See Snape. See Snape Run. Run, Snape, Run.

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“Oh Severus, who have you done now?”

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Snape was silent for a few beats while formulating an appropriate response to such a potentially incriminating question, an unusual reaction, as any Slytherin worth his sneer is usually counted upon to make at least a general statement malleable enough to be twisted into whatever suitable lie he concocts given ample time. Under the circumstances, however, Snape might be forgiven for his sub par obfuscation, considering that his disorientation was not an uncommon side effect of travel across classrooms by Longbottom Airlines (“We don’t know when, we don’t know how, we don’t know why, but we’ll get you there”). Hermione took advantage of the pause to cast a discreet diagnostic spell and slowly increase the distance between herself and Snape, which, while not overtly suspicious, was still far closer than the minimum necessary for shouting most were comfortable with in their dealings with the dungeon bat.

“Headmaster, I’m not entirely sure what you’re trying to insinuate-”

Dumbledore cut him off with a wave of his hand (which happened to put out the torch above Snape in the process) and a sigh (though small in volume) that held within it all the pain and weariness of Atlas himself.

“Save the explanation, Severus. I must go sort out your students at the moment, but when I come back, we’re going to have a long discussion concerning your recent behavior.”

The headmaster blinked, shook his head, and then refocused his slightly muddled attention on the girl kneeling next to Snape.

“Good morning, Ms. Granger.”

“Good morning, Headmaster,” Hermione’s response was polite but a bit cautious. Dumbledore seemed not to notice as he turned back to the gaggle of students huddling in the doorway, and stepped over the desk-and-door-splinter-puddle, ushering the crowd down the hall in the process.

Hermione waited for the sounds of the migrating pupils to fade before turning back to her prone companion.

“Well, that was certainly close. Do you think he’s figured us out?”

“Unless he’s a daft, blind, old fool. Then most likely not. And just what were you on about, shouting my name in the middle of class like some bloody lovesick bimbo?” Snape grimaced. Hermione was fully prepared to counter with a scathing appraisal of Snape’s teaching methods when the small being in his lap chose to rejoin the discussion by wriggling a head and a hand out from his torn clothing. Snape turned the sneer on the creature, and extracted him from his robes to hold him perusal level. Black eyes met brown as pale, aristocratically featured Potions Master and red, horned, tailed infant examined each other. After a short interval, the imp, apparently reaching a decision favorable for Snape, curled his tail around the professor’s right wrist.

“He looks like a baby demon,” Hermione gazed upon the little devil with considerable interest.

“Tell me, was it the tail, or the alarmingly Gryffindor complexion?” Alas, Snape’s implied belittlement concerning Hermione’s House and intellect (a favorite pastime of his) went unnoticed, for she had fallen under the near Imperio- a strong curse all females are subject to when presented with a screaming, drooling, defecating, inarticulate bundle of need.

“Isn’t he adorable?” Her voice lacked its usual precision and clarity of thought, which prompted Snape to come as close to gaping as was possible for him. He looked from the decidedly novel-looking infant to the (alleged) Most Brilliant Witch Hogwarts Has Seen in an Age in mild bewilderment.

“Are you feeling well? Any headache, nausea, hallucinations?”

“You’re a cute one, yes you are!” she cooed, and Snape appeared to be sick. “Oh, you poor thing! You must be freezing!” She cast a spell diapering the baby in a neatly tied white nappy. Snape watched with suspicion.

“I thought you said you weren’t pregnant…”

“I’m not, but it never hurts to be prepared.”

“You always-“

“Ma?” The mini fiend gazed up at the man holding him with an expression that held much potential at becoming a cocked eyebrow.

“You must be mistaken, little one. I’ve never fathered anything, much less a baby as…unique… as yourself,” Snape sneered in disgust at the unearthly infant he held at arms length, but the tiny creature merely giggled.

“Severus, I believe that was a nasal phoneme rather than alveolar. He clearly considers you his maternal parent,” Hermione grinned as Snape emitted a refined snort.

“Come off it.”

“Perhaps there were lasting side effects from that gender-switching potion we tried a couple weeks ago. Are you feeling more feminine?”

“You tell me; you’re down there more often than I am.”

“Though generally not for the purposes of finding a vagina.”

“Mama?”

“There! He did it again. Congratulations, Severus. I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful mother.”

“I hate to derail your amusement, but would it be possible for you to focus that vast intellect on helping me determine where this thing originated?” Snape began to rotate the baby in search of clues; if they were lucky, there could be a note pinned to it somewhere.

“Da?” The hell-child was now staring at Hermione in an expectant manner.

“Sorry, little one. I’m afraid you’re a bit confused.” She started tickling the baby, causing him to squirm in Snape’s hands.

“Oh, that’s productive-“

“Ahem,” Dumbledore cleared his throat from the doorway in one of his trademark sudden and timely appearances. He studied the trio for a brief moment before letting out a sigh even more epic in volume and gravity than the last. Snape made a valiant attempt at salvaging the situation.

“Headmaster, Ms. Granger was just aiding me in caring for this-“

“Severus.” Dumbledore let a moment of reflection and dread pass before continuing. “I haven’t been this disappointed in you since you showed up at my doorstep with that ridiculous tattoo. How could you abuse my trust, and put the welfare of the students in your care beneath your own selfish desires?”

Snape looked somewhat guilty at the accusation and remained silent, so Hermione stepped up to his defense.

“Headmaster, Severus and I share equal blame in this relationship. I don’t consider myself wronged in any way because of it, so I think-”

“Good morning, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore looked at her with surprise through his spectacles.

“Headmaster?”

Dumbledturnturned back to Snape, seemingly oblivious. Snape drew the infant closer to his chest while exchanging a subtle glance of confusion with Hermione.

“As I’m most likely correct in assuming the creature you’re holding is your Eventum de Concubitus, we should make arrangements for you to sponsor counseling for the unfortunate young woman- or man- which-”

“Albus, this is no child of mine!” Sensing his fate was being debated, the tiny demon shifted in Snape’s arms to observe the strange white-beardezardzard conversing with his parents.

“Of course it is, my boy! Says right on the paper I have in my office for that very purpose. I don’t know why you’re putting up such resistance; you knew I would find out, after all.”

“What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” The child decided that the discussion was not as interesting as it had promised to be, and went back to drooling on Snape’s robes, with the professor too busy glaring at the Headmaster to notice.

“The Intactilis spell of course. Or have you not reviewed your teacher handscroll recently?” After his query and while walking toward Snape, Dumbledore became distracted by the baby, and began making cooing sounds eerily similar to Hermione’s. “He certainly is very…red, Severus. Not a bad color, if I may say so. Are those horns…”

Hermione seized the opportunity granted by the Headmaster’s inattention, and whispered furiously to Snape. “What did he mean by Intactilis spell?”

“Bugger all if I know. I didn’t read the blasted thing! It was longer than your midterm of last semester,” Snape managed a triple-victim scowl as he hissed back.

“Could you enlighten me as to why not?” Hermione held her own in returning a glower.

“I only felt it necessary to check over it for any clauses concerning the forfeiting of my soul or first-born and then sign it. What else of importance could I have expected to be in there?”

“Obviously, there was at least one thing!”

“Well clearly it wasn’t of such significance that you as Official Know-It-All would-”

“As I was saying, Severus, about the spell,” Dumbledore brought his attention to Snape. “This beautiful and fashionable baby is the direct consequence of your indiscretion within the last nine months with at least one student enrolled at Hogwarts this year. Of course there will be more if you’ve played the field, so to speak, but this particular creature is now your responsibility. His behavior toward you will reflect your relationship with the student, whoever he or she may be, and I must warn you of the severe consequences of mistreating said student beyond what you’ve already done.”

“Consequences?”

“Oh yes. There’ve been several Eventum de Concubiti throughout Hogwarts history that have eaten the offending staff.” Dumbledore fished a lemon-drop out of his robes and gave it to the little brute. Snape eyed the infant holding the sweet with some wariness, and moved him away from his chest slightly.

“Are there any other effects of this spell, Headmaster?” Hermione asked.

“No, I don’t think so. The Founders decided that pub public humiliation, threat of devouring, and permanent reminder of the affair were punishment enough.”

“How effective has that been? It doesn’t seem to be very practical, sir.”

Snape was too engrossed in the conversation to notice his child’s dissatisfaction with the lemon-drop and attempt to find something a bit more substantial. He absentmindedly pulled the squirming child closer, and missed the rather mischievous grin of his offspring.

“That’s true, Miss Granger, but the ways of the Founders are mysterious indeed-”

“Aaargh!” Snape let loose a howl of expletives in several languages as the demon baby bit down on his left nipple. He removed the parasite as expeditiously as possible without causing further damage, and shoved him at Hermione.

“You’re female, you take this satanic monster!”

“Me? Right now I’m just about as likely to start lactating as you are!” Hermione held the laughing boy well away from any threatened areas. “Oh, look! He has your teeth! Perhaps he follows family tradition and drinks blood.”

“This will be a difficult time for you, Severus. Adjusting and all. I remember when I’d just received my own Eventum-”

“You had an affair with a student?!” Hermione and Snape turned as one to stare in shock at the Headmaster.

“Yes, not my finest moment. But she was such a lovely girl…”

“Ahem, sir, if you don’t mind me asking, what was the form of your punishment?” Hermione asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from the love life of one of the most venerable father figures she knew. Dumbledore appeared to consider the question as he wound his beard in his fingers.

“Hmmmm. There was something about… Filius…”

“Professor Flitwick was your Eventum de Concubitus?”

“No, my dear. Filius and Rolanda are expecting. I must remember to announce that at lunch today. My apologies, I didn’t catch your question.”

“That child will desperately need hair dye and have to use a toothpick to play Quidditch.” Snape smirked, and Hermione aimed a kick at his shins in response.

“Ow!” The tiny red bundle gazed raptly at the pained expression of his brand new parental figure and emitted a promising attempt at snickering. Hermione repeated her inquiry to the Headmaster, ignoring Snape.

“My own was Fawkes, and I consider him to be a blessing rather than a curse. I will never forget the love of the latter half of my life…”

“A bird that shits brimstone, sheds ashes, and never dies. I’d say that’s fairly severe castigation.” Hermione kicked Snape again in the same leg.

“What happened if you don’t mind me asking, sir?”

“She caught me with the cute knobby coat rack in my office. I’d forgotten my spectacles that day.”

“In the name of all that is holy and good, tell me you didn’t hear what I heard, Severus,” Hermione looked to Snape for some sort of assurance, but he merely took time out of rubbing his ankle to appear sick.

“My gods. I’ve used that coat rack.”

“I believe that was about the same time that Fawkes brought me my first lemon drop…” Dumbledore’s eyes misted over in remembrance.

“Excuse me, Headmaster. Would you like to hold the- umm- baby?” Hermione passed the crimson terror to Dumore.ore.

Silence permeated the dungeons for the first time since the beginning of class as Dumbledore was preoccupied with the infant, and the infant engrossed in pulling on his beard.

Snape broke the peace with a rather pensive, “I’m not ready to be a father.”

“Or mother…” Hermione couldn’t resist teasing him, but matched his serious tone when she continued. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’re resourceful; you’ve got plenty of experience with children, when you’re not eating them of course…”

“…Siegfried the Sullen had a giant naked mole rat with psoriasis…” Dumbledore interjected, though no one but the baby took any notice.

“Have you given any more thought to what I asked yesterday?” Snape asked, his voice a tad less smooth than usual.

“About the floral set? I really don’t think it’s really your style, if you know what I mean.”

“Not that! I was talking about our situation… making it a bit more…permanent.”

“Oh. Severus, I don’t know about…well…I don’t think I’m prepared at this stage in my life to tho those sorts of decisions. I wasn’t expecting…” She trailed off apologetically.

“Does that mean you won’t marry me?”

“…hippopotamus with rickets…”

“I was under the impression that it was a heat of the moment thing, like the rest you were screaming last night …”

“I meant it,” Snape actually sounded rather hurt. “So you were just using me for sex?”

“What? No, of course not-”

“Then it wasn’t good enough for you?” If it had been in the realm of remote possibility, Hermione would have admitted to witnessing Severus Snape’s thin, pale lower lip tremble to match the suspicious sheen of his eyes.

“Yes, no, I- but I’m not- I love you, you big tit! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Hormones, Ms. Granger.” Dumbledore finally re-entered the discussion.

Snape scoffed at the Headmaster, incredulous. “You’re daft.”

“Severus, you’ve just given birth to the child you carried for nine months. Though entirely magical in nature, it still is quite a bit of stress on you.”

“You have been very moody recently. No wait, that’s normal.”

“Severus, I believe it’s high time you name this charming little son of yours.” Dumbledore beamed at the boy in question, who was beginning to seem uncomfortable. Hermione latched on to the change in topic with enthusiasm.

“I agree, Headmaster. Have you any ideas?”

Snape was dissatisfied, but didn’t press the issue. “I’ve always been partial to Adolph.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? It’s a family title. There were at least three Adolphus’s and two of the shortened form before that mad little tosser had to ruin the name.”

“No. Anything else traditionally Snape-ish?”

“I remember Minnie the Mendicant named her elephant with perpetual colic and separation anxiety Wibbles.” Sadly, Dumbledore’s example went ignored. The as-yet unnamed baby struggled in the Headmaster’s grip and began to whimper.

“Genghis?”

“No.”

“Fidel?”

“No.”

“… Crumple-Horned Snorkack…invisibility…”

“Nero?”

“No!”

“Vladimir?”

“No. Good lord, your family has horrible taste in names!”

“Don’t blame me. At least your initials aren’t a hiss when sounded aloud. Caligula?”

“A possibility. As long as his middle name is something noble like ‘Aurelius’.”

“Wonderful. Our child now has large shoes to fill as the mad philosopher.”

Hermione was prevented from retorting by the commotion as the possibly-named Caligula Aurelius Snape answered the call of nature with style, setting afire both the garment clothing him and the Headmaster’s beard.

“Oh, look, he has your pyromaniacal tendencies!” Snape admired his son’s talent with amusement.

“We’ll have to ask Mrs. Weasley where she acquired those non-flammable nappies,” Hermione sighed as she attempted to extinguish the flames, by which neither Dumbledore nor Caligula seemed very affected or concerned.

“…leech…flatulence…”

“This is all your fault, you know.” Snape remarked, off-handedly.

“It takes two to violate the code of student-teacher relations.”

“You started it!”

“You fell on me, you great git!”

“You tripped me!”

“...great horny toad with the clap…”

“You fell over my bag, around which you had no trouble navigating for the past six years, because you were trying to look down my shirt! And you assigned the detention in the first place!”

“You provoked me.”

“I BLINKED! No normal person would ever consider that a punishable offense!”

“That was your five thousandth blink of the school year. You were guilty of excessive blinking in my class. It was highly annoying to witness such a gross misuse of facial muscles.”

“…nundu with whooping cough…”

“It didn’t occur to you that half the time I was protecting my eyes from Longbottom toxic waste?”

“I had thought you’d be capable of preventing that boy from causing too much damage. Clearly, I was mistaken. And it’s hardly my fault that you chose to take advantage of me under the circumstances.”

“Severus, for some reason, having you come shouting ‘centaur urine’ when I accidentally touch you whilst trying to regain the ability to breathe was not high on my list of detention fantasies.”

“…dog-sized boll weevil with the chicken pox…”

“As if the Gordian knot atop your head were irresistible.”

“As long as we’re discussing faults, you should know that holding the record for the shortest point and shoot time of a male over thirteen is not something to take pride in.”

Snape wouldn’t have looked more hurt if she’d physically struck him. “You promised never to bring that up again.”

“Only with the provision that you’d cease mocking my hair, an agreement which you’ve just broken.”

“Ahem.” The Headmaster apparently decided that the conversation had gone on long enough, and managed to appear official and dignified even though the fire had spread to the ring of hair around his bald spot in a halo effect. “Ms. Granger, you should rejoin your classmates before lunch. Severus, let’s get you and the little one settled in. We can put him in that nursery in near the Hospital Wing during classes, and get a house elf to watch over him…”

The Headmaster exited the classroom still planning. Hermione and Snape followed, Snape whispering in her ear as he held the remains of the door open for her. “We aren’t finished discussing this…”

“We haven’t used it since Filch had his cat.” The Headmaster’s voice echoed down the hallway. Snape and Hermione winced.

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