Custody Battle

“I just think that you should apologize,” she fussed from behind the closed door. Severus found himself once again seated at the kitchen table of the Davonshire household, eyeing little Emma who was sprawled across the floor with at least a dozen dolls all around her.

“He should be the one apologizing!”

“Blake! You decked him in the nose!”

“He kissed you, Hermione!”

“I told you, it was an accident! He just—”

“I don’t like him here. I don’t think he should be a part of it.”

“How can you say that?” she shrieked. “He’s Caterina’s father! You always knew she wasn’t yours!”

“Yes, but I also thought that I knew that her biological father was dead! He can’t just trump into the picture eleven years later and demand custody, all of the sudden claiming he wants to be a part of her life!”

“Blake!”

He sighed. Why he’d agreed to come and see her was beyond him, though he supposed it had to do with the feeling that perhaps it would be best for Caterina’s two fathers to at least be on speaking terms.

“You can’t tell me that eleven years later he just decides that its time to be a father and you’re ok with that!”

“He didn’t know!” she shouted.

“What?”

“I said he didn’t know.” Then their voices fell to whispers, muffled through the door, and he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. But his attention was soon drawn up by the seven-year-old, who appeared in the kitchen doorway, cracking a piece of Drooble’s best blowing gum rather loudly against her teeth.

“That’s all they do anymore.” She said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Mum and dad,” she pointed to the closed door that led into the front sitting room. He could hear their voices rising. “They fight mostly about you, sometimes about Cat, but mostly about you.” She shrugged her shoulders “Are you going to take Cat away?”

Severus tilted his head to the side. “I certainly do not intend to.”

“Cause if she goes? I want to go too.”

He frowned. “Caterina isn’t going anywhere,” he assured her.

“She told me who you are.”

“Oh did she?” an almost worried look crossed over his face.

“Yeah, Cat says you’re her real daddy and that daddy is just sort of daddy, but she likes you better because you teach her stuff about magic. She says daddy doesn’t understand magic, and he doesn’t like it, and that’s why you’re her real daddy.” The girl paused and cracked her gum. “She looks like you.”

He was silent, and before he was forced to respond to the younger girl’s notions, the door to the front room came open and Hermione stormed from it, tears in her eyes. “Severus, my husband has something to say to you,” she said through gritted teeth, fighting back the tears.

Blake looked less than pleasant as he approached hand drawn out to the brunette. “I’m sorry about knocking you in the conk, no hard feelings,” he said as if someone was twisting his arm to say it.

“None taken, and my apologies for the episode with your wife.” He shook the other’s hand and both recoiled quickly as if the other’s touch had burned them.

With a deep breath, Hermione composed herself. “Jocelyn, take Emma upstairs,” she ordered and waited until her two daughters had left the kitchen before setting tea cups for three. “I think we can make this work, we just need to do some sorting.”

Blake looked furious, his eyes wild and wide at Hermione as she gathered the tea cups. “Make it work? Hon, we’re a family. This man is— is— he’s nobody. So he donated a sperm to the creation of your oldest daughter, the daughter I love and have always treated like my own, hell, she is my own, I love her, and have ever since the day I met you.”

“Stop it, Blake,” she hissed. “He may not have raised her but he’s still her father.”

“Biologically but she can’t call him dad.”

“She can if she wants to, who are you to tell her what she can and cannot call him?”

“Him is still in the room,” Severus sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Hermione’s face flushed pink and she turned her back to him, fixing the teapot to the stovetop and with a swish of her wand it was bubbling on its way to a boil.

“Sorry,” she muttered and slammed the teacup down in front of Severus, an apologetic look flitting across her face.

“You shouldn’t apologize, Mrs. Davonshire,” he said, gazing into the teacup, waiting for the water. “I thought perhaps it might be best if I just go, we could arrange the holiday ordeal via owl, or another meeting another time.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, taking the kettle from the stove and filling their cups with hot water. “We’ll settle the holiday arrangements now.”

“Holiday arrangements?” Blake asked, completely ignoring his tea.

“Oh don’t you start,” she snapped and sat down.

“What’s there to arrange? She’s coming home for Christmas, end of story.”

“Blake!” Hermione shouted.

“No, it’s alright, honestly, she doesn’t have to spend Christmas with me, I’ll have her right up until she leaves for the holiday anyhow. I’m certain that dropping by for a visit at some point during the duration of the holiday should be acceptable.”

“Severus, that’s hardly fair,” she shook her head. Narrowing her eyes at her husband she leaned closer to him. “You said you wouldn’t make a big deal out of this!”

“I’m not making a big deal out of it. There’s nothing to make, you heard him yourself, he said she doesn’t have to be with him—”

“Blake!” her eyes were furious, swimming with a rage as she sipped her tea in one quick and heavy gulp. “He’s her father for crying out loud!”

“And where does that put me? Chopped liver? I’m her father, Hermione, I raised her, he’s a sperm donor!”

“Blake!”

Severus rose from the table. “I think I shall take my leave.”

“Good,” Blake spat.

“Severus!” she moved to go after him as he stalked down the hallway to the front foyer. “Urgh! Blake, you aren’t helping matters!” Her steps were hurried as he grabbed his arm at the front door. “Severus, wait! Please.”

“Hermione, it’s clear that I’m upsetting him,” he pulled his arm back. “Perhaps we can meet at another time when you’ve had some more time to discuss these options with your husband.”

“No, Severus, please, you’re just as important as he is when it comes to Caterina and I think that—”

“Let him go, Hermione!” Blake called from the kitchen.

Severus waved his hand in the general direction of her husband’s voice. “See? He wants me to go, so I shall.”

“But Severus—”

“No buts, Hermione,” he said and reached to brush a strand of her hair back from her face.

As he came storming up the hall, Blake’s eyes narrowed at Severus’ hand against his wife’s face. He held his temper only long enough to push past them, disappear out the side door and cup his hands to his mouth. “Benjamin! Eric! Let’s go!”

Hermione’s eyes flew wide and she stormed out after him. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m taking Ben and Eric to the park, our two sons? You know, half the kids that I donated sperm to?” But before she could whip out her wand to hex him or shout a string of foul words at him her two boys came running around the corner from the backyard.

“Mummy!” They cried.

“Boys!” and she bent, scooping them both up. “Oh, Eric,” she kissed his forehead. “Ben…” and she kissed him too. “You boys be good for daddy at the park, ok?”

“You’re not going, mummy?” Eric asked.

“No, sweetey, mummy has to stay here and watch Emma.”

“Can’t Emma go too?” asked the other.

“Not today, sweetey, just you, your brother, and daddy.” Handing her boys over to her husband she sighed and closed her eyes tightly as he fastened them into their car seats, hopped in and drove off. A heavy sigh escaped her but it quickly turned into a sob. She felt herself stumbling back and surely she should have fallen to the ground, but instead found a firm warmth at her back, two strong arms around her.

“Easy, Hermione,” he said, and helped her up again, turning her around to face him.

“Oh, Severus!” she sobbed, and thrust her head forward against his chest, sniffling, and quaking. Not wanting to cause a scene or be spotted by any of her potentially meddlesome neighbors, he guided her into the house and back to the kitchen, setting her down in front of the still warm tea.

“You picked a right wanker of a husband,” he said, and poured her cup full again, taking a long sip of his own.

“He— he— he means well, and I love him, I do, and I know he loves me, it’s just—” her sniffling and sobbing overtook her words. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this!”

“Shh,” he said, standing beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “There’s no sense in crying over it. What’s done is done. She’s eleven now…” he said softly, a hand moving idly through her hair.

Her teary eyes gazed up at him. “You’re going to ruin my marriage,” she sobbed. “And you don’t mean to, it’s not your fault, but— but—” and another sob claimed her body. Hermione buried her face against his ribs, sobbing and shaking, all the while one hand stroked through her hair, the other guided her shoulder into his body, trying to act in a comforting manner toward her.

“You’ve got to stop crying, Hermione, all these tears aren’t going to make things any better.”

“You shouldn’t have to—”

“Stop.” He said. “We’ll work this out. If he wants her home for Christmas, she can be home for Christmas, I’ve missed ten thus far, what’s one more…” he said, his voice sad and somber.

“No, no. It shouldn’t have to be like that,” her voice was cracking as she tried to fight back the tears. He sighed, arguing with her wasn’t going to help the situation any, and so he remained quiet, simply stroking her hair, hardly realizing he was doing it, until she’d calmed herself. They’d made arrangements to meet the up coming Friday to discuss the progress on the holiday plans, and he’d left with a carefully placed hug and a rather curt goodbye.

~*~

Thursday evening had Severus in a foul mood as he left the staff lounge, the first one to up and bolt from his chair after the staff meeting. He’d fallen behind on his grading, spending most of the time, corresponding heavily by owl with Hermione about possible options for the holidays, as well as attempting to keep his lesson plans on track. He had never been one to be long winded, but found that the longer their correspondence persisted, the lengthier his responses tended to be.

With a wave of his wand the door to his office was blasted open from the corridor and a tiny shriek from inside had him practically leaping through the doorway only to put a scowl on his lips. “What are you doing here?” Crossing his arms over his chest, he pushed the door shut and moved over to his desk, where Caterina sat, both feet tucked under her bottom in his chair.

“I’ve made a decision and I needed to tell you because mummy won’t listen.” She said.

Severus paused for a moment, eyeing the time piece across his office, curfew was in ten minutes so he could not yet yell at her for being out of bed and send her packing. “And what, pray tell, is this decision that you’ve made?” he asked, coming around behind his desk and jostling the chair a bit.

She stood, standing as tall as she could while he sat down in his chair and gazed at her, carefully watching the way she placed both hands on her hips, as he might imagine Hermione doing when she found that she had something important and know-it-all-ish to say. “I don’t want to spend Christmas with mummy and Blake.” She said firmly.

He was shocked to hear the man’s given name leave her lips but before he could correct her, she barreled on. “I want to spend Christmas with you.”

“Now Caterina, you can’t—”

“You didn’t let me finish!” she stomped her foot loudly and his brows shot to the top of his forehead, eyes wide, mouth agape at her sudden tantrum like outburst. “I want to spend Christmas with you. And I want to spend Christmas with mummy. I want to spend Christmas with the two of you together.”

Closing his eyes for a moment he considered her request. “Caterina, that is a very selfish wish of you,” he said.

“I’ve already thought that through, daddy,” she countered and then moved toward him. “I’ve discussed this with Emma Weasley, and she says—”

Severus groaned. “A Weasley idea is a dangerous thing indeed.”

“She said you might say that,” the girl continued, determined to finish her plan as she’d mapped it out. “Now, Emma said that if I wanted to spend Christmas with you and mummy that I had to think about all the reasons why it wouldn’t work, so that I could come up with a way to make sure it did. And the first thing she told me was that it was selfish to want you and mummy and me to be together for Christmas because of Jocelyn, Ben, Eric, and Emma.”

“Yes because if your mother and I are with you, who’s with your brothers and sisters?”

“Blake, but Emma said that I should suggest that we all spend Christmas together as one big family that way mummy can be with all of us and I can be with you and mummy, and not be selfish at the same time.”

Severus couldn’t help but snort.

“Don’t laugh! It isn’t funny, daddy.”

His face turned to impassive stone once more. “Continue,” he motioned to her with his hand. “And make it quick, curfew’s about to set in and don’t think that I won’t hesitate to take points from you…”

She nodded. “I want to spend Christmas with you and mummy, but the only way to do that is to have you spend Christmas with mummy and Blake so that mummy is with everyone and I’m with you and mummy.” She paused a moment. “And there is a spare bedroom, they use it when dad— Blake’s sister comes to visit.” She said. “Its in the basement, but it’s pretty big because Aunt Diana is married with three kids.”

He sat in silent contemplation for a moment. “And you’ve run all this by your mother?”

She bowed her head. “I tried to tell her that I wanted to be with you and her for Christmas, but she wouldn’t listen. So you have to tell her.”

With a glance toward the time piece he nodded. “I will think about it, Caterina, but now it is time for you to get up to Gryffindor Tower, unless you want me to take off house points?”

She shook her head, and scurried toward the door. “Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“Make sure you spend Christmas with me and mummy,” she whispered and then blew him a kiss. “Love you,” and before he could respond, she’d dipped out the door and into the shadowy corridor.