Nappies of Courage

All Disclaimers and Author Notes Apply:

WARNINGS: Breast milk. Lots of it.

Severus awoke the next morning to the sound of cooing. As he rubbed his neck, which had seized up while he slept upright, he could see a crowd of women surrounding his wife and newborn son. Pushing in between Minerva and Pomona, he saw Hermione holding the baby, who gazed solemnly into his mother’s eyes. From the nudges and giggles going around the circle of women at his appearance, Severus guessed that the story of his behavior during the birth had made the rounds.

Ignoring the sniggering, he bent over his wife. Graciously disregarding the fact that Hermione looked as though she had been run over by Madame Maxime’s carriage, complete with two black eyes, Severus leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss. Turning his eyes towards his son, he began to smile, and then squinted. “Dearest? Is he supposed to look like that? His head is so…pointed. And is he supposed to be that red?”

Molly chuckled. “All newborn babies look like that, Severus. It will go away in a few days. He’ll look just like you in no time.” At that moment, the baby opened his mouth and let out a distinctively bad-tempered yell. “See?” Severus glared at her, to no effect.

In the meantime, Hermione had opened the front of her gown and was frantically trying to get the now-screaming baby to take her breast in his mouth. The more frantic she became, the more the baby squalled. Severus began offering what he considered helpful tips. “Just put it in his mouth! Hold still!” His voice rose to overwhelm the baby’s cries.

Finally, Molly could stand it no longer and pushed forward, shoving Severus out of the way. “Here dear.” He watched in astonishment as Molly firmly took Hermione’s breast in one hand, the baby’s head in the other, and brought the two together. The baby immediately began sucking happily, as Hermione gasped. “Make your toes curl, did it love?” Hermione nodded affirmatively with tear-filled eyes. “That’s how you know you’re doing it right. The pain wears off in a week or two.” She leaned down to examine the baby’s mouth closely, and then, satisfied, backed away.

At last, the crowd had their fill of baby Snape, and left the new family alone. Hermione lay back against the pillows, exhausted, with the baby fast asleep on her chest. Severus gingerly sat down on the bed next to them. “How is little Severus?”

“Excuse me?” Hermione opened her eyes to glat hat him once again. “Severus? When was that decided and where was I?”

“It’s only natural for a boy to be named after his father. I was.” Severus said stiffly.

“And we all know how well that turned out,” she mumbled. Then, louder, “I was thinking about Ronald.”

“Absolutely not! And what is wrong with Severus?”

“Love, do you want him to be called Junior?” Severus shuddered involuntarily with horrible memories.

“My family has traditionally had Latin names, Hermione,” he said.

“What about Sirius? Or Remus?” she asked. He was coughing so hard he didn’t notice the wicked look on her face.

They both thought for a minute. “We can’t name him Albus or Harry without the Dark Lord being suspicious.”

“We can’t name him Lucius or Rodolphus without me wanting to vomit every time I hear his name,” she retorted. Silence fell over them once again.

“What about Sanguinus? It’s Latin, it’s oddly appropriate…” Severus proffered quietly. They both looked at their sleeping son and smiled.

“Hello, Sanguinus,” Hermione said.

Three days later

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow!”

Severus shot straight up in bed. For a moment he had hallucinated that Hermione was in labor again. Of course, the fact that little Sanguinus only slept for an hour or so at a time before wailing for his mother might have had something to do with the hallucinations.

“Oh God! Ow!”

He frowned. This was the most realistic hallucination yet. He turned to see his wife sitting on the edge of the bed, her pajama top open. She was staring down in disbelief at her chest. Crawling up behind her, he looked down to see two gigantic, misshapen lumps where her breasts used to be. “What happened?” he asked, shocked.

“I think my milk came in,” she said, still staring. “And it hurts!”

“Can you feed him? Drain a bit?” He was still staring, horrified, at her nipples, which were flat against her rock-hard, lumpen breasts. She pressed on the top of one breast a little, and a stream of milk went shooting across the room, hitting a portrait of Salazar Slytherin directly in the forehead. As the portrait began cursing loudly, the baby woke up and started to scream. Hermione hurriedly tried to get Sanguinus to latch on to her breast, but he couldn’t get his small mouth to attach to the large boulder that was once his best friend. His wailing increased, as did Hermione’s.

Finally, she thrust the baby at Severus and ran for the bathroom. “I have to drain,” she shouted over her shoulder. Moments later, he heard the shower start. His gaze darted back and forth between the angry, screaming child in his arms and the door to the bathroom. Finally, he stood, and stalked in to see Hermione. She was standing, naked, under steaming hot water, rubbing her fingers over her breasts. Streams of thin, bluish-white milk flowed from her nipples, and she was looking distinctively relieved. Hearing the baby, she turned off the water and stepped out. Still naked and dripping, she took Sanguinus in her arms and went to the bed to feed him.

As Severus watched the child suckling happily at Hermione’s breast, he couldn’t help but notice her nude form. Her stomach was sagging, as the skin had not yet adjusted to Sanguinus’ absence. Stretch marks decorated her breasts, stomach and thighs. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her hair was a damp mess. Still, it had been several days since their last romantic encounter, and Severus found himself stirring a bit at the sight, forgetting he was largely undressed himself. Noticing his rising cock, Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. “Not a chance, Severus. Poppy said I have to wait at least six weeks before resuming...relations.”

Six weeks? Grumbling to himself, Severus stalked into the bathroom with as much dignity as a man in his boxers can muster and treated himself to an ice-cold shower.

Six Weeks Later

Severus stared at the calendar where he had methodically crossed off every day for the past six weeks--the very long past six weeks. Today was the day. He was ready. The Call had been pushing him every minute for the past six weeo tao take Hermione and have it over with! He knew through their link that Hermione’s Call was far too busy dealing with her postpartum hormones to worry about sex, but his was at full force. Recently, the Call had been frantically urging him to take anybody he could get his hands on. There were knotholes in trees that were starting to look good. Just that morning, he had found himself examining Hagrid’s arse more closely than was strictly good form.

As much as he wanted to simply throw his wife on her back and have his way with her, he had used some of his time actually reading the books Hermione had pushed upon him. He knew that it was important for him to make his wife feel desirable by romancing her and helping her see herself as a woman, not just a mother. Having arranged with a very willing Minerva for her to watch Sanguinus, Severus had planned a romantic dinner in their rooms. Unfortunately, he would have to maintain his composure throughout the evening. Taking a deep breath, he very firmly told the Call to bugger off.

The sound of a door closing caused him to turn and see Hermione walk through the door. He gasped as he took in her beauty. She was wearing a plum colored silk dress that showed off her ample cleavage while gliding over her still rounded tummy and hips. “You look lovely.” The look in his eyes told her of his sincerity. He ushered her to the table, pulled out her chair, and poured her a glass of wine.

“I don’t know if I should, Severus. The baby…”

“You can have one glass of wine.” He knew that the alcohol would relax her for the lovemaking ahead. Severus seated himself, and gazed at his wife over the candles. With a snap of his fingers, dinner appeared on the table. They smiled at each other and began eating.

Don’t talk about the baby. Don’t talk about the baby. Severus repeated silently in his head. “Hermione,” he said aloud, “Did I mention Pomona’s new breeding program for mandrakes?”

“No, Severus. Tell me about it.” Hermione replied politely. The conversation continued stiltedly for a while, then lapsed back into silence. Damn! When did they lose the ability to talk to one another? He raised his head to try again, then…

“Hermione! What the hell is that?” He pointed at the front of her dress, where two large, damp circles had appeared.

She threw down her fork. “Oh shit! I’m leaking.” Hermione stared at her sodden dress, then buried her head in her hands. Her shoulders began to shake. Severus groaned slightly. Since the baby was born, the smallest thing would set Hermione crying. She cried at the plight of the house elves, at the small crystal ball Sybill gave them as a baby gift, at a Charity advertisement on the Wizarding Wireless.

He stood up and made his way around the table to comfort her, but as he reached her side, he realized she wasn’t crying at all, but…laughing? “Are you all right, Hermione?” Severus asked tentatively.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said chuckling. “I’ve just been waiting for tonight, and wanted it to be perfect and here this” she gestured towards her chest “happens.”

“You’ve been waiting too? I’ve been a wreck!” They laughed together for a moment, then Severus bent to wipe t oft of sauce off of Hermione’s cheek. He planted what was meant to be a gentle kiss on her lips, but she responded immediately, and with such ferocity that he was lost in her. “We should get you out of these wet things,” he said, and wrapped his arms around her to unzip her dress.

They kissed again as the dress fell to the floor, and Hermione stepped out of it, pushing him towards the sofa. As they moved, she quickly undid his robes and scrabbled frantically to reach his bare skin as he removed her bra and knickers, never breaking their desperate kiss. As they reached the couch, they turned so Hermione could lie down. She pulled her husband down on top of her and they continued to embrace. Severus was hard as a rock. Hermione wrapped her legs around him and pulled him into her body. As he felt himself sink into his wife’s soft body, he thought he’d never felt anything so…

“Aaaarrrggghhh,” Hermione screamed. Shocked, Severus immediately stopped what he was doing and looked down at his wife’s face. Her features were contorted in pain, and a tear was rolling down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Severus.” She began to sob. “It hurts so much.” Immediately, the Call perked up at the mention of pain, and urged him onward.

Ruthlessly, Severus shoved down the Call, and withdrew from his wife. “What can I do to make it better, love?” His thumb came up to stroke her cheek. “If you were on top, would that help?”

“It might,” she said, sniffing. “And, perhaps, some…some…lubricant.” She almost whispered the last word. Quickly, Severus grabbed his wand and summoned some salve that would dHe kHe kissed her again, gently this time, then lay back. “I may need some help,” he said, gesturing to his limp cock which had promptly played dead at the sound of the scream, and the accompanying memory of Sanguinus’ entrance into the world.

She smiled, and scooped up a generous portion of the salve. Applying it to him, she stroked him to hardness, then verygerlgerly climbed on top of him. As she lowered herself, she winced a bit, but the lubricant eased the way. Achingly, slowly she began to move. The sensation was odd, with the coolness of the salve contrasting with the warmth of her body, but it had been so long for them both. The sound of small moans of pleasure coming from Hermione only increased his desire, and he began thrusting upwards into her body, moving his fingers down to rub her clitoris.

She appeared to have forgotten her pain as she ground down against him. As her groans increased, he felt himself begin to release. She tightened, and he went sailing over the edge, shooting into her as she screamed his name. In his pleasure, he didn’t notice the damp sensation on his chest until he opened his eyes to see streams of milk running from her nipples and pooling on his stomach. As she realized what was happening, she caught his eye – and they both collapsed into laughter once again.

Two Months Later

Things had finally settled down in the Snape household. Their marital relations had not quite returned to normal, but at least Severus was not relegated to cold showers and perving on Hagrid. This particular founfound him in an especially foul mood. He had awakened that morning feeling amorous. Rolling over towards his wife, he was greeted with a small pair of feet sticking in his face. Severus rose up on one arm to see Sanguinus tucked in the crook of Hermione’s arm, sleeping happily.

At his groan, Hermione opened her eyes to see him scowling at her. “What?” Her voice was sleepy.

“I thought the books said we weren’t supposed to bring the baby into bed with us.”

“Now you read the bloody books,” she muttered. Then louder, “Fine. Then you get up four times a night and bring him back for me to feed him. Because, frankly, the more sleep I get, the less likely I am to kill you as you sleep.” She glared at him.

Through their connection, he felt the truth of her statement and shuddered a bit.

The rest of the day had gone from bad to worse. Double Potions with the Gryffindors and Slytherins, a staff meeting, and a dodgy encounter with Sybill Trewlaney wherein she predicted “Dire trouble ahead, Severus,” then tried to grab his arse. Even the Call shuddered at the thought of that.

Nor did his day improve when he returned to his quarters. He was greeted by high-pitched shrieks from his son. “He’s been like that all day!” came a wail from the sofa. When he saw Hermione, he nearly winced. She was unshowered, still in her pajamand lnd looked as though she had been crying. “I can’t make him stop!” Hermione stood and passed him the baby in a move eerily reminiscent of a Keeper throwing a Quaffle back out into play. “Here, I have to at least take a shower. He’s fed, he’s clean, I have to go!”

With that, she disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him holding the squalling bundle that was his offspring. Remembering the advice from the books, he raised Sanguinus to his shoulder and patted him gently on the back. After that failed, he looked around to make sure nobody was watching, then gently began bobbing up and down and humming. That worked for approximately one minute before his son began shrieking again. This time he paced the room while bobbing and humming, every so often stopping to hear if the sound of the shower had stopped.

After fifteen minutes of this, Severus felt as though his head was about to explode. The Call was categorizing the number of Dark Rituals that required an infant sacrifice. Suddenly, a wicked thought occurred to him. Quickly checking to make sure the shower was still running, he laid his screaming son down on the rug. Pulling his wand out of his pocket, he pointed it at Sanguinus and uttered “Legilimens!” Immediately, imagegan gan flowing through his head at a breakneck pace. Besides the familiar pictures of Hermione’s breasts and the teddy bear that was Minerva’s baby gift, he could make no sense of his son’s thoughts.

Sighing, Severus broke the connection and bent to pick up the baby. At that moment, an even more evil thought came to him. Straightening, he once again pointed the wand at his child and said “Imperio!” Then, looking in his son’s eyes, he said “Stop crying!” Sanguinus shrieked even louder.

“It won’t work,” came Hermoine’s dry voice. He spun to see her standing, wrapped in her dressing gown, at the door. “Babies operate on instinct, not conscious thought. Legilimency and Imperio won’t work.”

Severus felt a vague sense of embarrassment at casting an Unforgivable on his own child, until he realized…”Hermione? How do you know?” His eyebrow raised at her.

She only laughed, and walked over to pick up their son.

Sanguinus’ Six Month Birthday

“I told you, Hermione. The Dark Lord insists.”

“So we have to present our son to him tonight. Like a christening, only evil and frightening.” Her voice was tart.

“We have no choice. Are you ready?” Severus looked at his wife, noticing that she looked lovely in green velvet dress robes. He did love her, and their son. Shaking off his tender thought, he asked “And Sanguinus?”

“See for yourself.” Hermione gestured to the pram. As he peered inside, he saw his little Sanguinus, who looked so very much like him, dressed in the miniature Death Eater robes that had been the Goyle’s gift, holding a… “Hermione? What is this?” He pointed to the wooden stag that his son clutched in his hand.

“It’s a gift from Harry. He bought it at Ollivander’s. Look!” She picked up the toy. “It has a protection charm on it!” The stag nuzzled against her hand. Sanguinus’ eyes followed his toy with concern until his mother placed it back beside him.

“Those antlers are sharp! He could put an eye out!” Severus didn’t like the reminder of Harry’s father.

“No, that’s the best part!” Hermione bounced her hand against the sharp edge, with no effect. “It can never hurt Sanguinus or those who mean him well.”

“Well, he can’t take it to see the Dark Lord. It won’t do!”

“Fine, darling. You try to take it away from him.” Hermione’s voice was tart again. Ses pls plucked the toy away from his son and turned to place it on the shelf. A shriek that would put a banshee to shame emerged from the pram. Sanguinus’ face turned red as he drew a deep breath for another scream, which was forestalled when Severus quickly placed the stag back into his hands.

“Let me guess,” he asked resignedly, “You named it ‘Prongs’.”

“No,” Hermione smiled wickedly. “I named it ‘Harry’.”

Later that evening

Severus Snape had seen many disturbing things in his life. None had surpassed the sight of Lord Voldemort leaning over Sanguinus, speaking baby talk and tickling the prominent chin with his skeletal finger.

“Who is going to be my right hand, hmmmm? Who’s going to be my little Death Eater pudding?” Voldemort straightened. “He will be a powerful wizard. I can feel it in him already.” His serpentine eyes narrowed as he leaned over the pram and saw the wooden stag. “What. Is. This?”

Please don’t tell him it’s named Harry, Severus prayed. Hermione merely smiled beatifically at the Dark Lord. Sanguinus’ lower lip began to protrude as he clutched at his toy.

“A future Death Eater should have something more befitting his station.” Imperiously, Voldemort turned and conjured a sterling silver snake with emerald eyes. He cast a charm on it so that it writhed in his hand. “Here, Sanguinus.” The Dark Lord placed the snake in the pram and attempted to take Harry away. The baby’s small, fat hand pulled back, and then threw the toy at Voldemort as hard as he could.

As Severus and Hermione watched in shock, the sharp wooden antler pierced one red eye. Voldemort screamed in pain, and then, very slowly, fell backwards, his lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. One by one, the Death Eaters Disapparated away, leaving the couple to stare at each other in amazement.

Hermione bent and pulled the toy out of the Dark Lord’s eyeball. As she stood, still gazing in to Severus’ eyes, she said slowly “From stag to blade…”

“From blade to flesh,” he finished. “It was that simple. Who knew?” Hermione placed the toy back in Sanguinus’ grasping hands, and then embraced her husband with all her might. As he held his love and stroked her hair, he whispered “It’s over now. It’s all over.”

Neither of them noticed Sanguinus thoughtfully sucking on the blood-soaked antler as a smile spread across his small face.