Recollection

By Taleya

Chapter Thirteen

Minerva smiled and slipped into her office as the two men degenerated into a jumble of shoulder punching and back-pounding hugs.  "Where the hell have you been?" Ron was yelling delightedly.  "Don't answer that, I know, ministry business… been keeping me on my toes too."

Harry grinned back at his friend. So Ron did decide to train as an Auror after all. "Usual stuff, how are you and Hermione? Set a date yet?"  A sudden thought struck him. "I didn't miss the wedding did I?" Deep training was just that - deep, and he'd had no contact with the outside world for nearly five months. Guilt prickled at the thought he'd missed the invitation somehow and his best friend's wedding.

"Wedding? Oh.." realisation cleared the confusion from the other man's face.  "Me and Hermione.  That's right, you've been out of the loop. We decided not to get married.  Well I wanted to …but Hermione didn’t.  She was all “Oh please, married out of high school, that’s so middle-class America” and while I was still trying to work that one out she hits me with how she wanted a career,  and how every woman wanted a career.  And then I asked her how come she couldn’t have a kids and a career…”  he scratched the back of his head and winced, a blush warring briefly with the freckles for his face. “Remember S.P.E.W?  It was like that, but worse. She went absolutely barmy! Started screeching that how dare I assume that she wanted children, and how it was just fascistic males trying to keep women oppressed that created the whole concept of marriage and how dare I attempt to tie her down to a stove and children and uh, well...It went on for a bit.  And then I said things and she said things and we kinda called it quits.  It was a wakeup, made us realise that we weren’t really that made for each other, or a future together. We still kept in touch though. After the embarrassment had worn off.” The two men sat together on the stairs for a bit in comfortable silence.

Well, at least Harry did. Ron was still talking, he couldn’t tell what about. His mind had crawled into itself, letting the other man’s words wash heedlessly over him, thoughts drifting in and out of focus.

Was that what should have happened? An amiable break-up, keeping in touch, growing to friends with a history deeper than usual?  Would that have happened if he hadn't been so hell-bent on shattering all ties and expunging the memory?  What could have been teased at him. Keeping in touch,  knowing from Severus, if he hadn't run away, he could have known, could have been there….

“So you’re an unspeakable now, huh?” Ron grinned and jabbed him in the shoulder, abruptly tearing him from his thoughts. “Shoulda guessed you’d head that way, I mean with all the stuff we did during our school years we were bound to join the ministry.  Me, I’m just an ordinary Auror, but you had to go the extra mile and glory didn’t you?”

Harry jerked his head up at that, eyes searching his friends.    Was that what Ron thought it was?  This was just like the TriWizard tournament all over again…

Ron rolled his eyes. “Joke Harry.  You know, I say something funny, you laugh….yeeeesh.  I’m actually kinda proud of you. It takes guts to be one of the Men of Mystery.  I though I’d seen some rough things in my work, I’d hate to see what you’ve seen.” He was silent for a long moment, then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder.  “I know you’ve been one of the first on the scenes of what the Death Eaters have been doing….If you need to….talk…or get drunk….or…something…”

It was like someone was pulling his teeth and Harry fought a laugh. Ron never really did do touchy-feely that well.  Still, it was appreciated.  Anything resembling human touch, anything that drove back the decisions and pressure and roiling turmoil inside. "Nah, I'm…I'm alright." Lies came more easily than truth nowadays.

"Heard you found Snape's kid." Ron leaned back on his elbows. "She wasn't hurt?" he relaxed as the other man shook his head. "Thank Merlin, I 'd hate to think of what he was going through.  Yeah, I mean he's Snape, but no one deserves that.  It was hard enough on him carrying the poor thing in the first place, and he really does care about her, you know?"

“You knew about that??” What, did everyone in the known universe know about Severus except him?

“Charlie told me. He found out when Dumbledore showed up in Romania with a bag full of leeches. Apparently one of the twelve uses of Dragon’s Blood is a cure for morning sickness. And I thought ‘Oh this I GOTTA see’ so I jumped on my broom and made up some half-cocked story about Ministry Business…”
 

***

Hogwarts hadn't changed and it was a peculiarly delightful stroll down memory lane for Ron as he made his way to the dungeons.   His mind was still bubbling at the fact Snape was pregnant, and he went more to see for himself that it was true and not some massive prank on behalf of his brothers rather than to poke fun.

Ok, so poking fun was a large element. C'mon, this was Snape, after all. He wondered what he was up to.

From the looks of things, Snape was delightedly tormenting a joint class of first year Hufflepuffs and Slytherin.

"Oops, sorry." He hadn't considered the thought that the other man was conducting a class. Idiot, he's a teacher what else would he be doing?

"Not at all." Snape waved him in.  Leaning over his desk, he spread his palms out across the wooden surface, addressing his class.

"Ladies and gentlemen - and in a good many cases I do use those terms loosely - I introduce to you Ronald Weasley, famed Auror and a hero of the final battle against Voldemort." Ron grinned and waved a sheepish hand at the class.  "An impressive introduction indeed, and one may think his acts almost make up for his abysmal scores in his potions final."

Ron's grin faded and a few Slytherin snickered.

The Hufflepuffs in the front row shrank back as Snape leaned further over his desk towards the class, looming menacingly. "You may think that brave acts and noble stupidity can take the place of lesser attributes such as intelligence, foresight and education and indeed in the outside world this may occasionally hold true but this is my classroom, and in my classroom a fail is still a fail and you are required to pass your potions exam if you ever wish to see a school year beyond your first!"

In the far right corner a Hufflepuff made a small squeaking noise and nearly fainted.

Snape sat back, satisfied.  "I expect you to read chapters fourteen to twenty-seven by tomorrow, we will be creating an anti-venom for snakebite.  The last person through those doors will volunteer themselves as a test subject to the efficiency of your efforts.  Class dismissed."

Ron's grin resurfaced as the class bolted past him with an all-too-familiar panic.  A few looked as if they would like to linger and speak with the Auror, but a single glare from Snape sent them packing.

Severus straightened a few papers on his desk before finally acknowledging the man standing there waiting. "Yes, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron cleared his throat and tried to look official.  "I'm here on Ministry business, Professor, and -"

"Bollocks."  The word cut across his half-formed excuse and his eyes widened at the word.  "You've come to gawk at the infamous Professor Snape in a delicate condition."  He leaned back in his chair and spread his robes open, unashamedly showing the way his now-noticeably rounded belly pushed softly at the buttons of his frock-coat. "By all means, indulge your perverse fascination."

"Wow." It was completely unaffected and Ron reached out instinctively to touch.

Snape pulled back from the contact, tugging his robes closed again. "Your brothers have already come to gape - although they, at least, didn't insult my intelligence by pretending otherwise.  They also left me several…treats..." the word was said with the careful distastefulness of a society lady picking up something unpleasant with a pair of sugar tongs. "…from their abominable sweets line, and although I have faced trolls, dementors, and Lord Voldemort himself, none of them inspire quite the same amount of terror as that revoltingly gay-coloured contraption." He gestured to a basket on the edge of his desk.  "Do you suppose there is anything palatable in there?"

Ron peered into the basket and winced.  "I think so. Just don't eat the purple ones." He was unnerved, to say the least.  He didn't know which was more disconcerting, the fact that Fred and George had put together a fairly innocent package of treats, or that he was actually conversing with Snape.

"Or what, I might swell up like a balloon?" Severus himself was feeling rather mellow as he eased himself out of his chair and began cleaning up the aftermath of his latest class.  Thanks to the combined efforts of Dumbledore and Pomfrey his morning sickness was now nothing more than a highly unpleasant memory, a night of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep had done wonders for his disposition and this morning's breakfast of kippers and jam had been particularly delightful.

Then again, the mood swings may have had something to do with it.

"Um, no…" Ron scrunched up his nose as he tried to remember what had happened to Ginny when she'd tried one. "Oh, that's right, your hair turns bright pink.  Are you sure you should be doing that in your condition?" he hovered nervously behind the slow-moving potions master as he tidied up.

Snape turned and arched a brow at him.  "Since you ask, of late some of my students have taken to staying behind after class to clean up the abysmal failures of their efforts, but seeing as your presence appears to have scared them off - " Ron suddenly found himself with a handful of test tubes. "Make yourself useful."

The Auror smiled ruefully as the potions master made his way back to his desk. He'd walked into that one.  Filling the sink in the corner of the room, he worked his way around the classroom, gathering up crucibles and retorts, clearing away the scraps of paper left hastily behind by students with the fear of Snape within them.

A rough caricature of Snape abandoned on a table caught his eye and he paused for a moment, studying it.  It was a rough sketch, the type done by a bored student, but the artist did have some talent.  The rough bangs framed a pale severe face above a boiling cauldron in a well known pose, although the threatening façade was rather spoiled by the grossly exaggerated pregnant belly he'd been graced with.  A crudely drawn voice bubble filled the next cell, with the words blah blah blah blah blah blah spilling out and across the page.  Lips twitching, he followed the brief comic to its conclusion, where Snape exploded into a shower of babies.

Suppressing the urge to laugh, he tucked it into the sleeve of his robe.  It was disturbing, but funny none the less, and a testament to the fact that Snape hadn't lost his carefully cultivated reputation for being a complete bastard in the slightest.

A small gasp made him turn to where Snape stood on the teacher's podium, one hand bracing himself against his desk, the other resting on his stomach, an odd look on his face.  "Professor?" he bolted forward, wrapping an arm around the other man's waist and walking him carefully to his chair, panicking a little. "Are you ok? Should I call someone? Where does it hurt?"

Snape waved him off irritably.  "Don't be such a dramatic, Weasley," he snapped. "The baby kicked, that was all, and I was unprepared." He lowered himself carefully into his chair, shooting the other man a look that was pure Slytherin.  "Well?  I assume your offer of help extended to the entire classroom and not just three small crucibles."

Shaking his head a little in disgust, Ron set back to his task.  After a while, he risked a look out of the corner of his eye.  Snape was still sitting motionless in his chair, both hands resting on his belly, head cocked to one side as if listening for something only he could hear.  Something happened and his eyes widened, hands moving gently across his abdomen, an almost-smile quirking at the side of his mouth.

Ron let a secret smile cross his face and hastily turned his back.  Dunking a retort into the soapy water of the sink, he scrubbed vigorously.  Unfortunately he'd learned early on why cleaning spells were never used on potions utensils.  Well, Seamus had, at least. Still, his eyebrows had grown back in the end…

He deliberately didn't ask who was the father of Snape's child.  Fred had warned him against that. So had George. And Dumbledore. And Hagrid. And McGonagall, and Hooch, and Flitwick and a horde of others he'd passed on his way down to the dungeons.  Which, of course, meant the question was constantly hovering on the tip of his tongue with a burning curiosity.

"Heard anything from Harry?" he tossed out casually, not really quite sure why.  Still, maybe the school was privy to scuttlebutt he'd not heard, and any news was better than none.

Dead silence and a growing sense of gloom filled the room in answer to his question.

"I know Hermione's in a research position now," he filled the silence, hands working away.  "Haven't heard from her for a while though, with one thing and another.  Dunno what Harry's up to though, he's off in deep training or something." He drained the sink and towelled the suds from his hands.  "I think he's going for a position as an Unspe - "

The snap of a quill broke his words and he turned, seeing Snape clutching the shattered halves in his hand.  "Kindly cease from mentioning that….creature in my presence." There was no sign now of the other man he had seen almost tenderly caressing his stomach, this was Severus Snape, potions master, hateful bastard and greasy Slytherin.

There once was a time Ron would have quailed in terror before that gaze, but he was a grown man now, and had seen things in his life that made the fearsome potions master look like a mewling kitten.  It was funny how he lost his claws a bit when you knew he had no power over you.

Ron let out a low breath of anger between his teeth, then forced himself to let go.  He would have loved the chance to rip into the potions master in defence of his friend, but the other man was pregnant, and he knew better than to upset a pregnant person.  Looked Snape was still sore over how Harry saved his arse during the final battle.  He remembered one hell of row afterwards, the two of them screaming at each other and easily heard even over the sounds of battle.  Absently he rubbed the broad burn scar occupying most of his palm, his own little momento of the fight.   He'd been brave (or stupid, depending which way you looked at it) enough to grab a Death Eater's wand just as it was going off, and almost lost his hand for his troubles.   Still, better his hand than Remus' head.  He'd adopted his mother's policy. It all worked out in the end, so that was that.

Well, that was the expurgated version. After all the hysterical screaming and cries of "My poor baby!!"

Besides, what was Snape going to do, take points from the ministry?  Force him to stay back and clean the classroom in punishment?

He laughed out loud of the irony of that thought and the sound seemed to diffuse the situation a bit.  Snape was still watching him, but without the shuddering tension of before.  He looked pale though - a bit too pale and the Auror hurried up to the teacher's desk, worried that his old teacher was going to have a fainting spell.

"Here, sit down for a bit, all that standing can't be good for your feet.." Ron was the picture of solicitousness, fussing the other man into his chair, supporting him by an arm until he was safely seated.

Snape was still staring at him, but with a completely different manner to before.  Mystified was the word, completely bamboozled at the concern, as if he was expecting a completely different set of emotions to show themselves.  Poor bloke. Ron felt a sudden surge of unexpected sympathy. Couldn’t be easy for him in this condition knowing what everyone thought of him.  Then again, he did create the impression himself, so there was no one else to blame…

Then again, this was Snape! He gave his head a sharp shake. The man didn't have any soft and squishy emotions!  He lived to torment and terrify, delighting in the cruelty of others mistakes and, and….

And Ron could see now why the twins had actually come back rather subdued and without pulling a single one of their carefully planned, safe but still annoying pranks.  There was an odd vulnerability to Snape, somehow made more pathetic by the fact the man himself seemed oblivious to it.  Carefully polished unpleasant memories were melting under that vulnerability, leaving him unsure how to deal with this new man before him.

Snape's eyes finally left him, widening again and a soft sound escaping from his lips as his hand once more gently touched his belly.  By instinct, Ron found his hand following the motion, hand resting over a long fingered one, and this time to his astonishment Snape didn't pull away.

"May I?" he asked softly.

Secretly Snape was relieved. One, for the change of subject and the odd feeling that was gradually permeating the room.  Second, his baby had been incredibly active for the last half hour and he wasn't sure it was normal to feel so much movement this early on in a pregnancy.  The constant bumps from within were disconcerting, to say the least.  Of course, he covered it with his usual defence.  "Given your family's predilection for breeding like lemmings, I'm sure you know far more of the particulars of pregnancy than I could ever hope to."

Ron let the insult slide off him in a particular way he'd perfected during his seventh year, taking it as permission and knelt down in front of the chair.  Reaching up, he hesitated, then worked on a few of the buttons of the other man's coat.  He couldn't very well feel anything through something like that.

He was unsettled by the intimacy of the gesture and looked up into the other man's face.  Black eyes regarded him with the usual mixture of disdain and boredom, reminding him that this was Snape, and surprisingly making him feel a little better.

Under the frock-coat was a thin white shirt that he left untouched, reaching out and gently pressing his hand to the stretched skin underneath.  After a moment, a foot prodded softly against his palm and he grinned without a trace of embarrassment or self-consciousness. He followed the motion, tapping gently back to the infant, lost in his own world of sheer delight. It came again and he laughed, sitting back and staring at Snape's belly, complete and unaffected pleasure lighting his features.  He'd always loved kids.  "She's an active one, isn't she?" he patted the stomach under his hand gently.

Snape stared at him. "She?"  Even he didn't know the sex of his unborn child yet!

"She." Ron was the voice of authority. "Trust me on this, it's a knack. What?" he shook his head at the look of sheer disbelief on the other man's face. "I know I'm right, I called it on Percy's son Daniel before anyone else knew. And mum reckons I did the same with Ginny. Not bad considering I was what, a year old at the time?"

Snape stared at him.

"That chair isn't too good for you while you're carrying either," Ron offered off-handedly. "You should have something that supports your lower back better, maybe with a footrest, something you can put your feet up on."

Snape stared again. He had been doing that far too much of late, but then again, he was wondering what had happened to the annoying insect named Ron he'd come to loathe over the years.  He had found it increasingly uncomfortable, to tell the truth, but he would rather eat his own living feet than ask a Weasley for advice.

Thankfully Ron solved his dilemma. With a swish and flick of his wand, the severe chair was transformed into a rather comfortable looking padded affair in a deep moss green that nicely complimented the surroundings.  Surprisingly stylish for a Weasley. Severus gingerly unpried his fingers from the arms. Transfiguring a piece of furniture while it was still occupied was a tricky manoeuvre, and although mentally he realised that as an Auror Weasley would have to be competent in many forms of magic, he still saw the same grotty first year who couldn't brew a potion to save his life.

Still, it was incredibly comfortable, he had to admit.   It even had a footrest! So much better than his usual chair, supporting his back and easing the ache that plagued him everywhere of late.

Not that he would ever show it.

“How’s that? Better?”

"How dare you change my seat without asking!"  Just the right touch of righteous anger to make the other man cringe.

"Sorry Professor, " poor Weasley, he looked crushed at the reception his gift had gotten.  "I'll change it back…"

Severus' eyes widened and he clutched instinctively at the arms of the chair, although he hid it well. Lose this marvellously comfortably seat?!  "Change my chair while I'm sitting in it? I think not, Mr. Weasley.  My faith in your meagre transfiguration abilities does not stretch far enough to grant you two portions of luck.  I have no desire to be pursued and devoured by some rampant creature that was once a piece of my own furniture.  No," he settled back, trying to hide how obviously he was enjoying it.  "Leave it as it is."  And later, I'll see if Minerva can create replicas for the staffroom and my quarters...

Ron wasn't fooled in the slightest. Damn him.  He cocked his head to one side and studied Severus as one would some rare new creature.  "You're welcome, " he said simply.

"Thank you." Damn damn double damn, the boy was looking at him, in a disconcerting way that reminded him of…of...

No.

Something must have shown on his face.  Ron leaned down a little self-consciously and started to do up the buttons of Severus' coat, not meeting his gaze. "You know, you're different from what I remember," he said softly, pulling the robes closed again, returning his former teacher's dignity to him.  "You've changed."

"I know, " Snape deadpanned.  "Abysmally, I fear.  I have completely failed this year to make a single first year soil their undergarments in abject terror of me.  I blame the pregnancy." His eyes swept the classroom critically, anything to escape that damnable gaze.  "Thank you for your efforts, meagre as they are Mr. Weasley.  I think it's time you took your efforts elsewhere before you feel the urge to turn my cauldron in a bassinet. Lupin is once again a member of staff, perhaps you can see if you can turn that abominable friend Black of his into something resembling a civilised human being."

Ron's lips twitched again, then with an exaggerated hand motion he bowed at the waist, bidding Snape farewell as a true master, receiving another raised brow in return. Chortling, he left he dungeons in search of Remus and Sirius.

He wasn't completely sure why he was here - apart from the chance to laugh at Snape, never a thing to turn down - but he was glad he had come.

Who would have thought the greasy old bastard had a heart and a sense of humour buried in there?
 

Chapter Fourteen -->

All Content Copyright © 2001 Taleya Joinson
Last modified: November 12, 2010