Harry Potter fic - MPREG (HP/SS) - OMG! Not Another MPREG!
I posted this flocked and since no one defriended me, I'm now posting it publicly.
Title: OMG! Not Another MPREG!
Author: mahaliem (who is quite tempted to use an alias, because omg! mpreg)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: HP/SS, with a bit of HG/RW and HP/DM
Rating: Mature
Warnings: If you'll read mpreg, you'll probably read anything no matter what it contains so why are you bothering with reading this warning?
Summary: Harry and Snape fall in love, have a baby, and live happily ever after - NOT! (except for the baby part which is, unfortunately, true)
Prologue
Why is it always me, Harry wondered.
Two years had passed since Snape killed Dumbledore. Despite learning that it had been on Dumbledore's orders, Harry still didn't like him, but no one could deny that Snape's continued spying on Voldemort was useful.
After searching the Wizarding World, Harry and his friends found all the horcruxes and destroyed them. Harry then confronted Voldemort on a hill not far from Hogwarts, determined to kill him once and for all.
Unfortunately, it hadn't worked. Voldemort had won and Harry had barely escaped from the encounter with his life.
Afterwards, the Order of the Phoenix had scurried around, hunting for some spell, some way to destroy the Dark Lord. It was Arthur Weasley who found a copy of an ancient spell at the Ministry that might, possibly, maybe work. Naturally, the Order was all for it.
It was a complicated powerful spell. It required one marked as an enemy by the targeted wizard and one marked as an ally to produce a child. As the child grew stronger, the wizard would become weaker.
The lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead proclaimed him to be the one marked as the enemy of Voldemort. Harry was not too happy about this, but figured at least this time when he was fucked over he'd actually get a fuck out of it.
But who would the other parent of the child be?
"We could kidnap Bellatrix," Ron suggested.
"Never." Harry felt ill just thinking about it.
Remus nodded his head in agreement. "It should be someone loyal to our cause."
"Ahem." Draco, who'd joined the Order when Voldemort had killed his mother, cleared his throat loudly.
"Someone could infiltrate Voldemort's ranks and take the mark," Ginny said brightly before her mother shushed her.
Draco raised his left arm in the air and began waving it.
In an attempt to be helpful, Harry leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear, "We don't normally raise our hands when we want to say something."
Rolling his eyes, Draco stood and addressed the group. "The candidate must be marked, a member of the Order, and exceedingly clever," he stated. "There is really only one choice."
"Of course," Hermione said excitedly. "I should've realised it before."
Draco grinned.
"It has to be Professor Snape!"
"Snape!" Draco yelled in astonishment at Hermione's pronouncement.
The Order had agreed that Snape was a brilliant idea.
Draco had slumped back into his chair while everyone else congratulated each other on solving the situation so brilliantly.
Harry now wondered if perhaps they had been a mite too hasty to conclude that their problems were over. Especially since his were just beginning.
He was buck naked and faced with the pale scrawny ass of the man he hated most in the world.
"Don't just stand there. Get to it," Snape snarled at him over his shoulder. "And put your back into it."
Harry decided that this was hell.
Part 1 - Conception
"What do you mean, it didn't work?" Harry asked.
Huddled in the corner of the couch in the parlour of 12 Grimmauld Place, his arms locked around his knees, Harry waited for Remus to answer his question.
"I'm so terribly sorry," Remus said gently, "but Severus didn't conceive. I'm afraid you're going to have to try again."
Harry looked mutinous as Remus continued. "You'll have to continue to... um.... have relations with him until it's determined that he's pregnant."
"Couldn't I just do it in a jar or something?" Harry asked.
"We went over this already. There's a mixture of magical entities that must happen for the conception to take place and for the spell to work." Remus sat on the couch and looked at Harry with concern. "Is there something you wish to discuss with me? Some way I might be able to help you with this task?"
There had to be a magic spell that let you sink through the floor, Harry thought. He'd have to ask Hermione to research it for him.
"Snape makes me nervous," Harry mumbled.
"I'm sure the two of you should be able to work together."
Harry shook his head. "He keeps yelling at me, ordering me about."
Remus stilled and his worried interest changed into some much more avid. "Really? Severus orders you? How exactly?"
"You know." Harry gave a little shrug.
"Does he make you to beg?" Remus asked intently. "Demands that you get down on your knees? Orders you to call him Master?"
"No!" Harry stared at Remus and wondered what in the world had gotten into him to think such things. "He just tells me what to do and how to do it."
"Oh." Remus seemed disappointed with his answer. "I can only suggest that you follow Severus' directions in this matter. He is the more experienced of the two of you."
Harry glumly nodded.
* * *
"Mister Potter, that is not a cauldron you are stirring, though if it were you'd still be doing a miserable job of it," Snape barked. "Must I demonstrate the correct motion again?"
"No, no," Harry said hurriedly.
"It may be that your lack of proper equipment is the true hindrance of this endeavor."
Harry looked down at said equipment which seemed to be wilting. This wilting did not go unnoticed by the other participant.
"Even if you were not homosexual, you would most decidedly be the last of the Potter line if this is an example of your ability to procreate."
This was not going work, Harry thought as he removed Snape's legs from his shoulders and moved away.
* * *
"So," Malfoy said, lowering himself onto the couch next to Harry, "is Snape up the duff yet?"
Harry scowled. "No."
He scooted away from Malfoy. Why did the prat always have to sit so close to him anyway?
"What's the problem then?" Malfoy asked, shifting until their legs were once more pressed together.
Harry simply scowled again in reply. He felt a breeze against his ear. The drafts were certainly strange in this house.
"I heard that you're having problems getting and keeping it up," Malfoy said in a low voice. "I could help you with that."
"How?" Harry said irritably. He felt a slight pain on his earlobe. He brushed at the side of his head, hoping whatever bug had bitten him would bite Malfoy instead.
"Maybe you should try it with a more attractive partner," Malfoy murmured. "Perhaps a partner who's blond?"
Harry thought for a moment. If Snape was better looking, it might help matters. Feeling much better about things, he stood up. Draco, who had been leaning against him, fell across the space he'd vacated.
"I'm not sure how Snape would look with blond hair," Harry said, "but otherwise it's a pretty good idea. Thanks, Malfoy."
Despite the cessation of hostilities between them, it must have still shocked Malfoy that Harry had thanked him for his advice. It was the only possible explanation for the stunned expression on Malfoy's face as Harry left the room.
* * *
"You want me to do what?" Snape roared.
"Wash your hair," Harry repeated.
"And if I refuse?"
"I'll order Dobby to wash it for you."
Snape looked down his nose at him.
"If you do, then that elf will be dissected and his parts preserved in a jar before the sun goes down."
"Then I'll get Remus and Mister Weasley to do it." Harry gripped Snape's hips tighter.
"They wouldn't dare," Snape said on a huff of breath. "They're much too wise to risk my wrath."
"Fine. I guess I'll just have to hex you with a cloud that rains down water and shampoo onto your head wherever you go." When Snape ignored that threat, Harry added, "Shampoo that smells like vanilla."
"I loathe the scent of vanilla. It's insipid."
"Then you'd better wash your hair yourself."
There was no answer as Snape was too busy letting out a long shuddering gasp on top of Harry. Feeling the muscles around him clench was enough to push Harry to his climax as well.
Although the appearance of his partner hadn't been improved, the discussion had at least kept him from insulting Harry to the point where he couldn't perform. Harry would have to thank Malfoy again for his suggestion.
* * *
"Still no baby?" Mister Weasley asked Harry at breakfast a few days later.
Harry shook his head and shoveled another fork full of eggs into his mouth hoping that would be a hint that the conversation was at an end.
The hint was too subtle.
"Everything's working properly, though, isn't it?" Mister Weasley glanced down at Harry's crotch.
Harry swallowed the mouthful of eggs. Hermione had told him a spell for sinking into the floor was completely unnecessary. She'd suggested that if he wanted to disappear, he had an invisibility cloak or could apparate.
He was going to have to search for that spell himself.
"Everything's working okay," Harry mumbled.
Mister Weasley elbowed him. "Giving it to Professor Snape as often as possible are you?"
Maybe he should forget about the whole sinking into the floor thing and just commit suicide.
"Um... yes, sir. Twice on most nights."
"Seems there should be a bun in the oven by now."
Mister Weasley paused for a moment, as if he was trying to approach a subject delicately. Harry shuddered to think of what it might be.
"Harry," he said, his voice lowered to a whisper, "do you know how to reproduce a wizarding child?"
"I told you, I've been doing it twice a night," Harry said in a normal tone, feeling a bit confused.
Mister Weasley shushed him quickly and glanced around the empty kitchen to see if anyone else was listening.
"Wizards conceive children a bit differently from Muggles," Mister Weasley confided.
"I sort of figured that one out," Harry answered. "I am the one doing it with another male every night to get him pregnant."
"No, not that." Mister Weasley thought for a second. "Not just that. The trick for wizards is that there must be real affection between the participants."
Harry stared at him in shock.
"That's why a good number of wizarding families only have one or two children and why we Weasleys have a houseful," Mister Weasley added.
"Then this whole idea is doomed," Harry stated." There will never be any affection between myself and Snape."
"There's a way around it, though." Mister Weasley leaned forward and lowered his voice so that Harry had to strain to hear him. "If at least one of you is feeling a bit... say... appreciative, then it can substitute for affection."
"Appreciative? Why would someone be feeling..." Harry's words trailed off as he figured out the answer to his own question.
Mister Weasley nodded. "That's right. The secret is foreplay."
* * *
"Potter, what do you think you're doing?" Snape hissed.
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"At the moment I would say that you were trying to drown my right nipple in an ocean of your repulsive saliva."
Harry bit down on the flesh beneath his mouth causing Snape to let out a yelp, then raised his head to see Snape glaring at him.
If looks could kill, then the Order would have had to practice necromancy to have Harry fighting at their side.
"I'm trying to please you," Harry snapped.
"Then you are failing miserably. If you wish to please me may I suggest that you use a time turner to return to the past, confront your father, and render him impotent so that you cease to exist."
Letting out a sigh, Harry eased off of Snape's bony body. "This isn't working,"
"A monumental understatement."
Harry eyed Snape hesitantly. "Maybe... maybe you could tell me what you like." When Snape looked at him suspiciously, Harry continued. "You know, to make sure that it's good for you."
Harry braced himself for another caustic insult. When none emerged he glanced at Snape who was looking at him stunned. He watched as Snape took several breaths before replying.
"I would not find a massage too repugnant."
"Oh." Harry stayed where he was for a moment, a bit startled at the lack of attack on him or his parentage before rising from the bed. "I suppose we'll need some sort of lotion or oil then."
"In the drawer, Potter."
Retrieving a jar from the drawer indicated, Harry looked it over for a moment. It looked fairly similar to the substance they'd been using as lubricant. When he opened it, however, he found the smell to be more enticing. Although he wanted to ask what was in it he didn't. He wasn't in the mood for a lecture about how he should've paid attention during Potions class.
"Turn over," Harry said and waited while Snape complied.
Harry began to warm up a dab of lotion in his hands while he thought of how to go about giving Snape a massage. The logical place to start would be at Snape's shoulders. Harry looked at them and then dismissed that idea. He'd have to work up his courage again before he straddled Snape.
Instead he moved so that he was seated near Snape's feet. Carefully he lifted Snape's right foot from the bed and began to massage it with the lotion.
As he rubbed, Snape let out a low, husky moan. The tone of the moan was so needy and wanton that Harry felt his body respond.
Maybe Mister Weasley knew what he was talking about.
* * *
"Congratulations, Harry!"
Harry glanced up from his dinner the next night to where Remus was entering the dining room.
"The test results are in and have confirmed that you're going to be a father."
As assorted Weasleys shouted their own congratulations, Harry's eyes met Snape's across the table. Ron slapped Harry on the back.
"Guess that means you have your nights free again. The lot of us should go out tonight and celebrate."
Harry nodded his agreement and listened idly as Ron and Hermione made plans. When Snape slammed his fork down on the table and stomped away, Harry thought he was the only one who noticed.
Part 2 - The Pregnancy
Harry slowly opened the door to Snape's rooms. While they'd been trying to conceive, Snape had set the wards of the room to allow Harry access. He must have forgotten to alter them back.
Harry shut the door behind him.
"Professor Snape?"
A candle blazed to life and Harry could see Snape shift to sit up in bed. His usual glare seemed harsher than usual. This shocked Harry because he hadn't thought that was possible.
"If you think for one moment Mister Potter that we are going to continue our liaisons then I suggest that you take your-"
"No!" Harry said hurriedly. "No, I'm not here because of... of that. I wouldn't want to ever, ever do that again."
The scowl on Snape's face deepened.
"I mean, not that it was terrible or anything. Okay, maybe it wasn't all that good because you really aren't very nice and you aren't even close to being my type and -"
"Mister Potter, did you come in here for the purpose of insulting me or is that an interesting side effect?"
"I came because everyone was congratulating me, like you didn't have anything to do with it. It didn't seem right to be out with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione while you stayed here alone."
"Ah, you caught me, Mister Potter. I was going to pine away at the loss of your constant and annoying presence in my room."
Harry turned to leave, then paused. "You're doing okay, then?"
"Except for being awakened out of a deep sleep by an imbecile, I am quite fine."
Feeling oddly dejected, Harry left and made his way to his room.
An hour later, Harry found himself unable to sleep. It was the first night he'd spent in his own bed in weeks. It seemed much too big and empty.
After tossing and turning, Harry rose and once more made the trek from his bedroom to Snape's.
"Professor?" Harry said quietly upon entering.
There was a rustle of blankets.
"Oh for..." Harry heard Snape sigh and a candle lit, illuminating the room. "If you insist upon inflicting yourself on me, Mister Potter, then might I suggest that you at least make yourself useful?"
Harry's breath caught in his throat. Did Snape want him to... to....
His thoughts must have shown on his face for Snape snarled at him.
"I meant for you to massage me. My feet are waiting."
Harry retrieved the jar and went to work.
* * *
"Mister Weasley?"
Harry had been looking for a chance to talk to Ron's father for weeks, but it seemed as though they were never alone. This morning, when Mister Weasley had excused himself from breakfast at Grimmauld Place to ready himself for work, Harry had stepped out of the kitchen after him.
"What is it, Harry?"
"Your wife's been pregnant several times and I was just wondering if you could give me any advice as to what I should expect to happen to Snape."
Mister Weasley cocked his head to the side and hmmed for a moment while he thought.
"First of all, since the Professor's a male, things are going to be a bit different. But I would expect that at this point, he may tire easily. I doubt if Professor Snape will admit it though, so may want to watch for that."
Harry nodded his head. He could do that.
"Also, if I recall correctly, Molly became a little cranky at this point."
From the kitchen arose a clatter of pots and pans and the distinctive sound of china shattering. Yelps and screams could be heard with Snape's voice in the background bellowing his displeasure.
Various Weasleys, accompanied by Hermione and Remus raced into the room in an effort to escape. They were not unscathed, for most of them were splattered with eggs and jam. Ron and George were dripping pumpkin juice onto the carpet.
"He'll become cranky?" Harry asked Mister Weasley. "How will I be able to tell?"
* * *
Harry glared at Snape. "I hate you."
"I don't care in the slightest how you feel about me. I never have."
"You're a mean, nasty git who's never had any friends and never will"
"A circumstance that doesn't concern me in the slightest."
"But this time," Harry continued, "you've really done it. If you think for one moment that I'm going to forget how you -"
"Oh!" Snape interrupted. He clutched at the slight roundness of his stomach, a look of surprise on his face. "I believe the baby has just made its presence known."
"The baby kicked?" Harry repeated. He moved forward and placed his hand next to Snape's.
Underneath his palm he felt a slight flutter.
"I felt it! I felt our baby!" Harry said excitedly.
As they stood there together, Harry smiled. He'd suspected that Snape had been feeling the baby kick for several days now. But Snape was too manipulative, too sneaky to ever simply announce it. He'd waited until it was most advantageous to do so. It had been the perfect way for Snape to bring their fight to a halt.
Which was the entire reason why Harry had picked a fight to begin with.
* * *
Ron cornered Harry in the parlor one rainy afternoon.
"Harry," he said nervously. "Not sure how to ask this, but..." Ron's voice trailed off.
"Just say it, Ron."
Ron nodded, then glanced around to see if anyone was listening. "Are you sleeping with Snape?"
"Why does everyone keep asking that?" Harry snapped. "I get that same question from Draco at least once a week. At least you didn't rub my backside when you asked."
Ron wore a puzzled expression on his face for a second before shaking it away.
"That doesn't answer my question. Are you and the greasy git shagging?'
Harry folded his arms across his chest. "That greasy git is the mother, I mean the father.... No that's still not right." Harry thought for a moment, then tried again. "He's bearing my child and I would appreciate it if you would remember that fact and refer to him with a little respect."
Ron's mouth dropped open. It took a couple of tries before words began to emerge. "You are, aren't you? You and Snape are making the beast with two backs."
Harry hadn't meant to ever have sex with Snape again. But Snape liked to have his feet rubbed. Every time Harry rubbed his feet, Snape would moan and writhe and Harry would get turned on to the point where he was practically panting. Then Snape would order him not to dally and to get on with it and... and it didn't mean that he liked Snape or anything.
"Blimey," Ron said, still trying to take in the information. "You and Snape. Never thought of Snape in that way. Makes my stomach churn. But he'd have to be fairly good at it to still have you interested. And to think, I spent all that time pitying you for having to boff him when you were having a right good time of it."
Harry sighed. The entire situation couldn't possibly get worse.
"Saaay," Ron said slowly, "if Snape's so bloody talented, do you think he might be willing to give me and Hermione a spot of advice?"
Or maybe it could.
* * *
"How's the baby going to get out?" Harry asked one night while lying next to Snape.
"The same way as he got in."
"Eww."
"With a spell, you idiot," Snape growled. "When the baby is deemed ready, a spell will be performed that transports the baby outside of my body."
"That's good," Harry said. He yawned, stretched, and then snuggled closer. He only moved when Snape elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
* * *
"I am not naming our child Turnip," Harry stated adamantly.
"The name is Turpin. There are many Turpins in the Prince family tree. You may remember Lisa Turpin. She was from a less notable branch."
"Turnips don't grow on trees." Harry ducked after he spoke, just in case. Snape had never hit him, but there was always a first time. No blow fell, which only encouraged him. "I don't see why we can't name him James."
Snape's face grew red with anger.
"Or Sirius," Harry suggested, mostly to see if he could make steam come out of Snape's ears. The one time he'd mentioned that perhaps not all the weight being gained was baby related he could've sworn he saw little wisps next to Snape's head.
"Why don't we call him Dunderhead, after his father?"
"Is that your middle name?" Harry asked. Darn, still no steam. "In any case, Dunderhead would be better than Turnip."
"The name is Turpin," Snape hissed between clenched teeth.
* * *
Harry tried to open the door, but Snape must have changed the wards. Damn, the bastard worked quickly. Withdrawing his wand, Harry blasted through the barrier and flung open the door.
Snape whirled to face him, his wand held tightly in his hand.
"It wasn't what it looked like," Harry said, trying to be calm.
"Are you telling me that you and Mister Malfoy were not kissing?" Snape's voice was shaking with emotion.
"No. I mean yes, but it wasn't like that. We just came back from a mission where I saved Malfoy from a group of Death Eaters. He was grateful."
Snape gave a bitter laugh. "And his gratitude required his tongue to be down your throat?"
"He was really, really grateful."
Snape moved closer and Harry steeled himself not to take a step back.
"Then perhaps you can explain why Mister Malfoy's legs were wrapped around your waist while he demonstrated his appreciation to you for saving his life.
Harry swallowed hard. "I can't explain because I have no idea what that was about. Malfoy's always been weird. I think it may be due to inbreeding."
Snape stilled and stared at Harry with a peculiar look upon his face. Harry realised that the expression might actually be some sort of a smile.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Harry asked.
"I never imagined that you being a complete and utter fool would be one of your better traits."
For a moment, Harry frowned before dismissing the matter. He'd work out what might be going on in Snape' head later. For now, it was enough that he didn't seem mad at him anymore.
"It's okay," Harry said in an effort to make Snape feel better. "I know it's just your hormones acting up."
A moment later Harry ran out the bedroom door, hexes exploding around him. He decided that might not have been the right thing to say.
* * *
Snape lay on his back and waited for it to be time to spell the baby out of him.
"As I suspected, Molly Weasley and the other women greatly exaggerated the pain of labor."
Harry looked doubtful while Molly glared at Snape.
Two hours later the walls began to melt from the force of Snape's magic hitting them.
"I'll kill you, Potter for ever sticking that measly prick of yours inside me," Snape snarled. "I'll make you wish you'd died with your parents. Voldemort's Cruciatus curse will seem like a feather's tickle by the time I get through with you!"
"Do the spell! Do the spell!" Harry begged Remus and Arthur.
"As for those reprobate associates of yours, I'll turn them into a large pair of boots and give them to Hagrid. For eternity they'll be filled by Hagrid's smelly feet as he deals with the messes made by his loathsome creatures."
Remus and Arthur glanced at each other while Molly smiled smugly.
Remus cleared his throat. "I do believe now would be a good time to do the spell."
Part 3 - The Baby
Harry looked at the baby. She was red in the face and her mouth was scrunched. The few tufts of hair on her head were sticking straight up. Also, he didn't realize that babies ever had noses that size. Her fists were flailing and she was screaming at the top of the lungs.
It was truly the ugliest and most ill-tempered baby he'd ever seen.
Molly Weasley had delivered her, cleaned her up, and then given her to Harry to hold. Now Harry didn't so much hand her to Snape as push her at him.
"Yes, the world is a truly terrible place, isn't it," Snape said calmly to the bundle in his arms. As the baby continued to squall, he added conversationally, "Exactly. I've thought the same thing myself."
The baby's face reddened even more and a noxious odor began to emanate from it.
"An excellent commentary on the situation, my dear," Snape noted.
Harry groaned. Who could've guessed that Snape's personality would breed true?
* * *
"You really need to name her." Hermione, who was sitting on a kitchen chair, bounced the infant on her knee.
The baby screamed in indignation.
"We'll name her as soon as we agree."
"Poor thing will never have a name, then." Ron took the baby from Hermione and tossed her in the air, catching her again in his large hands. In retaliation, the baby spat up at him. However Ron had learned to erect a shield after the first dozen times she'd pulled that stunt.
"Snape still refuses to consider anything but Turnip," Harry stated. He took his daughter from Ron and held her up against his shoulder. She immediately latched onto a lock of his hair with her tiny fists and he winced as she pulled. "I've told him that I'd be happy with Eileen Lily, but he won't budge on the subject."
"He still wants to name her Turpin, despite her not being a boy?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't think that matters anymore. Now it's all about winning the argument. He rubbed the baby's back as she nuzzled against him, her drool wetting his robe. "Although Turnip might suit her."
Hermione rose to her feet and approached Harry. "Harry, if you and Snape can't even agree on a name that doesn't bode well for her future. What kind of family life is she going to have?"
"I don't know. Quite frankly, there are times when I'm tempted to give her to Hagrid. He has a talent for handling wild and dangerous beasts."
Hermione smiled, but scolded him with a mildly reproving "Harry!"
"Look at that," Ron said, pointing at the baby lying on Harry's shoulder. "She's sleeping. You must have the magic touch, Harry."
"She must know her Daddy," Hermione said softly.
"Actually," Harry answered while trying to detangle his hair from his daughter's fingers, "whenever she does something like tug on my hair, it seems to calm and relax her."
"Ahhh," said Ron and Hermione in understanding.
"Hermione," Ron said, turning toward her. "After we get married, I think I'd like to wait for a while before having children."
Hermione looked at the baby in Harry's arms. "Good idea."
* * *
Harry studied the baby closely as she lay sleeping in her crib. A trail of drool was wetting the bed linens.
"You're sure she's not possessed or anything, right?"
Snape sniffed. "My daughter is the most perfect specimen of infanthood. She simply uses the only methods available to her to convey her grievous disgust with the world."
"Really? So that whole projectile vomiting thing is normal?"
As an answer, Snape scowled at him.
"How's she supposed to destroy Voldemort, anyway?" Harry asked.
"Don't you ever pay attention? Every day this child lives, Voldemort weakens. In a year, he won't have the power to cast an Unforgivable. If he's still alive in five, he'll barely be able to perform a Lumos."
"Oh," said Harry.
Lately he'd been thinking that Voldemort would be destroyed from one night of babysitting.
And Harry had been looking forward to a night out.
* * *
"How dare you!" Snape screamed at him.
Harry ducked a hex. When it came to protecting offspring, Snape could probably give a mother grizzly a run for her money.
"I can't believe you insulted your own child like that, Potter!"
Another curse was hurled his way causing Harry to create a shield for protection.
"All right, all right," Harry yelled in defeat. "I'm sorry. She just seems so darn loyal to you that almost no one else can hold her. I'm sorry I ever suggested that she might become a Hufflepuff."
* * *
His heart pounding in his chest, Harry crawled to where Snape had collapsed on the floor of the nursery. With relief, he saw that Snape was still breathing, despite all the blood that covered him. He didn't know when he'd started caring for the git. Having sex with Snape every night had obviously affected his brain.
Next to Snape's body was his wand which Harry snatched up. His own wand had been shattered in the barrage of spells that had taken down Snape.
Somehow Voldemort had found 12 Grimmauld Place and his Death Eaters had swarmed over the residence. In the background, Harry could hear screams and shouts as curses were fired. His friends had come to their aid and were keeping Voldemort's minions busy.
Too bad there was still Voldemort to deal with.
"Crucio!"
Harry screamed as Voldemort's curse hit him. He writhed as Voldemort walked past him to grab one-handedly the baby from its crib.
"You thought you could defeat me, Potter?" Voldemort sneered at him. The Dark Lord looked at the baby he held. "You thought this child would destroy me?"
Harry watched as Voldemort lifted the baby up as he spoke until her face was level with his. Even through his pain, Harry knew what Voldemort was doing wasn't a good idea.
The baby spat up hitting Voldemort between his shiny red eyes.
Reeling back in surprise and disgust, Voldemort lost control of the Cruciatus curse. Harry took advantage of the moment and aimed Snape's wand.
"Avada Kedavra!" Harry yelled.
Voldemort stiffened and fell to the floor.
Staggering to his feet, Harry made his way to where his daughter was sprawled across a now very dead Dark Lord. Picking her up, he held her close to his chest.
"You'd think he'd learn to stop trying to kill Potter babies, wouldn't you?" he crooned softly to her.
She started to yowl. Although Harry knew it was for her bottle, he let himself believe that it was a cry of triumph.
He had the best daughter in the world.
* * *
"You're actually calling her Turnip?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded. "Turnip Snape," he confirmed. "We figured we'd better compromise on a name damn quick because anything is better than The Girl Who Spewed, which is what the newspapers are calling her." He gave Hermione a dirty look. "And don't think I don't know who suggested that last word in order to publicise their elfish welfare society."
Hermione contrived to look innocent.
Ron didn't appear to notice their exchange. "Who would have thought having a tetchy stomach would be considered heroic?"
Hermione smiled at him then turned to Harry. "Speaking of heroics, did you know Ron is quite a hero, too? He saved Remus and Draco's life during the battle."
Ron turned almost as red as his hair. "I didn't do much."
Hermione shook her head. "That's not what Remus and Draco think. Draco makes a point of stopping by and thanking Ron every day."
"That he does." Ron frowned slightly. "I just wish he'd stop rubbing my arse whenever he thanks me."
"He can't help it," Harry said. "It's the inbreeding."
"Right. The inbreeding," Ron repeated, nodding but not quite believing it.
* * *
Harry was standing next to Turnip's crib, gazing down at her, when Snape joined him.
"Do stop acting maudlin."
"I'm not," Harry protested. As Snape stared at him, Harry purposely averted his eyes. "And don't use legilimency on me."
"I don't need to. Your thoughts are woefully transparent. You, myself, and our child have had our existences defined by the presence of Voldemort. You are obviously wondering what the future holds for us now that he is a thing of the past."
Harry had actually been wondering whether or not to use a sleeping potion on the baby because he was getting tired of getting up several times a night to feed her.
"Wow," he said to Snape. "That's exactly what I was thinking."
"It is unnecessary for you to ponder your future, Potter. You will never be at loose ends for now that we are a family you will always have a purpose in life."
Harry nodded solemnly. "Being a good father to our daughter."
Snape hesitated for a moment. "That, too, but I was referring to your massaging ability. Come to bed, Potter. My feet await."
Well, thought Harry, it was better than being completely useless. Maybe.
The End
Title: OMG! Not Another MPREG!
Author: mahaliem (who is quite tempted to use an alias, because omg! mpreg)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: HP/SS, with a bit of HG/RW and HP/DM
Rating: Mature
Warnings: If you'll read mpreg, you'll probably read anything no matter what it contains so why are you bothering with reading this warning?
Summary: Harry and Snape fall in love, have a baby, and live happily ever after - NOT! (except for the baby part which is, unfortunately, true)
Prologue
Why is it always me, Harry wondered.
Two years had passed since Snape killed Dumbledore. Despite learning that it had been on Dumbledore's orders, Harry still didn't like him, but no one could deny that Snape's continued spying on Voldemort was useful.
After searching the Wizarding World, Harry and his friends found all the horcruxes and destroyed them. Harry then confronted Voldemort on a hill not far from Hogwarts, determined to kill him once and for all.
Unfortunately, it hadn't worked. Voldemort had won and Harry had barely escaped from the encounter with his life.
Afterwards, the Order of the Phoenix had scurried around, hunting for some spell, some way to destroy the Dark Lord. It was Arthur Weasley who found a copy of an ancient spell at the Ministry that might, possibly, maybe work. Naturally, the Order was all for it.
It was a complicated powerful spell. It required one marked as an enemy by the targeted wizard and one marked as an ally to produce a child. As the child grew stronger, the wizard would become weaker.
The lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead proclaimed him to be the one marked as the enemy of Voldemort. Harry was not too happy about this, but figured at least this time when he was fucked over he'd actually get a fuck out of it.
But who would the other parent of the child be?
"We could kidnap Bellatrix," Ron suggested.
"Never." Harry felt ill just thinking about it.
Remus nodded his head in agreement. "It should be someone loyal to our cause."
"Ahem." Draco, who'd joined the Order when Voldemort had killed his mother, cleared his throat loudly.
"Someone could infiltrate Voldemort's ranks and take the mark," Ginny said brightly before her mother shushed her.
Draco raised his left arm in the air and began waving it.
In an attempt to be helpful, Harry leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear, "We don't normally raise our hands when we want to say something."
Rolling his eyes, Draco stood and addressed the group. "The candidate must be marked, a member of the Order, and exceedingly clever," he stated. "There is really only one choice."
"Of course," Hermione said excitedly. "I should've realised it before."
Draco grinned.
"It has to be Professor Snape!"
"Snape!" Draco yelled in astonishment at Hermione's pronouncement.
The Order had agreed that Snape was a brilliant idea.
Draco had slumped back into his chair while everyone else congratulated each other on solving the situation so brilliantly.
Harry now wondered if perhaps they had been a mite too hasty to conclude that their problems were over. Especially since his were just beginning.
He was buck naked and faced with the pale scrawny ass of the man he hated most in the world.
"Don't just stand there. Get to it," Snape snarled at him over his shoulder. "And put your back into it."
Harry decided that this was hell.
Part 1 - Conception
"What do you mean, it didn't work?" Harry asked.
Huddled in the corner of the couch in the parlour of 12 Grimmauld Place, his arms locked around his knees, Harry waited for Remus to answer his question.
"I'm so terribly sorry," Remus said gently, "but Severus didn't conceive. I'm afraid you're going to have to try again."
Harry looked mutinous as Remus continued. "You'll have to continue to... um.... have relations with him until it's determined that he's pregnant."
"Couldn't I just do it in a jar or something?" Harry asked.
"We went over this already. There's a mixture of magical entities that must happen for the conception to take place and for the spell to work." Remus sat on the couch and looked at Harry with concern. "Is there something you wish to discuss with me? Some way I might be able to help you with this task?"
There had to be a magic spell that let you sink through the floor, Harry thought. He'd have to ask Hermione to research it for him.
"Snape makes me nervous," Harry mumbled.
"I'm sure the two of you should be able to work together."
Harry shook his head. "He keeps yelling at me, ordering me about."
Remus stilled and his worried interest changed into some much more avid. "Really? Severus orders you? How exactly?"
"You know." Harry gave a little shrug.
"Does he make you to beg?" Remus asked intently. "Demands that you get down on your knees? Orders you to call him Master?"
"No!" Harry stared at Remus and wondered what in the world had gotten into him to think such things. "He just tells me what to do and how to do it."
"Oh." Remus seemed disappointed with his answer. "I can only suggest that you follow Severus' directions in this matter. He is the more experienced of the two of you."
Harry glumly nodded.
* * *
"Mister Potter, that is not a cauldron you are stirring, though if it were you'd still be doing a miserable job of it," Snape barked. "Must I demonstrate the correct motion again?"
"No, no," Harry said hurriedly.
"It may be that your lack of proper equipment is the true hindrance of this endeavor."
Harry looked down at said equipment which seemed to be wilting. This wilting did not go unnoticed by the other participant.
"Even if you were not homosexual, you would most decidedly be the last of the Potter line if this is an example of your ability to procreate."
This was not going work, Harry thought as he removed Snape's legs from his shoulders and moved away.
* * *
"So," Malfoy said, lowering himself onto the couch next to Harry, "is Snape up the duff yet?"
Harry scowled. "No."
He scooted away from Malfoy. Why did the prat always have to sit so close to him anyway?
"What's the problem then?" Malfoy asked, shifting until their legs were once more pressed together.
Harry simply scowled again in reply. He felt a breeze against his ear. The drafts were certainly strange in this house.
"I heard that you're having problems getting and keeping it up," Malfoy said in a low voice. "I could help you with that."
"How?" Harry said irritably. He felt a slight pain on his earlobe. He brushed at the side of his head, hoping whatever bug had bitten him would bite Malfoy instead.
"Maybe you should try it with a more attractive partner," Malfoy murmured. "Perhaps a partner who's blond?"
Harry thought for a moment. If Snape was better looking, it might help matters. Feeling much better about things, he stood up. Draco, who had been leaning against him, fell across the space he'd vacated.
"I'm not sure how Snape would look with blond hair," Harry said, "but otherwise it's a pretty good idea. Thanks, Malfoy."
Despite the cessation of hostilities between them, it must have still shocked Malfoy that Harry had thanked him for his advice. It was the only possible explanation for the stunned expression on Malfoy's face as Harry left the room.
* * *
"You want me to do what?" Snape roared.
"Wash your hair," Harry repeated.
"And if I refuse?"
"I'll order Dobby to wash it for you."
Snape looked down his nose at him.
"If you do, then that elf will be dissected and his parts preserved in a jar before the sun goes down."
"Then I'll get Remus and Mister Weasley to do it." Harry gripped Snape's hips tighter.
"They wouldn't dare," Snape said on a huff of breath. "They're much too wise to risk my wrath."
"Fine. I guess I'll just have to hex you with a cloud that rains down water and shampoo onto your head wherever you go." When Snape ignored that threat, Harry added, "Shampoo that smells like vanilla."
"I loathe the scent of vanilla. It's insipid."
"Then you'd better wash your hair yourself."
There was no answer as Snape was too busy letting out a long shuddering gasp on top of Harry. Feeling the muscles around him clench was enough to push Harry to his climax as well.
Although the appearance of his partner hadn't been improved, the discussion had at least kept him from insulting Harry to the point where he couldn't perform. Harry would have to thank Malfoy again for his suggestion.
* * *
"Still no baby?" Mister Weasley asked Harry at breakfast a few days later.
Harry shook his head and shoveled another fork full of eggs into his mouth hoping that would be a hint that the conversation was at an end.
The hint was too subtle.
"Everything's working properly, though, isn't it?" Mister Weasley glanced down at Harry's crotch.
Harry swallowed the mouthful of eggs. Hermione had told him a spell for sinking into the floor was completely unnecessary. She'd suggested that if he wanted to disappear, he had an invisibility cloak or could apparate.
He was going to have to search for that spell himself.
"Everything's working okay," Harry mumbled.
Mister Weasley elbowed him. "Giving it to Professor Snape as often as possible are you?"
Maybe he should forget about the whole sinking into the floor thing and just commit suicide.
"Um... yes, sir. Twice on most nights."
"Seems there should be a bun in the oven by now."
Mister Weasley paused for a moment, as if he was trying to approach a subject delicately. Harry shuddered to think of what it might be.
"Harry," he said, his voice lowered to a whisper, "do you know how to reproduce a wizarding child?"
"I told you, I've been doing it twice a night," Harry said in a normal tone, feeling a bit confused.
Mister Weasley shushed him quickly and glanced around the empty kitchen to see if anyone else was listening.
"Wizards conceive children a bit differently from Muggles," Mister Weasley confided.
"I sort of figured that one out," Harry answered. "I am the one doing it with another male every night to get him pregnant."
"No, not that." Mister Weasley thought for a second. "Not just that. The trick for wizards is that there must be real affection between the participants."
Harry stared at him in shock.
"That's why a good number of wizarding families only have one or two children and why we Weasleys have a houseful," Mister Weasley added.
"Then this whole idea is doomed," Harry stated." There will never be any affection between myself and Snape."
"There's a way around it, though." Mister Weasley leaned forward and lowered his voice so that Harry had to strain to hear him. "If at least one of you is feeling a bit... say... appreciative, then it can substitute for affection."
"Appreciative? Why would someone be feeling..." Harry's words trailed off as he figured out the answer to his own question.
Mister Weasley nodded. "That's right. The secret is foreplay."
* * *
"Potter, what do you think you're doing?" Snape hissed.
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"At the moment I would say that you were trying to drown my right nipple in an ocean of your repulsive saliva."
Harry bit down on the flesh beneath his mouth causing Snape to let out a yelp, then raised his head to see Snape glaring at him.
If looks could kill, then the Order would have had to practice necromancy to have Harry fighting at their side.
"I'm trying to please you," Harry snapped.
"Then you are failing miserably. If you wish to please me may I suggest that you use a time turner to return to the past, confront your father, and render him impotent so that you cease to exist."
Letting out a sigh, Harry eased off of Snape's bony body. "This isn't working,"
"A monumental understatement."
Harry eyed Snape hesitantly. "Maybe... maybe you could tell me what you like." When Snape looked at him suspiciously, Harry continued. "You know, to make sure that it's good for you."
Harry braced himself for another caustic insult. When none emerged he glanced at Snape who was looking at him stunned. He watched as Snape took several breaths before replying.
"I would not find a massage too repugnant."
"Oh." Harry stayed where he was for a moment, a bit startled at the lack of attack on him or his parentage before rising from the bed. "I suppose we'll need some sort of lotion or oil then."
"In the drawer, Potter."
Retrieving a jar from the drawer indicated, Harry looked it over for a moment. It looked fairly similar to the substance they'd been using as lubricant. When he opened it, however, he found the smell to be more enticing. Although he wanted to ask what was in it he didn't. He wasn't in the mood for a lecture about how he should've paid attention during Potions class.
"Turn over," Harry said and waited while Snape complied.
Harry began to warm up a dab of lotion in his hands while he thought of how to go about giving Snape a massage. The logical place to start would be at Snape's shoulders. Harry looked at them and then dismissed that idea. He'd have to work up his courage again before he straddled Snape.
Instead he moved so that he was seated near Snape's feet. Carefully he lifted Snape's right foot from the bed and began to massage it with the lotion.
As he rubbed, Snape let out a low, husky moan. The tone of the moan was so needy and wanton that Harry felt his body respond.
Maybe Mister Weasley knew what he was talking about.
* * *
"Congratulations, Harry!"
Harry glanced up from his dinner the next night to where Remus was entering the dining room.
"The test results are in and have confirmed that you're going to be a father."
As assorted Weasleys shouted their own congratulations, Harry's eyes met Snape's across the table. Ron slapped Harry on the back.
"Guess that means you have your nights free again. The lot of us should go out tonight and celebrate."
Harry nodded his agreement and listened idly as Ron and Hermione made plans. When Snape slammed his fork down on the table and stomped away, Harry thought he was the only one who noticed.
Part 2 - The Pregnancy
Harry slowly opened the door to Snape's rooms. While they'd been trying to conceive, Snape had set the wards of the room to allow Harry access. He must have forgotten to alter them back.
Harry shut the door behind him.
"Professor Snape?"
A candle blazed to life and Harry could see Snape shift to sit up in bed. His usual glare seemed harsher than usual. This shocked Harry because he hadn't thought that was possible.
"If you think for one moment Mister Potter that we are going to continue our liaisons then I suggest that you take your-"
"No!" Harry said hurriedly. "No, I'm not here because of... of that. I wouldn't want to ever, ever do that again."
The scowl on Snape's face deepened.
"I mean, not that it was terrible or anything. Okay, maybe it wasn't all that good because you really aren't very nice and you aren't even close to being my type and -"
"Mister Potter, did you come in here for the purpose of insulting me or is that an interesting side effect?"
"I came because everyone was congratulating me, like you didn't have anything to do with it. It didn't seem right to be out with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione while you stayed here alone."
"Ah, you caught me, Mister Potter. I was going to pine away at the loss of your constant and annoying presence in my room."
Harry turned to leave, then paused. "You're doing okay, then?"
"Except for being awakened out of a deep sleep by an imbecile, I am quite fine."
Feeling oddly dejected, Harry left and made his way to his room.
An hour later, Harry found himself unable to sleep. It was the first night he'd spent in his own bed in weeks. It seemed much too big and empty.
After tossing and turning, Harry rose and once more made the trek from his bedroom to Snape's.
"Professor?" Harry said quietly upon entering.
There was a rustle of blankets.
"Oh for..." Harry heard Snape sigh and a candle lit, illuminating the room. "If you insist upon inflicting yourself on me, Mister Potter, then might I suggest that you at least make yourself useful?"
Harry's breath caught in his throat. Did Snape want him to... to....
His thoughts must have shown on his face for Snape snarled at him.
"I meant for you to massage me. My feet are waiting."
Harry retrieved the jar and went to work.
* * *
"Mister Weasley?"
Harry had been looking for a chance to talk to Ron's father for weeks, but it seemed as though they were never alone. This morning, when Mister Weasley had excused himself from breakfast at Grimmauld Place to ready himself for work, Harry had stepped out of the kitchen after him.
"What is it, Harry?"
"Your wife's been pregnant several times and I was just wondering if you could give me any advice as to what I should expect to happen to Snape."
Mister Weasley cocked his head to the side and hmmed for a moment while he thought.
"First of all, since the Professor's a male, things are going to be a bit different. But I would expect that at this point, he may tire easily. I doubt if Professor Snape will admit it though, so may want to watch for that."
Harry nodded his head. He could do that.
"Also, if I recall correctly, Molly became a little cranky at this point."
From the kitchen arose a clatter of pots and pans and the distinctive sound of china shattering. Yelps and screams could be heard with Snape's voice in the background bellowing his displeasure.
Various Weasleys, accompanied by Hermione and Remus raced into the room in an effort to escape. They were not unscathed, for most of them were splattered with eggs and jam. Ron and George were dripping pumpkin juice onto the carpet.
"He'll become cranky?" Harry asked Mister Weasley. "How will I be able to tell?"
* * *
Harry glared at Snape. "I hate you."
"I don't care in the slightest how you feel about me. I never have."
"You're a mean, nasty git who's never had any friends and never will"
"A circumstance that doesn't concern me in the slightest."
"But this time," Harry continued, "you've really done it. If you think for one moment that I'm going to forget how you -"
"Oh!" Snape interrupted. He clutched at the slight roundness of his stomach, a look of surprise on his face. "I believe the baby has just made its presence known."
"The baby kicked?" Harry repeated. He moved forward and placed his hand next to Snape's.
Underneath his palm he felt a slight flutter.
"I felt it! I felt our baby!" Harry said excitedly.
As they stood there together, Harry smiled. He'd suspected that Snape had been feeling the baby kick for several days now. But Snape was too manipulative, too sneaky to ever simply announce it. He'd waited until it was most advantageous to do so. It had been the perfect way for Snape to bring their fight to a halt.
Which was the entire reason why Harry had picked a fight to begin with.
* * *
Ron cornered Harry in the parlor one rainy afternoon.
"Harry," he said nervously. "Not sure how to ask this, but..." Ron's voice trailed off.
"Just say it, Ron."
Ron nodded, then glanced around to see if anyone was listening. "Are you sleeping with Snape?"
"Why does everyone keep asking that?" Harry snapped. "I get that same question from Draco at least once a week. At least you didn't rub my backside when you asked."
Ron wore a puzzled expression on his face for a second before shaking it away.
"That doesn't answer my question. Are you and the greasy git shagging?'
Harry folded his arms across his chest. "That greasy git is the mother, I mean the father.... No that's still not right." Harry thought for a moment, then tried again. "He's bearing my child and I would appreciate it if you would remember that fact and refer to him with a little respect."
Ron's mouth dropped open. It took a couple of tries before words began to emerge. "You are, aren't you? You and Snape are making the beast with two backs."
Harry hadn't meant to ever have sex with Snape again. But Snape liked to have his feet rubbed. Every time Harry rubbed his feet, Snape would moan and writhe and Harry would get turned on to the point where he was practically panting. Then Snape would order him not to dally and to get on with it and... and it didn't mean that he liked Snape or anything.
"Blimey," Ron said, still trying to take in the information. "You and Snape. Never thought of Snape in that way. Makes my stomach churn. But he'd have to be fairly good at it to still have you interested. And to think, I spent all that time pitying you for having to boff him when you were having a right good time of it."
Harry sighed. The entire situation couldn't possibly get worse.
"Saaay," Ron said slowly, "if Snape's so bloody talented, do you think he might be willing to give me and Hermione a spot of advice?"
Or maybe it could.
* * *
"How's the baby going to get out?" Harry asked one night while lying next to Snape.
"The same way as he got in."
"Eww."
"With a spell, you idiot," Snape growled. "When the baby is deemed ready, a spell will be performed that transports the baby outside of my body."
"That's good," Harry said. He yawned, stretched, and then snuggled closer. He only moved when Snape elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
* * *
"I am not naming our child Turnip," Harry stated adamantly.
"The name is Turpin. There are many Turpins in the Prince family tree. You may remember Lisa Turpin. She was from a less notable branch."
"Turnips don't grow on trees." Harry ducked after he spoke, just in case. Snape had never hit him, but there was always a first time. No blow fell, which only encouraged him. "I don't see why we can't name him James."
Snape's face grew red with anger.
"Or Sirius," Harry suggested, mostly to see if he could make steam come out of Snape's ears. The one time he'd mentioned that perhaps not all the weight being gained was baby related he could've sworn he saw little wisps next to Snape's head.
"Why don't we call him Dunderhead, after his father?"
"Is that your middle name?" Harry asked. Darn, still no steam. "In any case, Dunderhead would be better than Turnip."
"The name is Turpin," Snape hissed between clenched teeth.
* * *
Harry tried to open the door, but Snape must have changed the wards. Damn, the bastard worked quickly. Withdrawing his wand, Harry blasted through the barrier and flung open the door.
Snape whirled to face him, his wand held tightly in his hand.
"It wasn't what it looked like," Harry said, trying to be calm.
"Are you telling me that you and Mister Malfoy were not kissing?" Snape's voice was shaking with emotion.
"No. I mean yes, but it wasn't like that. We just came back from a mission where I saved Malfoy from a group of Death Eaters. He was grateful."
Snape gave a bitter laugh. "And his gratitude required his tongue to be down your throat?"
"He was really, really grateful."
Snape moved closer and Harry steeled himself not to take a step back.
"Then perhaps you can explain why Mister Malfoy's legs were wrapped around your waist while he demonstrated his appreciation to you for saving his life.
Harry swallowed hard. "I can't explain because I have no idea what that was about. Malfoy's always been weird. I think it may be due to inbreeding."
Snape stilled and stared at Harry with a peculiar look upon his face. Harry realised that the expression might actually be some sort of a smile.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Harry asked.
"I never imagined that you being a complete and utter fool would be one of your better traits."
For a moment, Harry frowned before dismissing the matter. He'd work out what might be going on in Snape' head later. For now, it was enough that he didn't seem mad at him anymore.
"It's okay," Harry said in an effort to make Snape feel better. "I know it's just your hormones acting up."
A moment later Harry ran out the bedroom door, hexes exploding around him. He decided that might not have been the right thing to say.
* * *
Snape lay on his back and waited for it to be time to spell the baby out of him.
"As I suspected, Molly Weasley and the other women greatly exaggerated the pain of labor."
Harry looked doubtful while Molly glared at Snape.
Two hours later the walls began to melt from the force of Snape's magic hitting them.
"I'll kill you, Potter for ever sticking that measly prick of yours inside me," Snape snarled. "I'll make you wish you'd died with your parents. Voldemort's Cruciatus curse will seem like a feather's tickle by the time I get through with you!"
"Do the spell! Do the spell!" Harry begged Remus and Arthur.
"As for those reprobate associates of yours, I'll turn them into a large pair of boots and give them to Hagrid. For eternity they'll be filled by Hagrid's smelly feet as he deals with the messes made by his loathsome creatures."
Remus and Arthur glanced at each other while Molly smiled smugly.
Remus cleared his throat. "I do believe now would be a good time to do the spell."
Part 3 - The Baby
Harry looked at the baby. She was red in the face and her mouth was scrunched. The few tufts of hair on her head were sticking straight up. Also, he didn't realize that babies ever had noses that size. Her fists were flailing and she was screaming at the top of the lungs.
It was truly the ugliest and most ill-tempered baby he'd ever seen.
Molly Weasley had delivered her, cleaned her up, and then given her to Harry to hold. Now Harry didn't so much hand her to Snape as push her at him.
"Yes, the world is a truly terrible place, isn't it," Snape said calmly to the bundle in his arms. As the baby continued to squall, he added conversationally, "Exactly. I've thought the same thing myself."
The baby's face reddened even more and a noxious odor began to emanate from it.
"An excellent commentary on the situation, my dear," Snape noted.
Harry groaned. Who could've guessed that Snape's personality would breed true?
* * *
"You really need to name her." Hermione, who was sitting on a kitchen chair, bounced the infant on her knee.
The baby screamed in indignation.
"We'll name her as soon as we agree."
"Poor thing will never have a name, then." Ron took the baby from Hermione and tossed her in the air, catching her again in his large hands. In retaliation, the baby spat up at him. However Ron had learned to erect a shield after the first dozen times she'd pulled that stunt.
"Snape still refuses to consider anything but Turnip," Harry stated. He took his daughter from Ron and held her up against his shoulder. She immediately latched onto a lock of his hair with her tiny fists and he winced as she pulled. "I've told him that I'd be happy with Eileen Lily, but he won't budge on the subject."
"He still wants to name her Turpin, despite her not being a boy?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't think that matters anymore. Now it's all about winning the argument. He rubbed the baby's back as she nuzzled against him, her drool wetting his robe. "Although Turnip might suit her."
Hermione rose to her feet and approached Harry. "Harry, if you and Snape can't even agree on a name that doesn't bode well for her future. What kind of family life is she going to have?"
"I don't know. Quite frankly, there are times when I'm tempted to give her to Hagrid. He has a talent for handling wild and dangerous beasts."
Hermione smiled, but scolded him with a mildly reproving "Harry!"
"Look at that," Ron said, pointing at the baby lying on Harry's shoulder. "She's sleeping. You must have the magic touch, Harry."
"She must know her Daddy," Hermione said softly.
"Actually," Harry answered while trying to detangle his hair from his daughter's fingers, "whenever she does something like tug on my hair, it seems to calm and relax her."
"Ahhh," said Ron and Hermione in understanding.
"Hermione," Ron said, turning toward her. "After we get married, I think I'd like to wait for a while before having children."
Hermione looked at the baby in Harry's arms. "Good idea."
* * *
Harry studied the baby closely as she lay sleeping in her crib. A trail of drool was wetting the bed linens.
"You're sure she's not possessed or anything, right?"
Snape sniffed. "My daughter is the most perfect specimen of infanthood. She simply uses the only methods available to her to convey her grievous disgust with the world."
"Really? So that whole projectile vomiting thing is normal?"
As an answer, Snape scowled at him.
"How's she supposed to destroy Voldemort, anyway?" Harry asked.
"Don't you ever pay attention? Every day this child lives, Voldemort weakens. In a year, he won't have the power to cast an Unforgivable. If he's still alive in five, he'll barely be able to perform a Lumos."
"Oh," said Harry.
Lately he'd been thinking that Voldemort would be destroyed from one night of babysitting.
And Harry had been looking forward to a night out.
* * *
"How dare you!" Snape screamed at him.
Harry ducked a hex. When it came to protecting offspring, Snape could probably give a mother grizzly a run for her money.
"I can't believe you insulted your own child like that, Potter!"
Another curse was hurled his way causing Harry to create a shield for protection.
"All right, all right," Harry yelled in defeat. "I'm sorry. She just seems so darn loyal to you that almost no one else can hold her. I'm sorry I ever suggested that she might become a Hufflepuff."
* * *
His heart pounding in his chest, Harry crawled to where Snape had collapsed on the floor of the nursery. With relief, he saw that Snape was still breathing, despite all the blood that covered him. He didn't know when he'd started caring for the git. Having sex with Snape every night had obviously affected his brain.
Next to Snape's body was his wand which Harry snatched up. His own wand had been shattered in the barrage of spells that had taken down Snape.
Somehow Voldemort had found 12 Grimmauld Place and his Death Eaters had swarmed over the residence. In the background, Harry could hear screams and shouts as curses were fired. His friends had come to their aid and were keeping Voldemort's minions busy.
Too bad there was still Voldemort to deal with.
"Crucio!"
Harry screamed as Voldemort's curse hit him. He writhed as Voldemort walked past him to grab one-handedly the baby from its crib.
"You thought you could defeat me, Potter?" Voldemort sneered at him. The Dark Lord looked at the baby he held. "You thought this child would destroy me?"
Harry watched as Voldemort lifted the baby up as he spoke until her face was level with his. Even through his pain, Harry knew what Voldemort was doing wasn't a good idea.
The baby spat up hitting Voldemort between his shiny red eyes.
Reeling back in surprise and disgust, Voldemort lost control of the Cruciatus curse. Harry took advantage of the moment and aimed Snape's wand.
"Avada Kedavra!" Harry yelled.
Voldemort stiffened and fell to the floor.
Staggering to his feet, Harry made his way to where his daughter was sprawled across a now very dead Dark Lord. Picking her up, he held her close to his chest.
"You'd think he'd learn to stop trying to kill Potter babies, wouldn't you?" he crooned softly to her.
She started to yowl. Although Harry knew it was for her bottle, he let himself believe that it was a cry of triumph.
He had the best daughter in the world.
* * *
"You're actually calling her Turnip?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded. "Turnip Snape," he confirmed. "We figured we'd better compromise on a name damn quick because anything is better than The Girl Who Spewed, which is what the newspapers are calling her." He gave Hermione a dirty look. "And don't think I don't know who suggested that last word in order to publicise their elfish welfare society."
Hermione contrived to look innocent.
Ron didn't appear to notice their exchange. "Who would have thought having a tetchy stomach would be considered heroic?"
Hermione smiled at him then turned to Harry. "Speaking of heroics, did you know Ron is quite a hero, too? He saved Remus and Draco's life during the battle."
Ron turned almost as red as his hair. "I didn't do much."
Hermione shook her head. "That's not what Remus and Draco think. Draco makes a point of stopping by and thanking Ron every day."
"That he does." Ron frowned slightly. "I just wish he'd stop rubbing my arse whenever he thanks me."
"He can't help it," Harry said. "It's the inbreeding."
"Right. The inbreeding," Ron repeated, nodding but not quite believing it.
* * *
Harry was standing next to Turnip's crib, gazing down at her, when Snape joined him.
"Do stop acting maudlin."
"I'm not," Harry protested. As Snape stared at him, Harry purposely averted his eyes. "And don't use legilimency on me."
"I don't need to. Your thoughts are woefully transparent. You, myself, and our child have had our existences defined by the presence of Voldemort. You are obviously wondering what the future holds for us now that he is a thing of the past."
Harry had actually been wondering whether or not to use a sleeping potion on the baby because he was getting tired of getting up several times a night to feed her.
"Wow," he said to Snape. "That's exactly what I was thinking."
"It is unnecessary for you to ponder your future, Potter. You will never be at loose ends for now that we are a family you will always have a purpose in life."
Harry nodded solemnly. "Being a good father to our daughter."
Snape hesitated for a moment. "That, too, but I was referring to your massaging ability. Come to bed, Potter. My feet await."
Well, thought Harry, it was better than being completely useless. Maybe.
The End