Severus Snape looked at himself in the mirror, debating whether or not it was time to start using concealment charms. He turned to get a good view of his profile. He frowned in indecision, wishing such trivial thoughts like do I look fat? had not suddenly taken such high priority in his mind. He turned again, to look at his other profile.
There was now a definite bulge visible. At least, compared to his normal concave thinness. Minerva had remarked yesterday that he was finally starting to look healthy.
He had scoured his copy of "Care for Pregnant Wizards" backwards and forwards until he knew it as well as he did any of his potion texts. He would drop by the kitchen in the dead of night to get recommended foods he normally did not have in his diet, that might rouse suspicion should his habits change. Him, drinking milk, for example, would not be easily lived down. Pickle sandwiches with ketchup, also, might be a bit difficult to explain, but they were all of a sudden one of his favorite foods.
He had taken to avoiding Poppy Pomfrey as though it were the prime tenet of his new religion. All injuries he suffered, whether due to potion class mishaps or Voldemort, he tended himself. He could not afford her checking him over. When Albus questioned this new self-treatment policy, he just explained that Poppy still looked at him as though he had done something to Hagrid. This never failed to quickly end the discussion.
He did not intentionally set out to avoid Hagrid, but their schedules and routines were different enough that it didn't take any effort to not see him for days on end. Neither were in the habit of attending every meal in the Great Hall, and they had a knack for deciding on different times to eat there.
He frowned at the mirror again, mildly annoyed with himself for letting his mind wander into distraction. Deciding on impulse that now was as good a time as any to start concealing his condition, he cast the charm. His appearance in the mirror did not alter. This would be how he looked for the remainder of his pregancy, and beyond, if neccessary.
He stalked from his private chambers, and out to the potions classroom where his first class of the day was already waiting. The first two periods passed without incident. It was during his third, right after lunch, that the problems started to occur. Sixth year Gryffindor-Slytherins, of course. Why wouldn't trouble occur during the class that contained Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, and Draco Malfoy? The first was simply annoying. The second caused the problem, and the last two had the best chance of making his life miserable by figuring out what was going on.
He hovered over his students as he always did. Longbottom got nervous as he always did. The boy would learn to grow a back bone if it was the last thing Severus taught him. Then a snapped comment at Potter, who was sharing a desk with Longbottom, startled the nervous Gryffindor and he dumped far too much lacewing into his cauldron. An acrid smoke boiled out of the potion. It was fairly harmless, it's only hateful attribute was its smell, but the stink atop everything else going on in his body made him feel light headed. He wobbled.
Malfoy was at his side in an instant, steadying him, eyeing the smoke, "Professor? Are you alright? Is that dangerous?" The rest of the class watched, either frozen in fear, or moving rapidly out of the way of Neville's potion.
Severus recovered enough to cast a ventillation charm. "The smoke is harmless, everyone back to your seats," he ordered bruskly. There was no chair behind the teacher's desk in his room. He had neverw cared to sit down while teaching. He preferred stalking up and down the aisles even during quizzes. This was the first time he regretted its absense. As Malfoy returned to his seat, Severus drew all his strength and concentration together to sweep up to front of the room and lean on his desk as if he weren't about to collapse.
Only two people appeared less than convinced. Malfoy, who had surely felt him shaking, and Granger, who was just too smart for her own good, and had been trying for the last year and a half to prove to herself and her two friends Potter and Weasley, that the potions master was human like everybody else. So far, she'd had more success on her elf's rights campaign. Minerva found it rather amusing, and kept him up to date on the girl's progress. According to the Gryffindor Head of House, Granger's most salient point so far was that he did, at least once a day, actually injest food in the Great Hall.
Apparently, her belief that he breathed air was shot down as unproven.
His distraction on this topic was abruptly shattered when Harry Potter's cauldron exploded. Mentally castrating himself for his lack of focus during a class with Harry Potter in it, he stalked toward the disruption, glad to see nobody was dead or in need of an immediate trip to the Hospital Wing. Then, the next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, with his head on Malfoy's lap.
"Professor!" the boy exclaimed in relief when he saw Severus's eyes open. "Madam Pomfrey's on the way."
"No! I'm fine, I tripped," he denied, struggling to his feet. Malfoy helped him up, knowing better than to try to stop him or correct the lie. "Class is dismissed. Ten inches on why Potter's potion exploded or Longbottom's smoked, due next class." Then just for the hell of it, "Twenty points from Gryffindor."
He did not wait for them to clear out before fleeing the room himself. He did not know how long he had been out, and therefore, did not know how long until Pomfrey was due to arrive. He sensed more than heard or saw Malfoy following him, but he did not turn around to tell him to leave off. If he collapsed again, he probably shouldn't be alone. The back of his head hurt and he wondered how hard he had hit it when he landed.
When he reached his own quarters, he turned back to meet Malfoy's grey gaze. "I am safely to my rooms now, Mr. Malfoy." Malfoy only held up his hand, which was stained red. The gesture, with his worried expression, said as clearly as words, You're bleeding, sir.
Severus opened his room's wards, and invited the teenager inside with a wave. Malfoy accepted with a pleased grin. Severus took the first chair he came to with less than perfect grace. "I have washcloths in the bathroom," he pointed at a half-open door, "and ice in the backmost storeroom," his finger moved to indicate a short hallway.
"I'll get them, sir," Malfoy volunteered immediately. As soon as he was out of sight, Severus levitated "Care for Pregnant Wizards" into the bedroom where Malfoy wouldn't stumble upon it. The boy returned shortly with both the washcloths and the ice. Severus accepted them, and held them against the back of his head. "What happened, sir?"
"I was Called last night. Our Lord was not pleased that I had not finished developing the new poison he asked for. The fumes of Longbottom's potion reacted with the healing potions in my bloodstream and I nearly fainted. I managed to delay it, but not long enough. I should not have left the support of my desk. Now Poppy will want to examine me, and she'll find that I suffered the Cructacious last night. She'll tell Dumbledore, and he'll want to know what I was doing away from the school." It was not even all lies. Lucius Malfoy could back up parts of it, should Draco ask.
Malfoy winced in sympathy. "It's not easy, is it, Professor?"
"No," he confirmed, then, very carefully, he added, "Being a Death Eater is not all it's cracked up to be."
Malfoy's expression flickered for a moment. "That's heresy, sir," he said quietly, equally carefully. But he did not sound surprised or outraged. That was promising.
Severus nodded his head. "I find, as your teacher, I should at least warn you of what to expect. I am not encouraging you to avoid the future your father has dreamed for you, but neither will I discourage it. It should be your choice, not his. Should you decide to join, rather than being pressured into it, you will be stronger for it. Should you decide not to join, you will be happier for it. The dark lord's way is not the only way, and it may not be yours. It is not my place or Lucius's to decide that it is or isn't."
Malfoy looked away, and the back of his head did not tell him whether this was a positive sign or a dangerous one.
"Were you allowed to choose, sir?"
A bit later than most, but, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy."
"Oh."
A silence fell between them, neither companionable nor tense. "You should go to your next class, but think about it, Mr. Malfoy. It is your future, after all."
The blond nodded, then stood. He had almost reached the door when he turned back. "What sort of future would I have if I said no?"
Severus's mouth twitched into a cynical smile. "First, you'd have to fight against the dark lord, to have that right, then you could do whatever you chose. The most irritating part of this option, is, of course, that the side against the dark lord is full of Gryffindors."
Malfoy smirked, "Well, that's why they're losing, then, isn't it?"
Severus actually laughed. "Very likely, Mr. Malfoy."
Malfoy started to turn back toward the door, then stopped, and frowned thoughtfully at him. "Who's side did you choose, sir?"
Severus stilled, then he gave a small smirk. "My own, Mr. Malfoy."
The boy smiled back, and Severus hoped this conversation would not make its way to Lucius's ear. "You're neatly placed for playing your own side, too, sir." Then he was gone. Severus prayed to whomever was listening that Draco Malfoy was not going to end up in Voldemort's camp, because the young man was far too close to the truth about Severus's loyalties. And killing a student just wouldn't sit well with the Headmaster.
He was in enough trouble on that front as it was.
His left hand drifted to his barely distended waistline, while his right put the washcloth held ice pack aside, cast a minor healing spell on the back of his skull, then joined its companion, resting over his child. He leaned his head back against the chair, and soon fell asleep.
The banging on his door woke him about an hour later. "Who is it?" he asked testily, not opening the entrance.
"Albus and Poppy," the Headmaster announced.
"Go away, I'm fine!"
"That's not what I heard!" Poppy's voice countered.
"A potion exploded, I slipped on the wet floor, end of story!"
"You missed your fourth class," Albus pointed out.
"So dock me two hours pay! Now, leave!"
"Do you have a headache?" Poppy asked, apparently content to do her examination through a closed and warded door.
"Yes! You're giving it to me! Go away!"
There was a muffled conversation between them, then Albus spoke again, "Severus, I'd like to speak with you in my office." That was either ominous, or a trick to get him where Poppy could look over him.
"Wizard's vow that Poppy won't be there?"
There was stunned silence on the other side of his door. Then, "Wizard's vow, Severus."
"Then, I'll floo up now, Headmaster." He beat the old wizard to his office by a goodly amount of time. When the headmaster arrived, Poppy was no longer with him.
"You are avoiding Poppy," Albus opened without preface.
Severus gave him his toned-down sneer. "I can't imagine how you figured that out."
"A wizard's vow, Severus? Over not tricking you into seeing her? Why?" He sounded concerned, "This isn't about Hagrid still, is it?"
Severus shook his head. "It's not Poppy, exactly. Just doctors or mediwitches in general." Best to cut off the suggestion he see someone else before he made it.
"Why, Severus?" He wasn't sure if the extensive use of his first name was because the Headmaster was worried, trying to get Severus to trust him, or because Severus had finally been forgiven for not taking Hagrid's child as his own.
"I don't trust them," Severus answered the question.
The headmaster blinked. "You didn't mind Poppy a few months ago," he pointed out. Severus noticed with an internal smirk that he said nothing about other doctors and mediwitches.
"Well, I do now. I can take care of myself, Albus. I am a Potions Master, which is the next closest thing to a mediwitch."
Albus frowned, not really convinced. "You've already fainted once, Severus."
"I fell and knocked myself out, I did not faint," Severus 'corrected'.
Sighing, the headmaster gave up. "Very well, Severus. But if you faint again, I am putting you in the Hospital Wing, or St. Mungo's if you insist on avoiding Poppy."
"I won't faint again," Severus promised irritably, noticing belatedly that he had admitted to fainting once. He flooed back to his chambers in a huff, read the fainting chapter in the pregnancy book again, decided his classroom needed a teacher's chair, then he went to sleep, forgetting to eat dinner.
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