Baby Rearing 101

Disclaimer: If JKR really has a problem with this, she can sue me for all I'm worth. At the moment, that amounts to one gerbil. Good luck.

AN: Infinite thanks to all who reviewed. Your input and kind words were read more times than I could count. Much apologies for the inexcusably long delay in updating.

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"How about Longbottom? He's always after that poor boy."

The past half-hour had been, quite simply, a lovely slice of hell itself. Snape had grudging new appreciation for the Founder's mode of punishment as he'd been forced to suffer through his colleagues' speculation as to the identity of the student half of his liaison--in alphabetical order, by house--while attempting to shove sustenance of any sort into the uber-finnicky Caligula Aurelius Snape. The child had refused the breast milk procured by Poppy, cooled milk from the Head Table, pumpkin juice, sugar water, Worchester sauce, creamed carrot, potato, banana, peas, squash, tomato, crumbled bread, applesauce, oatmeal, and lemon-drops.

Snape had developed a massive headache midway through the listing of the sixth- and seventh-years of Hufflepuff, specifically, the argument for Hopkins, Wayne vs. Jones, Megan as prospective objects of his affection before both were discarded in favor of MacMillan, Ernie. The specks of partially chewed food marring the intimidating effect of his normally stark-black robes did nothing to improve his mood. He ignored the guesswork as it progressed from Longbottom to Patil and tried coaxing the obdurate child on the table in front of him to ingest a bit of pudding. For an infinitesimal period of time he allowed himself hope as the spoon actually entered Caligula's mouth, but his optimism was dashed to bits when the infant spat globs of pudding at him with enough force to send the utensil bouncing off of his nose. The demon giggled in proud accomplishment and looked eagerly around the table in search of a smaller, more challenging olfactory target. Snape barely resisted the urge to pound his head against the tabletop, and the incessant scrutiny he received from the professor assigned to watch him for any hint as to a correct guess only added to the throbbing behind his eyes. At the moment the look-out happened to be Sinistra, and she was studying him with quiet expectation as if at any moment he'd spontaneously lose the instincts honed by decades of spying and confess enthusiastically when the roll arrived at the right name. He started to offer to fetch her telescope to aid her observation, but was interrupted when a new candidate was enthusiastically introduced by Sprout.

"My guess would be Harry Potter. Hate is a powerful emotion, but love is always triumphant in the end!" The Herbology professor beamed at him with such trust in the goodness of the world that Snape was unable to endure any more.

He summoned an unlabeled dark green bottle from his rooms that, upon opening, emitted alcoholic fumes of such strength as to nearly knock his closest neighbors, Flitwick and Hagrid, unconscious. He poured the brew near to full in a large mug, added the tiniest bit of pumpkin juice to prevent the noxious liquid from eating through the container, and then downed the concoction after dismissing Dumbledore's concerns for the infant with a brusque, "Nurse my fecking arse, Albus."

He felt immediately better in spite of knowing that Hermione would not approve of his sudden chemical dependency; indeed, he noticed, she was covertly shooting him her version of the raised eyebrow as best she could from her place at the Gryffindor table. However, she was unable to take further action as Dean Thomas and Ron Weasley, who had been discussing the pros and cons of adapting Muggle fighter jet tactics for Quidditch, decided to physically recreate the right/left arm bracket maneuver over her plate. Dean's buttered roll and Ron's forkful of blancmange had managed to steal the couscous off the spoon of Seamus Finnigan, spilling her drink in the process. He almost grinned at her unique expression of tolerant irritation toward the boys before he noticed McGonagall eyeing him with suspicion. He glared back, desperately trying to suppress the hiccup that suddenly bubbled up, until she looked uncertain, blinked twice, then broke off the confrontation and went back to her meal. Snape hadn't known whether to be smug or insulted when the Inquisition had almost immediately dismissed as a possibility the woman he was determined to shackle himself to for eternity, but had not deigned to interrupt the proceedings to correct the mistake. Though at the moment, he was almost prepared to take drastic measures to end the torture.

Meanwhile, mini-Snape had taken a keen interest in the mysterious liquid his 'mother' had so rapidly consumed, and was in the process of dragging the almost-empty mug toward him with his tail. Snape turned his attention back to his offspring and, noticing the child's curiosity, addressed him with no small amount of skepticism. "You want this?" He placed the mug in front of Caligula and watched as the infant dipped a hand in the dregs at the bottom of the cup and licked his fingers greedily.

"Very well." Snape emptied one of the failed baby bottles and filled it with half pumpkin juice/half mystery alcohol. The container was immediately wrenched from his grasp by the baby, who proceeded to suck at the bottle with all his might, chugging the drink as fast as his tiny throat could swallow. Snape watched with a combination of amusement and pride. Strangely, no one else at the Head Table noticed the dire breach in infant care protocol until Snape burped his son in Flitwick's direction, causing the Charms professor to sway in his seat from the effluvium.

"Severus Snape! What have you done to that baby?" McGonagall and Poppy rose in tandem from opposite sides of the table and marched toward him in a fair imitation of the aforementioned bracket maneuver. Snape, not overly concerned with impending matronly doom, examined the baby for any signs of trouble, such as death or dyspepsia. Finding none, he addressed those with the unction to question his parental skills with disdain. "Fed him, apparently. I apologize if that proved disagreeable in the least to your sensibilities."

Indeed, the infant was displaying a far lower level of inebriation than his parent and gazed curiously up at the old woman in white when she plucked him off the table. Snape took the opportunity for another couple of swigs from the bottle of fortification as McGonagall began berating him at close range. Fortunately for Snape, she had gone beyond the stage of comprehensibility in her ranting, and he was easily able to tune out the steady stream of impenetrable brogue until she thwacked him upside the head with one of Hagrid's extra-large drumsticks. At that very instant, Vector leapt to her feet from her place next to Sinistra holding a long piece of parchment adorned with much scribbling.

"I have it! He's shagging Ronald Weasley!" All seated at the Head Table turned toward the Arithmancy professor in varying states of disbelief. A large portion of the student population also tuned in to the spectacle as Vector began outlining her various calculations and formulas.

"Quantifying Severus's recent behavior as a function of his level of happiness--i.e. the amount of time he has spent not scowling, which is roughly ten times what it was last spring--and put it in bijection with the set of all people towards which his attitude has significantly changed, or those who bore the brunt of his wrath most within the last nine months, partitioned by the relation on X, the set of all detentions assigned by him in hours per day..."

Unfortunately for the inhabitants of the Great Hall, this last blow to his reputation--the assertion that he would even consider a Weasley in a vaguely romantic fashion--pushed Snape far beyond the limits of his patience. Amid the mathematical dissertation, he rose, assured himself that his offspring was adequately safe in the arms of Poppy, then stalked around the crowd surrounding Vector before marching toward the Gryffindor table, robes a-billow. All attention turned away from the aborted lecture and refocused on the Potions master as he stopped directly in front of two-thirds of the Golden Trio, with Potter having chosen to dine with Malfoy for the meal. Granger and Weasley stood up slowly to face Snape and the Hall grew silent.

Whether alcohol, the pounding behind his eyes, irritation, or all combined, what motivated Snape to act as he did next cannot be known. Whatever it was, the moment Ronald Weasley reached for his wand, Snape struck, stunning Weasley before he could arm himself then swooping down on Granger in a decidedly non-platonic fashion. While his original intent was to remain vertical as he ravished her, in his state of tipsiness, Snape misjudged his momentum and sent himself and the girl he was wrapped around straight into and subsequently on top of the table behind her. He quickly welcomed the change in trajectory as she responded with alacrity, and the pair soon became oblivious to all but each other amid the tableware and food.

Seamus Finnegan, having the misfortune to be seated right next to Hermione before Snape's spontaneous show of affection, promptly lost his lunch (his ham and sweet pepper on rye sandwich and crisps were crushed beneath his Potions professor's left knee) and could not decide whether to simply stare at the spectacle or vomit theatrically in his neighbor's lap. Said neighbor, Dean Thomas, was, like a great deal of the hall, trying to determine if he should poke his own eyes out with a dull spoon or Obliviate himself, or both simultaneously. Ginny, as a disciple of Molly Weasley, a much greater threat to Snape in the hexes-to-punish-male-naughtiness department than her brother would have been, was prevented from coming to the aid of her friend by Neville Longbottom crushing her in a hug in the midst of his panic attack. In addition, Malfoy held Potter at bay at the Slytherin table as an unquestioned favor to his Head of House. The staff appeared transfixed at the Head Table, so none intervened as the passionate embrace approached an indecent time span.

Fortunately for all involved, Snape's cloak had billowed just enough to obscure the specific placement and movement of body parts, and the unwilling spectators were spared most of the details when the kiss grew even more affectionate. Indeed, when it seemed the entwined couple had come to an unspoken agreement to demonstrate that the physical side of their relationship went far beyond snogging (as enthusiastic as it was), a visual that would have discouraged half a generation of witches and wizards from ever considering procreation, Hermione rolled Snape over into the salad bowl and straddled him, finally breaking the lip-lock in the process. The expression of pure happiness on Snape's face proved to be beyond the faculties of the entire house of Hufflepuff, which fell in a dead faint en masse into the lemon custard desserts in front of them.

Long moments eked by as the couple stared at one another and attempted to regain normal breathing patterns, sauce dripping from hair and robes and salad dressing slowly crawling its way across the table beneath them. The audience likewise remained motionless, including Potter and the youngest Weasley, who had ceased their struggles due to lack of oxygen. A crash from the front of the room broke the stillness and the spell of rapt attention as the spectators collectively blinked and looked rather muddled for a bit, some longer than others. A few turned to the Head Table in time to see Caligula Snape throw another large serving dish, this time of Dumbledore's haggis-refried-bean-casserole, off the table with all his might and a quickly improving evil giggle. The nearest members of the staff subsequently lunged or spelled for the mischievous infant to prevent the demise of another innocent plate of food. Snape took advantage of the distraction to move himself and Hermione off the table and into a standing position.

"What the bloody hell happened to you?"

Seamus Finnigan was looking at the pair in shock, and his exclamation drew the attention of the rest of the Gryffindor Table. Snape tried to appear dignified despite the chunks of mashed potato he could feel dripping from his left ear and his mild confusion at the statement.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor, Mr. Finnigan, for swearing."

The mass hysteria and retching that Snape had been expecting upon disclosure of his relationship with the Head Girl never materialized. He was quite disappointed (though he would never admit it) and fairly suspicious at the mild reaction of the Hogwarts population. Hermione was equally puzzled at her classmates' apparent obliviousness after she'd exchanged a large amount of saliva with the wizard over whom most would choose a rabid porcupine, if the issue of sex was involved. Before the pair was able to pool their investigative abilities, Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly to garner the attention of the students.

"Ahem. I've just realized that in the wake of our happy announcement at the beginning of the meal, I've neglected the less pleasant matters. I must warn you that Professor Snape has recently overstepped his bounds as teacher and guardian. If he has made any sort of unwelcome advances on your person in the past or tries anything in the future, remember that a double swish and two flicks to the left will quickly take care of the problem. We will also provide counseling and voluntary Obliviation. In addition, it appears that the lemon custard has not agreed with the Hufflepuffs, so eat at your own peril. Professor Snape, Miss Granger, please see me after the meal. Thank you, and have a wonderful Two-hundred-forty-out-of-two-hundred-seventy-fourths Day."

Snape and Hermione were nearly lost under the stampede following the Headmaster's dismissal, but managed to fight their way to the Hufflepuff tables, where the staff had begun the process of reviving the stricken children. After most had been put to rights, with the few stragglers sent to the Hospital Wing to recuperate from the shock, the couple retrieved their child from Hagrid and presented themselves to Dumbledore for punishment, only to have him peer at them befuddled. Again. As he could not remember what he'd requested their presence for, he decided to continue the discussion on the way to the Nursery.

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