Snapey Went A Courting

Snapey Went A Courting

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

Chapter Seven – Snape gets a clue


Hermione sat on her very own couch-- Wearing her very own ratty, old, pink bathrobe. T was was a pitcher of pumpkin juice on her coffee table and she was happy. It had been shockingly easy. Madam Pomfrey had full doctor’s privileges—everywhere! The Ministry of Magic was very careful to bestow such credentials onto each and every Medi-Wizard and Witch to ease the transfer of medical care from the Muggle world to the Wizarding one should the need arise.

She had explained to Hermione that sometimes Wizards and Witches took ill while in the Muggle world and getting them out rapidly and with the minimum of fuss was essential. Of course, riding in a Thestral drawn hearse, which the Wizarding world used as an ambulance, was a bit unnerving, but it got her home in record time. Once home, Pomfrey worked her magic, healing Hermione’s incisions and letting her feel like herself again. Of course, hormones from nursing Waldo would create a bit of emotional volatility, still it was nothing compared to how she’d felt in the hospital. Hermione smiled to herself. The medi-witch had checked out Waldo and done a minor spell for his borderline jaundice. All was well with the world.

Except for…

Oh, why think on it? Hermione asked herself. It was a little thing. Not very much-- not bad at all… No… yes, yes it was. It was bad. She just couldn’t explain, wasn’t allowed to explain really, her reasons for wanting to avoid the Wizarding world. In fact, being home now, it all seemed a bit melodramatic of her. Worried about a bit of bad press, how silly! And what was a few hexes from a couple of disgruntled House Elves?

No, the real sticking point was Prof. McGonagall’s insistence that she marry the Potion’s professor immediately. At which, Hermione began wailing that she didn’t want a loveless marriage to the nasty man. McGonagall was surprisingly sympathetic-- sympathetic and immoveable. She suggested that one, Snape be allowed complete access to his son, after all once Hogwart’s fall semester began he’d have very little time to see the babe, so it wouldn’t be too bad. Hermione nodded. That would absolve her guilt over Snape’s determination to be allowed near his son.

However, the second request, that Hermione overcome her horror of the man by allowing him to court her, was a bit over the top. How could dating the man change him? He’d still be a freak, a disaster of a human being. Vile tempered and fatally prejudiced against Muggles. Her parents been visited by the professor and while her father refused to discuss the matter, her mother had stated that it wasn’t too bad, however, it wasn’t too good either. Meaning, it must have been a bloody catastrophe. Hermione knew her father. He loviloving, doting even, but a total prat when it came to protecting his family. He’d have fisticuffs with any man who had forgotten to hold the door open for his wife or cut in front of her in line. He had been like that for years, since Hermione was born and before. His overly strong sense of honor and overbearing pride made him quick to ire when he thought there was an insult to family, however slight.

Hermione could only hope Snape had not mentioned calling her son anything but Waldo. After all, that was her blessed Great Uncle’s name and he had only passed on a few months ago.

Everyone had loved Pappy Waldo. He had been an absolute dear and a joy to all those who knew him.


&&&

“Severus?”

“Lupin.”

Lupin opened the door to his chambers a little wider, but not wide enough to give the impression that Snape was welcomed inside. Snape didn’t mind though, as the man was not fully dressed. His robes were only buttoned half way, exposing his bare chest. Snape found it almost obscene that Lupin’s upper body was quite matted with a literal pelt of thick, curling, brown and grey hair, but what could one expect with his sort? Snape himself only had a dusting of chest hair, which was, of course, much more civilized and gentlemanly.

“What can I do for you?” Lupin asked mildly.

“Madam Pince says that you ‘borrowed’ one of the magazines needed for the Muggle Studies class. I need it.”

“Frankly, I took it with ‘permission’ of the good Witch with the understanding that it would be back before classes began.”

“Well, I need it,” Snape said quirking a quick smile.

“Let me go get it then, but frankly, Severus, I never had you marked as the GQ sort of fellow.” He semi-closed the door on Severus, rudely leaving him in the hallway.

A streak of residual pain cut through his jaw. Even after Madam Pomfrey’s healing spells and his own potions, his jaw was still hurting. After a short wait, Lupin returned, magazine in hand.

“Here you are.” Lupin said as he handed over the magazine.

“You know, Lupin. I always felt you were a dicey fellow. But I blamed it on your, you know, condition. Reading Muggle magazines, well, now I’m not so certain.” He turned to go, but the magazine slipped from his fingers, flipping open to a page displaying scantily glad women.

“I like the articles,” said Lupin, blushing.

Snape snatched up the periodical and quickly went through the pages. “These women are practically naked. Is this what they teach in Muggle Studies? I am shocked.”

Lupin’s blush got deeper. “Well, it does I would guess add some, ahem, spice to the course and increases it’s popularity with the pure bloods who have never been exposed to such.” He cleared his throat. “And what do you need it for?”

“Research, which is none of your concern. Yet I will say this. I suspect that the salesclerks at Gladrags are not as knowledgeable about Muggle clothing as they claim to be.”

“Oh.”

Snape rolled up the magazine and shook it at Lupin. “And there better not be any sticky pages!”

Lips curling in a semi-smile, he replied, “Don’t worry old man, I did a cleansing spell.”


&&&

“Oh, by the Gods… Oh… Merlin’s balls.”

Snape was ready to go down todragdrags and shred the entire sales staff there into tiny pieces.

Armani. Calvin Klein. Gucci. Versacci.

Black-- black was a popular Muggle shade after all! Grey. Pinstripe. White! Navy Blue!!! A simple white shirt, no lace, and a dark necktie. No bowties. No Pith Helmets. No Sombreros! Snape took it all in. Muggle photos, strangely still, one after another of respectably dressed men clad in somber suits. Some of the men even wore their hair long and tied back. Snape was relieved that with a simple leather thong his hair would be appropriate to Muggle going. Snape wrote down the street address for Harrods and decided it was time to venture into that pit of iniquity, Muggle London! He looked at the clothes from Gladrags and sneered. He would wear his own robes and Ministry of Magic be damned!

Four hours later, Snape returned to his dungeons with his completed purchases. There had been some confusion at first, with the simpering Muggle clerk thinking Snape was a brother of some monastic order because of his outfit!

He’d never known that he could have walked around London with no problem at all. It was true-- Muggle religious types did wear robes! Of course, he didn’t want Miss Granger, um, Hermione to feel that way about him. Now that Hermione and Saccius had received medical attention, it was time to re-group and marshal his energies.

Snape cheerfully unpacked his new wardrobe. Underwear! Ha, hadn’t worn that since, well, best not to think on that! Still it would protect the privates from any near calls with the Muggle invention called a Shipper. Shipper? Zipper! That was it.

Minerva had said that Hermione would allow him to see the child and would allow him to bring suit for her hand. Snape rubbed his jaw. He would have to be very careful to avoid the parents, though Mrs. Granger had not seemed too hostile towards him. At Gringotts, Snape had opened a line of credit to a Muggle card that allowed him the freedom to shop without worrying about the cost. Still, his math was not very good at converting Galleons to Pounds and he feared his calculations might be very off, since everything in Harrods seemed incredibly expensive. Well, he’d sit down with a good calculation spell and sort it all out later.

Now, the issue at hand was to win Hermione over for a quick marriage and the cized zed raising of his son.

He was back to his original plan. Her avoidance of him and refusal to have him as her husband was probably no more than hurt pride on her part. Sadly, her parents probably overindulged her in whatever fancy took her and so she probably was very stubborn and headstrong. Had she been in Slytherin and one of his charges, he might have been able to break her of such unfortunate tendencies. But no, she was Gryffindor where no doubt such idiocy was indulged and even applauded.

Snape had the sudden urge to scratch behind his ear. He should have to tread very lightly and carefully. He’d have to win her round with tact and charm because she simply had the protection of too many powerful friends to call on. He laid out his presents for her. Necklace of silver and faux emeralds and a silver plated teething ring with SS on it, both items which he would have given her from the family collection, if he had access to it, which he did not. So he went and got the best duplicates he could manage.

Snape sighed. Gaining his son was becoming an extraordinarily expensive proposition. His savings were dwindling. He was not an extravagant man and had saved a fair amount over the years, but a good third was now gone. He looked around him. The dungeons. Hermione’s father didn’t seem to like them. Snape looked at them with a fresh eye. No, they simply weren’t the proper place to raise a family. Cold and damp and dark even in summer. Perhaps he could apply for something in a tower? Surely the Headmaster when he returned from his journey would be able to accommodate such a request.

&&&

It was nearly dark outside when her parents left, and Hermione was tired. She had wanted to have a bath or at least a shower to wash her hair while her parents were there to watch Waldo. But somehow the time flew bye with both her parents helping out with cleaning up the flat, washing dishes and clothes and Hermione taking a long nap. So she never got around to the bath. And she was sticky all over with breast milk again. So very sticky and, ugh, even her hair smelled of mommy moo!

There was a knock at the door and she wondered if her mother had forgotten something. She walked over and quickly looked out to see… Prof. Snape. Sighing deeply she opened the door to him. She knew she was being rude but she turned her back to him and went to sit in the couch without a word. She was tired and this was the last thing she wanted; however, after her chat with the two Hogwart’s Witches, she didn’t dare turn him away.

She was dressed in an oversized Dr. Who T-shirt and baggy grey sweatpants. They were comfortable and easily doubled as pajamas for all the naps she took whenever an opportunity presented itself. She noted with some surprise that her old professor had suddenly turned into an icon of sartorial splendor. The trousers were stylish but not trendy in a simple grey flannel and he wore a black polo shirt with a grey tweed jacket. He looked like Snape; however, the lighter colors made him seem less severe. His hair had been pulled back with only a strand or two escaping. Hermione remembered something Prof. McGonagall had said, that Severus Snape did have it in his power to be charming when he chose to, he just had to have his back against the wall to do so.

What was it? Ah, yes “My dear, Severus Snape is a bully and, as all bullies do, he has a keen respect, fear even, of all power and authority. You just have to show him who is boss and he’ll roll over and let you scratch his tummy.”

Hermione had found the sentiment ominous at the time and she wasn’t sure if she liked it anymore now that she and the professor were alone.

“I trust that you are well?” asked Snape after he closed the door behind him and came into the room.

“Yes, thank you. I am.” Hermione felt unnerved by his mildness. In her father it had always denoted the calm before the storm.

“May I sit?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Please.” Snape removed a pile of folded laundry from the chair and searched for a place to put it.

“The floor will be fine.” Hermione reddened. Damn it, she wasn’t expecting company.

Snape reminded himself to hold back on questions about his son. That had been a mistake on his part last time. Obviously, Hermione needed assurance that she was interesting to him. He swallowed. He had to admit that he only felt for her what he’d feel for any mother of his child, cautious gratitude and protectiveness. Well, it would have to do. He must have been attracted to her on some level or they would not be in this situation.

“I’m sorry for being here so late. I felt it would be best if I waited for your parents to leave.” Quite unconsciously, he reached up and rubbed the left side of his jaw.

Hermione picked up at once on the gesture. “Did my father hit you?”

Snape stared at her in shock. He shook his head slowly, “He probably did. All I saw was a blur.”

Hermione jumped up and began to stomp around the room, “Damn. I should have known. Those anger management classes were completely bogus.

Turning to Snape, “I sincerely apologize. He’s very protective, chauvinistic at times and a bit of a Neanderthal at others. But he’s a good father, husband and dentist.”

“Of course.” Snape felt very awkward. He looked around for Saccius, no, Waldo, and spotted a bassinette next to the couch. He nodded towards it, “May I?”

“Oh, yes. He’s sleeping.”

“Oh, well, then. I wouldn’t wish to wake him.” He made no move to get up.

“It’s all right.” Hermione felt like she had ants crawling on her. She really wanted a bath. Dare she? Could she trust him. Oh Bloody Hell, why not? “Actually, I should really like to take a bath, or a shower if you haven’t time to stay. Perhaps you could just watch him for a few minutes?”

Snape tamped down a grin, “Yes, I would be glad to be of service.”

Hermione smiled and left to get her bathrobe and a fresh towel from the dryer. Her mother had spent the afternoon washing everything in sight, including all the linens. Hermione had never known herself to need so many wash loads in a day, but suddenly another load was needed every time she turned around. There wasn’t a thing in the apartment that Waldo hadn’t spit up, pooped or peed on and no matter how many flannels were used, he nearly always managed to miss and target a different area than covered.

She left Snape tensely hovering near the bassinette, looking as if a Bogart might explode from it at any moment.

“What should I do if he wakes?”

“I don’t know. I never get a break from him so I have no idea at all. Just manage as best you can and when he cries, I’ll come running. I tell you what. I’ll wash my hair first so that I can jump out if he does wake.”

He solemnly nodded. “Fair enough.”

“You used to have the same look on your face whenever you left Grimmauld Place to go spying.”

“Did I?” A shy boyish smile leapt across his face. She didn’t see it, having already locked herself into the bath. Suddenly, Snape had hope that it would, after all, go smoothly. She’d been paying him attention for years, it seemed. He felt his heart race. Ah, to be noticed! No one ever did that for him. And now this simple Muggleborn… did!

He noted the baby beginning to stir and quickly lifted him into his arms. He paced smoothly across the tiny living room, back and forth several times until Waldo fell into a deeper sleep.

Hermione quickly washed and conditioned her hair, all the while keeping an ear open for her son. When the cries never came, she sprinkled some healing herbs and bath salts and ran more water into the tub. She laid back and her tired body relaxed totally. Her eyes closed.

When she awoke the water had gone cold. Blinking her eyes, she looked around her. Waldo! Waldo never woke up. What if he were ill? What if Snape took him… Hermione jumped out of the tub and threw her robe on. Being a small flat it only took three steps to see that all was well.

Furthermore, what she saw in the living room created several impressions at once: Snape did clean up well, Waldo was very happy sleeping with his Da and what was that? Did all men look adorable when sleeping with their sons? Hermione wasn’t sure, aboue lae last, yet there he was sleeping sitting up and holding onto a silver teething ring type rattle in one hand and in the other arm was Waldo, also blissfully asleep. Something hard and cold burst into a million pieces inside of Hermione’s heart and began to melt.

She took another step forward, picking up a whiff of some very expensive Muggle aftershave. She felt confused because Prof. Snape had always smelled of an unpleasant combination of Comfrey and Orris root.

His eyes opened and met hers just as her robe swung open revealing her exquisitely naked body.

“Goddess,” whispered Snape as he viewed the sight.

A/N: A very special super duper big hug and thanks to my reviewers: LittleBird, Zoriena, na, Karen, LovesthePotionsBoy, Spaz141, Tifsuz, Wendynat, DMS, Deb, DeblovesDragon and Innerfeline.