Snapey Went A Courting

Snapey Went A Courting

It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don’t recognize.

Chapter Three

How to Handle Hermione


Snape fixed himself a very strong pot of tea. He was going to have to devise a strategy for getting the young Witch to marry him. To do that, he’d try to understand what exactly had gone on.

Much to Snape’s embarrassment, he’d quite forgotten their foray into hot Muggle love. He wondered if that might have been the reason Hermione had not come to him later. Perhaps she was upset that he had not sought her out. Lupin said she didn’t want a father for their child. Had this been the reason for the Witch being so cold as to not inform him of her pregnancy?

Snape wasn’t very good at putting himself into the shoes of Witches. He simply didn’t understand them. But, if he were to gain his objective, he’d need to do so. Struck by sudden inspiration, Snape went and took the tablecloth off of the small table that he used for dining. He wrapped it around his waist. Now he was prepared to pretend that he was a certain young Witch.

“I am Hermione Gra.” H.” He pronounced in a falsetto. “I was a top student at Hogwarts. I am not an empty-headed moron like my friends, but I do get into trouble because I am a little monkey.”

Snape nodded. Yes, he felt he was on the right track to understanding the Mudblood girl. He took a mincing step.

“It is the night of the victory over Voldemort. I see that my brilliant professor who saved my life at great personal risk and peril is not at the party.makemake inquiries and decide to find him. Obviously, I have a crush on my professor.”

Snape frowned. Students never got crushes on him. Even Flitwick and Argus Filch in their day had had one or two students fall in love with them. But never him. Still, she had be ver very odd child and her behavior that night proved that, against all logic and reason, she had tender nay, even passionate, feelings for him. How tragic for her, he thought – caught in the grips of unrequited love.

“I seduce my professor by forcing him onto the ground and grabbing his privates.”

Snape stopped again. Was that how it happened? He couldn’t remember. Did he fuck her? Perhaps he should use a pensieve, but really, what did it matter how it happened. did.did. Saccius was proof of that. So…

“I discover that I am pregnant and I decide not to tell my lover what has happened. I do this because… because…”

Snape thought about it. He paced up and down his chambers several times.

“I do not tell him, because— I am afraid that he will reject me. I am only a lowly Mudblood who set out and succeeded in taking advantage of his pure blooded noble body. I am deeply ashamed of myself for my lack of self-control. So I remove myself from the Wizarding world in order that he doesn’t find out my base condition.”

Snape smiled. Yes. She’s terrified of me. And not without good reason. Foolish girl.

“In spite of being a Gryffindor I am clever, but I lack the Slytherin ability to be cunning. So I resign myself to being a fallen women living in exile.”

Hmm, thought Snape, but then she refuses Potter and Lupin. Why? Ah.

“Because I am a Gryffindor I quite stupidly choose to not drag down any other Wizards.

“Yes.” Snape gleefully removed the tablecloth and threw it onto the table. “Now, to rehearse ide.ide. I must go to Miss Granger and reassure the girl that I will hold nothing against her. I shall not be angry or sullen. I shall promise her that although I will be a strict husband and father, I am also a kind, no, no, I’m not kind, I mustn’t make promises I shan’t keep.” He sat down with his legs sprawled out before him. Suddenly, he jumped up.

“Just! Yes, that I am a just man. She has nothing to fear from me. I will never beat her or the boy without proper cause.”

“Miss Granger. No, no first name basis is better-- need to get her used to that.” Snape atted aed a charming smile and it came out somewhere between a leer and a grimace. The shepherd in one of the paintings on his wall began throwing up behind a bush.

“Hermione,” he said obsequiously. “My dear child-- no, girl, no, woman, errr. Lady? Witch. My dear Witch,” he hissed. “You need not tremble in fear of me nor blush in your shame. You had needs, needs? Do Witches have needs? No that’s absurd. Try again.

“As Icarus flew too near the sun, you admired me from a distance and then found the wax melting from your wings. Ooooh. That’s good. I must write that one down.

“And you fell into a ocean of sorrow and disgrace.” Snape practiced the last word a few times to get just the right intonation.

“But know this, sweet Witch. I do not hold your accident of birth against you. Mudblood you may be, but to me you are merely a Muggleborn.

“Oh, do not weep in gratitude. I understand your travails and shall sweep you and dear little Saccius away from this dreadful place. No, no, no need to thank me, your dutiful performance as wife and mother to my child is all the recompense I shall ever require.”

Snape rubbed his hands together. Yes, that should do the trick. He’d bring presents for his son and for Hermione a bauble or two befitting her future position as Mrs. Snape and a Witch of leisure. She will be overjoyed and relieved to know that her little failing had turned out all right in the end.

He sat down and, dipping a freshly sharpened quill in ink, began his shopping list.

&&&

Hermione was miserable. Waldo wouldn’t latch on. All he did was sleep. And her stitches itched and her body ached all over.

It was his fault. He’d ruined her perfect, natural childbirth. And now she was stuck in a Muggle hospital with a baby who wouldn’t nurse and an incision which hurt and itched and Madam Pomfrey could have healed in just seconds if she could just go to the Medi-witch.

But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? She couldn’t go back to the Wizarding world. She just couldn’t.

Nor could she prove that Rita Skeeter had been behind it all.

The smear campaign! Almost the entire Wizarding world was up in arms against Hermione because she had organized the House Elves into a Union for Domestic Workers. They had rights now. The problem was that only 42 Elves out of Merlin knows how many had actually voted to have a Union and now there were hundreds? Thousands? Maybe Millions of Very Discontented Elves forced by magical contract to not work. As much as Hermione was on good terms with Dobby and certain other Hogwart’s House Elves, there was a very nasty countermovement afoot that persecuted the Muggleborn Witch whenever she stepped into their territory.

Furthermore, about a year ago the Daily het het had published a truly awful candid/trick picture of Hermione. She had been scratching the side of her nose. Honest, nothing more than that! However the photograph had been taken in profile and shot from the other side of her face resulting in the moving image of Hermione vigorous doing something vile in public! Even worse was the caption, “Hermione Granger, Agitator for House Elf Rights Urges The Little Beggars to Picket (pick it)!

She had been mortified to see the edition and on that day returned to her parents and accepted their offer of dentistry school. She never told a soul about how she’d felt about the humiliation. After all it had been only one article in many vilifying her. Even after the Order had managed to defeat Voldemort, while everyone was receiving Orders of Merlin she received nothing more than a Certificate of Thanks and yet another article musing on who was the greater threat to the Wizarding world and who had created more devastation, That Granger Girl or Voldemort? The author of the article voted the former.

Hermione fled the Wizarding world with unbridled relief. Sadly, Ron was so involved in his career as Keeper for the Chudley Cannons that she only heard news of him through Harry. And Harry was so involved with his duties as an Auror-in-training that when her pregnancy had started showing and she’d taken to avoiding him, it had been weeks before he became suspicious and forced a confrontation.

Hermione began tearing up. As if that wasn’t embarrassing. She’d only gone to the gynecologist because she was tired of her mother nagging her that even though she was a virgin it was best to “be prepared” for that special someone. She had actually fainted when the doctor had informed her that though her hymen was intact she was seven weeks in the family way. Neither her father nor mother even believed her at first, both of them shaking their heads and saying “but Hermione you should have told us, wuld uld have understood.” Eventually the three of them had made an appointment with the gynecologist to explain how a virgin could get pregnant through exposure to sperm. Her father kept groaning and asking who the father was because he was going to find the blighter and feed him his own sac. Her mother just cried and cried. But at the first mention of abortion her two parents had a complete turn around. Oh no, they wanted their grandchild! Hermione just looked at them, not able, in fact completely unwilling to disappoint the two people she loved most in the world. And so the threesome were to become a foursome and no further talk was had about fathers for almost five months when Harry came tearing on the scene.

“’Mione, you know you aren’t being fair. I don’t care who he is. Filch even. He deserves to know.” Harry would rant on and on about fairness. And Hermione would think how awful it would be should Harry ever find out that it was someone much worse that Filch. She wondered if Harry would be so caring about what was fair if he had any inkling of who the father was. But then Harry brought in reinforcements in the person of Remus Lupin.

Things got worse.

“Hermione. I’m so surprised at you,” Remus’ voice was gentle and his big eyes sad with disappointment. “You care about the rights of House Elves but what about the right of your own child to know his or her Dad? What about the father’s rights? one one is so terrible that they don’t deserve to know.”

Waldo began to whimper and Hermione tried to latch him on again. Her breasts were sore, bruised and bleeding, still she tried. Her milk had not come in yet, but there was some colostrum there and, according to everything she’d read, it was very important that he drink some. And she could tell he was hungry. She kissed his tiny red forehead and little fists, “I’m sorry, Waldo. I’m sorry.”

It had been around the time when she was eight months gone that Hermione had had a nightmare. She dreamt that she was in Hogsmeade. She was walking down the street, naked and very pregnant. All the Witches and Wizards were staring at her and laughing. Then she saw Snape. He threw off his robes and turned into a House Elf who hexed her. The next part of the dream was the worst. The hex caused her baby inside her to die. She woke up screaming. Then she knew, it didn’t matter what Harry or Remus thought. The Wizarding world was too dangerous for her to raise her son. She’d stay far away from that world and keep her child safe.

Waldo fell asleep again and Hermione continued to silently weep. She was alone, so very alone. Harry had stayed with her throughout her attempts to restart labor and through the tortuous decision to transfer. Her arrival at the hospital was treated as an emergency and she was very scared. Harry never left her side-- Not through the epidural, not through the cutting. He helped her hold her seconds-old babe while they stitched up all seven layers of abdomen that they’d had to cut through to rescue her child. Harry was a hero. That’s what Dumbledore had trained him to be, but more than that he was a person of compassion and strength. He never flinched or blanched through the entire ordeal. But finally, when the epidural was no longer in effect and she could hold Waldo on her own he asked to leave-- to go get drunk and celebrate. And so she let him go because he’d more than earned it. She had fallen asleep at one point with her baby in his bassinette beside her and it was during that time when her parents came and left. When she woke it was close to nightfall and she’d completely missed her parent’s visit. Alone, so alone…

Hermione distracted herself with thoughts of Snape. It was the Git’s fault that she’d missed out on her perfect birth. And somehow she wasn’t surprised. He might have been a brilliant spy and even a fairly adequate potions master, but as a social being he was a walking disaster!

She knew all along that there was a risk that if he ever found out he was father to the child he might not behave in a true to pure blood fashion. Almost every single law in the Wizarding world having to do with parental rights and duties towards out of wedlock children were created to protect a pure blood father from having to acknowledge or take responsibility for a “Mudblood” child.

Hermione knew this because she had looked it up. Furthermore, Snape had no legal recourse to their child in either world. She had checked with the Ministry of Magic. Snape did not exist in the Muggle world and so he’d have no legal rights there. So, especially since the Wizarding world knew nothing of Waldo, Snape was out of luck in both worlds.

However, his appearance at the birthing center could only mean one thing. That he wasn’t going to act the role of the typical pure blood. And even if he had no legal rights, he could still play the common decency card. Hermione knew she needed to prepare herself for his visit. He’d probably act outraged that she’d kept her pregnancy hidden from him. He would demand to see his child on a regular basis. And then, then he’d ask her to marry him. Not because he loved her, but because it would be the only way he could assert his paternity. Hermione felt a bit nauseous at the thought of a passionless, loveless marriage to a scarecrow of man who no doubt had antediluvian ideas of a woman’s place in the world. The tears returned. She’d never agree to it, not ever! She didn’t know how she’d get rid of him, but he had no legal right to the child other than whatever she might grant. It didn’t matter how he might yell or threaten her, she’d keep her child safe from the dangers of the Wizarding world. All she had to do was stand pat and say, “No” to him.

Just then the door opened and in stepped Snape. He was dressed in an outlandish Muggle costume. The trousers, made up of a chartreuse and maroon plaid polyester material, and its matching sports jacket were too short on his lanky frame. Worse was the Hawaiian cotton print shirt of pink and lavender hibiscus on a black background that clashed quite violently with the trousers and jacket. The final grotesquery was the pit helmet. He looked like a refugee from a traveling circus, and in spite of herself, Hermione began to laugh.

She laughed so hard that her sutures pulleart art and blood began to soak through. Just then Waldo woke up and began wailing.


A/N: Many, many thanks to my wonderful reviewers: LovesthePotionBoy, LittleBird, RedWritingHood, Becca, Nesscafe, Ran, WendyNat, Spaz141, Nocturnus, Adriana, DeblovesDragon, Meg, Heather and DemonicAngel.

Special thanks to Andrian for all her support! And five points to the house that picks up on the Galaxy Quest reference.