her mouth with his fingertips, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration. Hermione felt she had never been subjected to such a close and intense scrutiny. She felt shivery with excitement, eager to be pinned under more than just the weight of his regard, and yet she placed a hand on his chest, pressing her palm against the hard bone of his sternum.

"And what is bothering you now?" he asked, although without apparent rancour.

"Lucius."

He let out a long breath.

"I never could compete with the beautiful Malfoy," he said in a tart voice, and Hermione gave a little gasp.

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant! It would be nice if he could be with us, but Severus, what worries me – I don't want to come between you and him. I don't want to spoil things between you."

"You really think he cares what I do without him?"

"Yes, I think he does."

Snape flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the lamp lit ceiling.

"My dear girl, as long as I am still his shadow, his dark acolyte, I doubt if he gives a flying fuck. I'm a good shag, I work hard to please him, I'm discreet, and I'm intelligent enough to amuse him on winter evenings. He and I are inextricably bound in a web of debts and secrets and lies."

"Lies?"

"We're Slytherin; of course we tell lies. After all, if you usually tell lies, people don't notice the occasional accidental truth. Dear God." He prodded himself in the middle with a forefinger. "The hormones appear to have made me lachrymose as well as embittered and randy. What a horrible combination."

Hermione surveyed him with narrowed eyes.

"You loved him," she stated finally. "You followed him to Voldemort because you loved him, and you still love him. You don't do things by halves, do you?"

She rubbed the soft, worn cotton nightshirt where it rose over the bulge of his belly, and he observed her suspiciously. "You're aware what that does to me, aren't you?"

She allowed her hand to slide around the curve to nudge at his erection.

"Mmmhmm. Shall we do something useful with this?"

"Such as?"

Hermione released him to unfasten the zip of her jeans, kneeling over him and shrugging out of her clothes as he watched her. Then she lifted his nightshirt up over his head.

"I'm not exactly pretty to look at," he muttered, turning away, and Hermione grasped his chin and forced him to face her.

"I could kill Lucius Malfoy! Doesn't he ever tell you how sexy you are? Because you are!" She continued her protest as he attempted to argue. "You're elegant and your voice is like melted chocolate and you move beautifully and you have the darkest eyes I've ever seen!" She kissed him to stop his rebuttal, adding against his mouth, "And so what if you've got a big tummy? It's my baby in there, and you wouldn't believe how sexy that feels!"

He rolled over on top of her again so that the round, hard shape pressed down into her abdomen and she could pretend for a moment that it was she who contained its subtle weight. She locked her ankles behind his back and felt his cock prodding eagerly at her. She wriggled until he sank home and they each gave a sigh of pleasure.

"Witch," he murmured against her hair. "This may be over faster than either of us would wish."

"Doesn't matter. Do it again later."

"You hope." He began to move in her, adjusting his speed to match the pull of her legs behind his back in a way that Ron had never seemed to grasp, until his control broke and he thrust fast and hard, coming in her with a bitten-off cry. Hermione lay beneath him, sweat-soaked and slick, wondering if he would simply fall asleep, and was astonished when he slid down, still panting, and nosed at the damp curls between her thighs. Her clitoris was already sensitised and his hot, puffing breath, his teasing tongue and deft fingers brought her to a swift conclusion every bit as satisfying as his.

He gazed at her with glittering eyes.

"Yes?" She slid a fingertip across his chest, flicking gently at one of his small, brownish nipples. "Something amuses you?"

"It is ungentlemanly to comment upon your previous paramours," he said, stretching his back and shoulders.

"But you do wonder why I married him. Shall we just say it wasn't for the sex and leave it at that?"

"Or the intellectual conversation, I suspect."

"I thought you said that was ungentlemanly?"

"Did I ever claim to be a gentleman? 'Greasy bastard' was, I believe, the more usual term." He reached out towards the bedside table and his face seemed to sink into a scowl as if his affability was an act and this was its default expression. She realised that he had automatically reached for his wand, forgetting that it was still in Harry's possession. He bent down to pull the quilt up over them, huffing as his stomach got in the way. "Kindly put out the lamps, Miss Granger," he said stiffly.

Hermione sighed and groped for her wand. She was almost asleep when she heard the soft rumble of his voice.

"I was never a nice man, Hermione."

"No," she said drowsily, "but you've always been a good one." She nestled into his side and fell asleep with his arm around her.

oooOOOooo

Hermione sat bolt upright, reaching for the wand that she always, always kept under her pillow, except that it wasn't there, and the echoes of a scream still reverberated in her ears.

"Fuck!" The voice was male, and familiar, although slightly hoarse. She remembered where she was, remembered leaving her wand on the bedside table, groped for it and lit the tip. Snape's black eyes glared at her out of his pale, sweaty face.

"What's wrong? Are you all right?"

He sank back against the pillows and threw his arm across his eyes to block out the wandlight.

"Go back to sleep. I knew I should have thrown you out as soon as we'd finished."

Hermione stared at his naked chest with its sprinkle of dark hairs, the ugly old tattoo faded to a grey shadow on his forearm, and his tense jaw, the only visible part of his face.

"I have nightmares about that snake," she confessed, flicking her wand to extinguish the light. Severus snorted.

"Do you." It was not a question.

"We all do. Have nightmares, I mean. Ron and George, Harry and me, Neville and Ginny."

"Please renew the silencing spell," he said abruptly. "I would rather not have to explain to your anxious friends that I have neither killed you nor used the Imperius curse to get you into my bed."

Hermione cast the spell, then placed her wand carefully under her pillow. When she moved warily closer to Severus, she felt him flinch.

"Do you want me to go?"

"It would be best."

"But do you want me to? I'd rather stay."

"I'll only keep you awake."

"That doesn't matter."

The bed dipped, and she realised he was getting up. "Severus? Don't go, please."

"Bathroom," he said shortly, and she heard him pad barefoot across the room and into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door quietly. He returned after a couple of minutes and subsided onto the bed with a sigh. "Little bugger's squashing my bladder," he grumbled, "and he isn't even kicking yet. Oh, this is such fun."

Hermione reached out and embraced him, feeling him go tense and still in her arms. She began rubbing soothing circles on his abdomen. He seemed unused to anyone showing him any affection, and although he gradually relaxed, he made no move to return the favour. As her eyes began to droop shut, she suddenly realised she could hear small, curling snores, and she smiled and allowed her hand to fall still, cupping the place where their child grew in warmth and darkness.

oooOOOooo

"Morning," Harry said from behind the Daily Prophet in response to Hermione's greeting. She slipped into a chair and helped herself to tea and toast. Harry lowered the paper. "Where's Snape?"

"Having a shower. I ought to go into work today – I won't have any leave left at this rate."

"I want Snape to come to the Ministry with me this morning; you'd better come with us. Ron's arranged us an appointment with Meridia."

"Oh, right. Anything I ought to know in advance?"

He shook his head and handed her the paper. "No, Ron just said that he had an idea and needed Meridia to approve it. I don't think she was very pleased about me being tied up Snape-sitting until the court case."

"That might be ages. Didn't that awful Bunter say something about a trial within the next six months?"

"Yeah, and I think he'll try and arrange it at the most inconvenient time he can, like when poor old Snape's about to pop. Oh, bugger." He gave a little shiver. "I might have to cope with that."

"You managed all right when Ginny had the boys, Harry."

"That was different; that was my wife. I don't fancy having to deal with a Snape in labour; that's scary."

"Healer Strood says they'll remove the baby by magic when it's ready. It's like a splinched Apparition – they Apparate him Side-Along and leave the baby behind."

Ginny came in carrying Albus and with James trotting along behind her, dragging his toy erumpent and singing a tuneless song that seemed to consist of the words, "The feeeeenix and the dwagon, the feeeenix and the dwagon," over and over again.

"Favourite bedtime story," Harry told Hermione, rolling his eyes. "The tale of the dragon who stole a phoenix egg. Very emotional."

"Dwagon!" James yelled and hit everything within reach with his erumpent. "Yeah, dwagon! Bad dwagon, we'll get the dwagon! My Daddy's a naurer an' he'll 'rest the dwagon!"

"Merlin save us," Severus murmured, pausing in the doorway.

"Dwagon!" screeched James and ran round the room beating off imaginary dragons with his stuffed toy.

"I've changed my mind," Severus said calmly, "I'm sending it back."

Ginny sniggered.

"Too late, Professor. Kreacher, where are you?"

"Kreacher is cooking breakfast, Mistress," the elf croaked. "Being a lone house-elf and therefore doing the laundry, cooking breakfast and attending to the owl post while writing a shopping list..."

"Yes, great," Ginny interrupted him, "I'm sure you're up to your eyes. Boiled egg and soldiers for James, please. I'll have porridge. What about you, Professor Snape?"

"Tea and toast will be sufficient."

"Tea and fresh toast and that nice lime and quince marmalade – oh, and pumpkin juice for James." She looked at Severus. "Fruit juice? We have fresh orange or apple, and what about some yoghurt?"

Severus shuddered. "No, thank you."

"You should have fruit and vegetables, and milk or yogurt for calcium."

"I am perfectly aware of what I require, thank you, Mrs Potter."

Ginny shrugged. "I'm sure you are. Don't worry, I had far too much smothering from Mum when I was pregnant to inflict it on anyone else, or at least, anyone else who's likely to be better than I am at wandless hexes."

Severus' lip curled slightly into a reluctant smirk, and Hermione noticed that he poured himself a glass of apple juice when he thought no-one was watching him.

oooOOOooo

"Ah, yes, Snape." Meridia Frimp looked up at him over the tops of her spectacles. "My nieces always spoke very highly of you when they were at Hogwarts."

Severus frowned for a moment and then his brow cleared.

"Vanessa and Veronica Woodcraft. Vanessa excelled at Potions; her sister was stronger at charm work and transfiguration."

"Weren't in Slytherin, were they?" Harry asked blandly.

"Indeed they were, Potter, as was their mother and both their aunts." Frimp nodded once at Harry, who took up a position beside the door, hands clasped behind his back and feet shoulder-width apart – every inch the professional Auror. "So," she said, leaning back in her chair and placing her fingertips together, "I really don't want one of my best young Aurors tied up for the next who knows how long, guarding the man who was responsible for helping him to rid the world of that mad wizard. Potter, do you have Snape's wand?"

"Right here, Ma'am." Harry handed it over.

"Could Snape overpower you without his wand?"

Harry stared at Snape for a moment, who gazed impassively back.

"Yes, I expect he could."

"Waste of your time guarding him, then. Anyone could do it since he'll escape if he wants to anyway. Granger, no doubt he could subdue you and escape just as easily."

It was typical of Frimp that she knew Hermione had reverted to her maiden name.

"Yes, he could."

Frimp reached down into her desk drawer, picked up something small and tossed it at Hermione, who just managed to catch it. It was a red and silver badge. "You're now a community Auror. Usually they work a minimum of five days a year in the public service – tasks like stewarding at international Quidditch matches, assisting the Aurors in emergencies, and so on. In your case, you're assisting Potter on guard duty." She showed her teeth in a grin. "Snape, one of Kingsley's conditions is that you submit to a custody spell, attached to Potter and Granger. You'll have to remain within ten yards of one or other of them or else the spell will kick in."

"With what consequence?" Severus asked, his voice level and face a blank mask.

"Oh, they'll both be alerted and you'll find yourself in a full body bind until one or other comes to release you. It'll kick in if you try to Apparate alone – you'd spread yourself across the landscape, so don't try it." She drew her wand. "Do you accept the custody spell?"

"What choice do I have?"

"This or Azkaban."

"I accept," he muttered with ill grace. Frimp spun her wand in a complex series of passes and a glittering light shimmered over Severus for a moment, outlining him in silver before vanishing. A deep coppery glow bloomed around Harry, and then Hermione saw her own hands glimmer as if illuminated by a sunset, before the magic sank into her skin and disappeared.

"Kingsley thought you'd be peeved," Frimp remarked. She picked up Severus' wand, handling it respectfully, but even so, Hermione saw Severus wince. "This is the wand that killed Dumbledore, is it?"

"I have never denied it," Severus said in a tightly controlled voice. "Kindly do not snap it."

"Oh, I've no intention of snapping it; this is a prime piece of evidence." Frimp reversed the wand and held it out by the tip. "Besides, Kingsley assures me that you'll behave yourself even if I give it back."

Severus hesitated for a moment before taking the wand and stowing it in his sleeve. Frimp nodded. "The charm I cast on you is tied in to the Ministry's surveillance systems, so if you try to break it, you'll find yourself surrounded by Aurors. It can only be lifted by a Ministry employee with top-level clearance. The death or incapacitation of either Granger or Potter will automatically sound the alarms here. Everything clear?"

"As daylight," Severus muttered. Frimp clicked her tongue.

"Potter, I'll expect you back at work after lunch. Granger, Kingsley has spoken to Headingly about releasing you from your usual duties until further notice. Snape ..." she waited until he looked at her before saying quietly, "good luck."

Harry opened the door and waited politely for Hermione to precede them out of the office.

"Could have been worse, Professor," he said bracingly. "You could have been attached to just me."

Severus' face twisted into a scowl, but he did not deign to reply.