Cheaper By The Dozen

“You call a family emergency meeting for stew?” Laura snapped. The seventeen-year-old was sitting with her arms crossed firmly over her chest Richard and Elyot on either side of her.

“Honestly, I mean I have work to do,” Tobias said from near the head of the table by Severus and Hermione. “I don’t see any blood, no one’s dead and it appears that everyone here has all of their limbs in tact, so what’s the deal, mum?”

“Hush, Toby, we need to wait for Ella to get here.” Hermione said and waved her wand at their bowls. “You can all sip on your stew while we wait.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” he muttered and then turned his gaze to his soup bowl as he father glanced his way.

“Daddy is something wrong?” Sarah asked, pushing large pieces of beef through the broth in her bowl with a knife.

“No, sweetie, everything’s fine,” Hermione quickly answered her youngest daughter before her husband had the chance to bemoan his nomination. She’d done what she thought best as soon as he’d read the letter all the way through.

There was a loud pop just outside the back kitchen door. “That’s Ella,” Hermione rose from her seat and bustled through the dining room and into the kitchen. “Oh, Ella!” she wrapped her arms around her eldest daughter and kissed her twice on each cheek.

“Mum! Is everything alright? Where’s dad? Who’s dead?”

“Oh,” Hermione sighed. “Let me take your coat, where on earth are coming from? This coat is thick its nearly 100 degrees outside!” she started to undress the girl but Ella’s flailing arms stopped her. “Sorry, come on, everyone’s gathered in the dining room, I’ve made super.”

“Oh god, you’re not pregnant again are you? Because I am not babysitting another new born until it’s my own and that is not for a long time!” Ella tossed her coat in the general direction of the coat rack, which leapt out to catch the heavy garment. “And I was coming from a business trip in the Alps, mum what’s going on?”

“Yes, mum, what’s going on?” Lucy and Laura said at the same time. Contessa just rolled her eyes.

“Everyone just sit down a minute, alright? I’ll explain everything just—” she sighed and took her seat at the side of her husband. “Richard, pull up a chair for your sister.” Hermione pushed her hair back and closed her eyes. Perhaps citing a ‘family emergency’ was not the best way to summon them all, but if she’d just requested their presence, they’d be missing at least four. “Your father has news.”

Severus turned his head to the side and stared at her for a moment, but when she did not open her eyes he sighed and turned to look back at them. 12 pairs of blinking curious eyes gazed up at him, even the twins, Peter and Jordan, were paying attention.

“Are you sick?” asked Emmaline, her nine-year-old face pouting quite sadly.

“Oh God, dad?” Lucy twisted her fists in her lap and bit her lower lip, a nasty habit she’d inherited from her mother.

“Daddy doesn’t look sick!” Sarah whined and slammed her fists down on the table, spilling a good portion of her stew onto the table, some of which leaked into her lap.

“No, Sarah, not like that,” Elyot leaned over and whispered to her, while Lucy took a napkin and began to dab at her little sister’s dress. “Like when Grandma Molly got sick,” he said and then started to stir his soup. Everyone went quiet. When Hermione’s parents had died just before the end of her last year at Hogwarts, she’d adopted Arthur and Molly as parents, though it had really been more like they had adopted her. When she married Severus and started her family they’d acted like natural grandparents to all twelve of her little children. But just two years ago Molly had passed away; a terrible bout of cancer had worn her out. It had been rough on their family, and even more so for the Weasley’s, but both families had survived if only a little bit worse for the wear.

“Is Daddy going to die?” Edward asked. He was the quietest of the Snape dozen and at six years old, Hermione was grateful for his shy demeanor.

“Daddy’s going to die?” Sarah started to cry, her face going red.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Contessa protested. “You’ve totally ruined my evening! Thanks a lot!” she stood and slammed her napkin down.

“Come off it, Tess,” Tobias sneered. “It would take a lot more than some sickness to knock off dad.”

Edward and Sarah were both in tears, and the twins had started screaming their cries as well. Contessa had nearly stormed up to her room and Laura was right behind her while Ella was knelt over Sarah trying to get her to calm down. Severus rose to his feet and bellowed nearly at the top of his lungs. “SIT DOWN!”

The room fell silent; Richard’s spoon clattering into his soup was the only resounding sound. All eyes were on Severus even Hermione who was suddenly very pale and seemingly frightened. “Everyone just sit down, Edward, Sarah, stop crying, I’m not bloody dying, Contessa, Laura get back here.”

His two daughters trotted quietly back to their seats at the table and looked down at their cooling stew. “I’m not dying,” he said sternly as he remained standing. “And I’m not sick either. I’ve just been nominated for the bloody father of the year award!”

Silence continued to pervade the room until Tobias could hold his laughter in no longer. A deep hearty chuckle rose from his son’s mouth and Hermione growled. “Toby!” she snapped. “It’s not bloody funny!”

Severus shook his head and took his seat at the head of the table, placing a calming hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Dear, it’s alright. I wish it were a joke. I’ve no desire to go and compete in this bloody thing.”

“Compete?” Lucy asked. “You have to compete in some sort of contest to win father of the year?” This spurred on a round of giggles from both Contessa and Laura. “I mean, honestly, what is it how many diapers you can change or something?” This got Ella laughing even harder than Tobias.

“That’s enough, you should be proud of your father!” Hermione sighed and held her hand to her head.

Tobias cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, mum, it’s just we go from this very terse moment, everything thinking dad’s dying and suddenly he’s not dying its just father of the year…”

“Mind you, this is all your fault, mum,” Ella chided. “If you’d just invited us all over to celebrate or share the news—”

“You wouldn’t have come.” Severus said simply. “Don’t look so smug, Tobias, you wouldn’t have come either. This family hardly behaves like one these days.” Again his words silenced the room. “Now your mother meant well, she seems to be under the notion that this is earth shattering news…” his voice trailed off as Hermione glared hotly at him, lips pursed as if she were about to hex him. “And it certainly is of great importance, it affects all of us.”

“How so?” asked Contessa.

“That’s why I called you all here together,” Hermione muttered. Severus rubbed his hand over her shoulder and she sighed softly, leaning her head against his hand.

“According to the letter which Sarah brought to me just earlier this evening, I have been nominated for the grand award of Father of the Year. I am to appear at Locked Ness Lake on August—”

“Lock Ness? Isn’t that a muggle tourist trap?” Lucy quirked a brow.

“Not Loch Ness, Locked Ness,” Severus spat. “It’s a large lake, actually very similar to Loch Ness, but it’s on the other side of the Scottish Highlands and is very much exclusive to the magical community.”

“Oh.”

“If I may continue without further interruption,” he narrowed his eyes at Lucy who looked down into her soup bowl. “My presence is required there at 9:00am on Saturday August 25— the 25th, love are you sure?” He turned his curious gaze to Hermione. “That’s bloody well two days from now.” She nodded and he sighed. “Terrific.”

“So you’re leaving on Saturday to go to some lake for a week, how does that involve us again?” Tobias asked; a bit irritated that his father had not yet gotten to the point.

“Toby! Don’t talk to your father like that!”

“I promise I’ll not talk to him like that if you stop calling me Toby! I’m 22 not 12!”

“Hey! I’m 12!” cried Richard.

“I know you are, that’s not what I meant,” Tobias said but stopped trying to explain himself as Severus cleared his throat loudly.

“The competition lasts a week and the award will be presented at a fancy dress banquet on Friday evening, August 31.” Severus had done all of this without even glancing at the letter which rested in the inside pocket of his faded gray sweat pants. Although black was still his color of choice, around the house on lazy evenings he’d take his soft gray pants over his stiff black robes any day of the week.

Hermione smiled and gave her husband’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You should all be very proud of your father.”

“Thank you, dear,” he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Now, as you are all dying to know how this effects you, since I can never have anything that is solely for or about me…the award nomination committee states that all offspring of said nominee must be present from the start of the competition to the end as they are a vital part of the competition process.”

“What?” Contessa shouted. “You’re joking! I can’t go spend a week with you guys! I’ve got friends! I’ve got a life!”

“Your life is this family young lady!” Hermione snapped.

“But mum!”

“No ifs, ands, or buts, young lady,” Severus interrupted.

“But mum—”

“Did you not just hear your father? No buts!”

Ella had nearly choked on her goblet of water and was wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “Well that’s all well and nice, but that little arrangement is going to have to be amended. I have work and simply won’t be able to go.”

“Me too,” Tobias added in. “I can’t just willy-nilly drop and take a week off without any notice. Count me out.”

“If they don’t have to go, then I don’t have to go!” Contessa shouted and crossed her arms over her chest, not even caring that she’d spilled soup all over the table.

“We’re not going!” Jordan and Peter said in unison and then crossed their arms over their chests, mimicking their older sister.

“As if!” Laura spat. “I’ve got Quidditch practice and besides, if Tess doesn’t have to go then neither do I!”

“You’re all going!” Severus bellowed quieting the fuss once more. “You’re all going and that’s final. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I don’t care about Quidditch practice, it can wait. You can have friends and a life all you want, this family is your first life, and are committed to it above all else!”

“I’m sorry, dad, but I just can’t take off work,” Tobias said and shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, don’t even worry about it, sweetheart.” Hermione smiled a bit. “I owled the ministry when your father broke the news to me and I explained the situation to them. They were more than happy to give you this coming week off.”

Tobias’ jaw dropped his eyes going wide as he stared in utter disbelief at his mother. “But—”

“Guess you’re going,” Ella smirked.

“Don’t go getting so smug, Ella. I met with your boss by floo shortly after I got my owl about Tobias. You’re also off next week and will be attending with us.”

Tobias smirked. “Guess you’re going.”

“Everyone is going and that’s final.” Severus said and stabbed his fork into the stew, pulling out a huge hunk of pinkish brown beef, and thrusting it into his mouth.

Dinner continued in silence until all bowls were empty. Hermione helped Peter and Jordan down from their chairs and took them, with Sarah and Edward upstairs to get ready for a bath and bed. Emmaline, Richard, and Elyot all left the table silently and went up to their rooms, followed by a very moody Contessa, Laura, and Lucy. The table was cleared except for Severus and his two eldest children.

“Congrats, I guess.” Tobias said and nodded at his father before getting up from the table, moving through kitchen and exiting with a harsh pop.

Ella sighed, but did not look at her father. A long silence hung between them. He could hear Hermione’s voice from upstairs. “Emmaline! Get your bath! Use the downstairs bathroom; I need to finish up with the twins!”

“Aren’t you going to go upstairs and help your mother?”

Her pale green eyes gazed up at him and she frowned. “I don’t live here anymore, dad. I moved out three years ago when I finished University. This isn’t my house, this isn’t my—”

“We’ll always be your family, whether or not you want us to be, Ella.”

“—life.” She sighed. “I know you’re my family, all thirteen of you. But it’s not my life anymore. I have a boyfriend, an apartment, and a good paying job. I’m not a babysitter, despite having many baby brothers and sisters. It’s great that they want you to be named father of the year, you’re a wonderful dad, always were, but I don’t think we should have to be there to help you prove that.” She stood from the table and moved to grab her coat in the kitchen.

“If you believed that, Ella, you wouldn’t be so upset about this.” He called after her, but by the time he’d gotten up and into the kitchen, she’d stepped out the backdoor and apparated to her apartment. Severus sighed and moved back into the dining room. With a careless wave of his wand he sent the dishes to the sink. Rolling up his sleeves, and tucking his wand into his sweatpants, Severus filled the sink with hot soapy water and began to wash the dishes.