Hilltop Cottage

Harry turned his nose up at the smell of dampness that permeated the house. As Snape turned on the lights, it was clear he really hadn’t been here for months by the layer of dust and the chill in the place. He watched with concern as the Professor walked straight to his front door and lifted the pile of post that had accumulated. He was obviously more shaken than he had let on, but even his general appearance told Harry volumes about his depth of feeling for Hermione, and it had taken him totally by surprise. Even during the worst of days during the war, Snape was never dishevelled and unshaven as he was now, and Harry felt some sympathy for him.



‘Here, you might as well make yourself useful,’ Snape said, thrusting a pile of letters into his hands. He turned and sat on the couch, discarding any letters that didn’t bear Hermione’s writing swiftly.



Harry followed suit, shocked at how much post could gather in the course of a year.



‘Professor, some of this post is over a year old. Some of them are bills… what will I do with them?’ he asked.



Snape turned his haggard face to him. ‘Ignore them,’ he said quietly.



Harry reeled slightly at the pain in Snape’s eyes and shivered slightly. Lifting his wand, he lit a fire in the grate and got back to the task in hand. He had sifted through almost the whole pile when a familiar looped ‘S’ caught his eye. He lifted the lavender coloured envelope and took a sharp intake of breath.



‘I have it,’ he said. Snape stopped searching and stared at him, then at the envelope.



‘You wouldn’t have told me about this if it wasn’t important, would you Potter?’ Snape curled his lip slightly.



‘Do you really think I want to be sitting in your house at one in the morning for no good reason?’ he asked, smirking slightly.



‘Why did you want to come?’ Snape’s eyes narrowed.



‘Someone has to stop you from doing something stupid when you read this. Let’s get it over with,’ he said, pushing the letter in Snape’s hand.



Severus could feel himself shaking slightly as he slid his finger beneath the envelope. The writing paper rustled slightly as he withdrew it, and he paused before opening in, looking at Potter, who nodded his encouragement. His hands started to tremble as he read the note, taking each line of new information slowly. He started to read the letter again, not quite believing what he was reading, and his eyes blurred with tears he couldn’t stop. Half-read lines seared through to his heart, until he closed his eyes, unable to keep reading any longer. But still, the words were imprinted behind his eyelids.



‘… You are going to be a father, Severus.



…allow your son to know you as he grows up.



I think of you often, Severus.



Hermione’



‘Oh, gods, Hermione,’ his whispered.



Harry stared as the Professor crumpled before him with tears coursing down his cheeks, and his illusions of the man disappeared, to be replaced with a new and totally unexpected reality. Hermione had been right about him all along. Slowly, he leant forward and patted Severus on the arm.



‘Don’t worry, sir. It will all work itself out,’ he said quietly. ‘In the meantime, I need some coffee, and so do you. You can’t meet your son for the first time looking like some sort of tramp.’



Harry ambled off to the kitchen, and didn’t notice Severus as he scowled after him.



***



An hour later, after three cups of strong black coffee, Harry stifled a yawn and gestured to Severus.



‘Ready to go, or are you staying here?’ he said.



Severus sighed and rubbed at his eyes. For the first time in a week he felt exhausted enough to sleep, and Severus nodded, pushing his tall frame off the sofa.



‘Have you decided what to do?’ Harry asked gently. They had been little conversation between them as they drank their coffee, and Harry could do nothing but watch as Severus read and re-read Hermione’s letter, his face ranging from despair and hope, and then back to despair again.



‘I have no idea, Potter. Truly, I thought she had left me for another and that the child…’ he paused, ‘that the boy…’



‘Your son, sir,’ Harry prompted.



‘Indeed. I thought he was the result of a new liaison. I would never have guessed…’ he said.



‘Wait until you meet him. There’s no denying he’s yours, believe me,’ Harry said, laughing lightly.



Severus snorted. ‘If she’ll ever let me see him, after all that has gone on. I could never understand why she tolerated me then, I have no reason to think it will be any easier now.’



Harry nodded. ‘She can be stubborn, all right. She thinks you knew, that you weren’t interested in having the baby, or anything to do with him. It broke her heart,’ he sighed.



Severus ran his hands over his face. ‘I have never considered myself being a father,’ he said. ‘We talked about it, a long time ago, before… it was always a pipe dream.’



‘It’s not a dream now, and although she won’t admit it, sir, she really needs you, even if it’s just for Donovan.’ Harry smiled at him.



‘Perhaps,’ Severus said. ‘You won’t mention this to Hermione, will you, Potter?’



‘Don’t leave it too long, will you? I just want her to be happy, and the sooner, the better’ he said.



The two men eyed each other, and some level of understanding passed unspoken between them before they went through the Floo, each to their own destinations.





***



Hermione quite enjoyed washing dishes the Muggle way. Her hands sank into the sudsy water, and she lifted the brush and scrubbed the remains of her Crispy Chilli Chicken off her plate brusquely.



She had spent some of her day interviewing potential nannies for Donovan and had the list down to two candidates. One was the niece of Marcus Flint, and the other was a young French student from Beauxbatons. Both of the girls were young and on a years’ study break, and Hermione had liked them both. It was a hard decision, one she thought she might discuss with Ginny.



Hermione dried her hands on a tea towel and glanced at Donovan. She had sensed his magic growing over the past couple of months, and was just waiting for the first manifestation of it. Presently, he was lying on his belly on the rug, pushing a wooden train back and forth, his dark head moving in time with the train and an ‘Shhhh’ sound coming from his pursed lips. Hermione grinned. He was copying her from earlier, when she had got down on her haunches and played with him for a while.



There was a gentle knock at the door, and Donovan raised his head and stared.



‘Mama, Dada?’ he gurgled, a distinct question in his voice.



Hermione chuckled. ‘No, I don’t know who it is, either, sweetie. Let’s look, shall we?’



She scooped the boy up, giving him a noisy kiss on the cheek that made him giggle and squirm away, screwing up his face and showing the two small stubs that passed for his first teeth. Jiggling Donovan on her hip and smiling at him, Hermione opened the door, and stared wide-eyed at Severus, standing ashen-faced on the step. He looked dreadful, pale and like he hadn’t eaten for a few days. In his hand he was clutching an opened lavender envelope, which she instantly recognised.



‘Severus?’ she enquired. ‘What is it?’



Severus was staring at Donovan, his eyes roaming his features and drinking them in. Tears filled his eyes and he smiled gently as Donovan held out a chubby hand and aimed straight for his nose.



He shifted his gaze to Hermione, and he began to stammer, holding up the envelope for emphasis.



‘I didn’t know, Hermione… I was living at Hogwarts, didn’t collect my post… only opened this yesterday,’ he gasped, his words tumbling over each other. ‘God, forgive me, but I didn’t know.’



Understanding washed over Hermione in a rush, and she felt her legs trembling as she squeezed Donovan tightly.



‘Oh… Oh, Severus…’ she whispered, and fat tears started to fall down her face.



Severus stepped up to her and wrapped his arm around them both, and slowly, they walked into Hilltop Cottage and closed the door.