dueltastic

Title: Circumstances of a Small and Accidental Nature (Chapter 5 of 8)
Author: dueltastic
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Minerva McGonagall/Severus Snape, cast of thousands




Chapter 5: Severus Snape and the Father of the Year Award

Three, thought Snape, would be a more promising age, due to the boy's development of rudimentary comprehension of simple instructions. "Your mother may encourage rowdiness indoors, but I do not," he'd told Sev. "No running. No noise around people who are working." He'd had to tell the boy several times - annoying, but hardly its fault, given that children that age probably had the attention span of a skrewt - but he had complied each time, and received an approving nod.

The effort began to pay off. Snape was on the sofa in the sitting room, using the weekend to catch up on his Defense books, when the boy ran in carrying a ball that, by the looks of it, had been charmed to be almost as big as he was. It was, thought Snape, exactly the sort of ridiculously indulgent thing that Flitwick would do. When Sev saw Snape reading, he stopped running and put the ball away in his room.

And when Sev emerged again, he was carrying a picture book. He climbed up onto the sofa next to Snape - though clumsily executed, a fairly acrobatic feat for something with legs that short, Snape always thought - and opened his book to read. Snape glanced over at the boy a few times, with the tiniest upward quirk of his mouth. The boy finished his page and looked up, catching Snape's glance, and gave him a smile. Snape snorted with quiet laughter, and looked at the boy's choice of book. Hogwarts Trains, An Illustrated History. Of course. Silly boy.


Of course, there were the challenges that no amount of well-meaning parenting advice had prepared them for.

"Be the kitty, Mummy!" said Sev eagerly, standing next to her desk. "Be the kitty!"

Minerva rubbed her forehead slowly. "Not now, dear," she said. "I'm working."

"Later?" said Sev hopefully.

"No, dear," said Minerva.

"Please?" said Sev. "I want to play with the kitty."

"No, dear," said Minerva, trying to re-read the latest letter from the Ministry's Department of Education.

"Please?" said Sev.

Snape glanced up. "Sev, come away. Your mother is working. You know better than to interrupt her."

Sev wandered over to Snape by the fire. "But I want the kitty," he said.

"Your mother is not a toy," said Snape. Sev sat on the rug and traced its patterns with his index finger.

"They truly don't warn you about things like this when you begin animagus training," muttered Minerva.



The strange smell in her office was the first clue. That she'd left Snape alone to watch the child all afternoon should have been the second. But Minerva was still somewhat surprised to see her son kneeling on her desk over a small cauldron, stirring rod in hand, while Snape loomed next to him.

"What on earth are you doing?" she said, bracing herself for Severus's predictable, 'Brewing, obviously'.

"Mummy!" said Sev, looking up. His hair was damp and plastered to his forehead from leaning over the cauldron.

"Wait," said Snape, his hand rapidly going to the boy's shoulder. "What do you do first?"

"Ehm... safe... safe flame," said Sev, looking back at the cauldron.

"Very good," said Snape. "Your flame is safe. Now what?"

"Potion," said Sev promptly. "Potion is, er, stable."

"Yes, your potion is stable," said Snape, with a look that passed for pleased when it was on his face. Minerva bit back a smile. "Now what?"

"Give some to Mummy!" said Sev, craning his neck up to look at Snape and bouncing a little, as children his age were wont to do.

Snape rolled his eyes. "You may give some to your mother." He conjured three goblets and a ladle, and put them on the desk next to the boy, who fumbled with the ladle to fill a goblet under Snape's watch. Snape took it from him, and Sev returned to filling the other two. "Minerva," said Snape, turning to her and holding out the goblet, "you will try what he has been brewing. And you will like it." His tone brooked no alternative.

Minerva raised an eyebrow and took the goblet. "I so enjoy your intimidating side, Severus," she said, moving to his side. "What exactly is this that I'm to be testing?"

"Punkin soup!" said Sev, handing another goblet to Snape with both hands. "It's punkin soup, Mummy!"

Both Minerva's eyebrows shot up this time. "Pumpkin soup? You spent the afternoon teaching Sev how to cook?" she said quietly to Snape before taking a small sip of soup.

"I spent the afternoon reviewing good brewing practices with him," said Snape with a scowl. "He needs to learn chopping, measuring, and temperature control."

Sev held the last goblet in his hands, and was blowing into it loudly to cool the contents. He took a sip. "Good," he said, and took another sip.

"Yes, it's very good, Sev," said Minerva, encouragingly. "It's quite delicious." Sev smiled at her, looking pleased with himself.

Snape nodded at her curtly, as though he were personally responsible for keeping her in line when it came to praising their son's efforts. "Good work, Severus. You may get down now. I'll watch your cauldron," he said. He held out an arm to help the child off the desk.



"Severus," said Minerva, poking her head into the bathroom, "have you seen my glasses?"

Snape paused under the shower, letting the soap wash away under the cascade of water from the mouth of the carved stone sea serpent that rose up from the floor. "Try your desk," he said.

"I was reading with them last night," she said. "I must have put them on the table beside the bed."

"I won't repeat myself," said Snape, returning to scrubbing off the lather himself.

"Hmph," said McGonagall, quite primly indeed. "Then I shan't make an indecent remark about the quality of the view from here. Without my glasses, I can hardly be expected to appreciate it properly." Snape snorted.

After checking her bedroom again, Minerva went into the Head's office to follow Severus's lead, when the location of her glasses, and how they had disappeared from her bedside, became very clear. They were not so much on her desk, as hovering a few inches above it, on the face of a small black-haired boy in pyjamas, who was kneeling in her chair to see over the desk and scribbling on parchment with a frown of concentration on his face.

Sev stopped and inspected the parchment closely, squinting through the unfamiliar square glasses, then nodded. "Signed, Headmister McGonagall," he said firmly, scribbling a strange figure at the bottom of the roll. "Next." He took up another roll of parchment, and started scribbling.

"You found them, then," said Snape from behind her, doing up the belt on a black dressing gown.

"Just tell me those aren't actually the budget requisitions he's got," said Minerva.

"Not anymore," said Snape. "I gave him a stack of blank rolls. But I was too late to save the first three."

Minerva sighed. "It could be worse, I suppose. Though how I'll explain this to the three teachers who need to redo their requisition forms..." she said.

Just then the clock struck seven, and with a quiet pop, an elf left behind a tray with a soft-boiled egg, toast soldiers, and a cup of cocoa. Sev looked up curiously, square glasses still resting on his nose and quill in hand.

"He looks like you," said Snape to Minerva, as though this was something of a revelation.

"Well, I should think so," she said. "I'm his mother. He takes after you rather a good deal, too." She went to Sev. "Time for breakfast, dear," she said briskly. "Quickly now, we have to get you fed and dressed before your father and I go to the Great Hall. And I'll need my glasses back." McGonagall held out her hand. Sev fumbled off the glasses and gave them to her before running over to his breakfast tray and inspecting it with interest.

Snape cut the top off his egg efficiently, and Sev carefully dipped a toast soldier in while Snape stood over him.

McGonagall sat down in a chair beside them. "Is it good, Sev?" she said. Sev nodded, mouth full off egg and toast.

Snape stood over the boy until he'd finished eating and was draining his cup of cocoa. "I'm going to finish dressing," said Severus.

Minerva helped Sev wipe his mouth with a napkin, adding a little surreptitious cleaning charm to help things along. "Go ahead, Severus, I'll get the boy dressed. Hagrid will be here shortly," she said.

Snape disappeared, and McGonagall got the boy into his clothes just as Hagrid showed up at the door.

"'M I interrupting?" said Hagrid, poking his head around to look into the office.

"Not in the least," said McGonagall, while Sev waved at Hagrid, who tried, with his giant hands, to make a little wave back. "He's all ready, and one of us will be back in an hour." Snape swept out of the private rooms and waited at the door stonily. McGonagall's lips pursed. "Me, from the looks of things." Snape scowled.

On the way to the Great Hall, she said, "All right, Severus, what's behind this sudden burst of temper?"

"None of your business," said Snape.


That evening, while getting ready for bed, she stopped and turned to him. "This is ridiculous, Severus. What on earth has been the matter today?" said Minerva.

"This was a mistake," said Severus, standing by the window, looking out into the darkness.

Minerva stared at him with an icy silence. "And what, pray, brought this to your attention at ten past seven this morning?" she said finally.

"He's our son," said Snape nastily.

"Yes, I'd say that was patently obvious," said Minerva.

"And he's going to grow up," said Snape.

"Again, not exactly the sort of revelation I'd expect to lead to this ridiculous behaviour," said Minerva.

Snape glared at her. "He's not a nice little Gryffindor, like Potter or Longbottom, whatever that display this morning might indicate. He's mine. He'll want all the dark knowledge he can get his hands on," said Snape. "He won't know what hit him when the next dark wizard is looking for a prize to recruit. I know, Minerva, because he's my son. And I'll have to live for the rest of my life knowing what I've done to Minerva McGonagall's beloved only child, just by having fathered him. This was all a great mistake."

Minerva stared at him in disbelief for a moment before speaking. "Oh, goodness, Severus, the boy is three," she said. "I doubt he'll be recruited into the legions of darkness any time soon."

"But he will be," said Snape. "One day. Have you considered what you're going to do when it's your child?"

"As it happens, I have no small opinion of my ability to influence my own child," said Minerva.

Snape glared. "I did not stop one dark wizard just to have to go through it again with my own son," he said.

"And I should appreciate it," Minerva continued after a pause, "if you'd stop wallowing in self-pity and be useful. I dare say we'll have plenty of warning if he shows signs of joining up with the followers of the next dark lord. There's no need to race Sybill to see who can foresee the sky falling first."

"I couldn't bear it, Minerva," said Snape quietly.

Minerva took his hand in hers. "I know," she said. "Come to bed, Severus."



By the time he was four, Sev had developed new ways to test Snape's parenting prowess.

A small hand tugged on Snape's sleeve. Severus ignored the other teachers sitting around the table and looked down.

"Can we go now?" said Sev.

"No, I'm having a meeting," said Snape. "Go sit by the fire."

"But I want to go," said Sev, fiddling with the shoulder strap on his dungarees.

"Not now. You have a book. Read it," said Snape.

Sev scowled, and stomped dramatically back to the chair by the fire. "You're insufferable!" he moaned. At the staff table, Flitwick coughed to prevent a laugh, and exchanged a glance with Pomona, who was covering her mouth.

Sev climbed up into the armchair and opened his book. "You're insufferable, Daddy," he called.

"I heard you the first time." said Snape, reviewing the meeting agenda. "Read silently, please."

"No doubt he's Snape's, then," whispered Vector to Sinistra, who whispered back, "None at all!" They assumed innocent expressions when Snape looked up at them.

Sev kicked the chair restlessly and muttered to himself, then let the book drop as he squirmed half-way out of the chair. "You're insufferable. You're an insufferable Gryffindor, Daddy," he said.

Snape's chair scraped the floor as he pushed it back and stared at Sev, who righted himself in the armchair and stared back.

"We can go now?" said Sev hopefully.

Horace Slughorn looked around at his colleagues, half of them too incapacitated with laughter to act, and sighed. "Come on, little fellow, hop up here," he said, patting his thighs. He helped Sev climb up into his lap and settle in. "There's a good chap. Now, I dare say you have a touch of the insufferable Gryffindor in you, too, to say something like that to your father, hmm?" Sev smiled back at Horace's warm and friendly face.

"What have you been teaching the boy, Severus?" said Flitwick with deceptive mildness, as Pomona collapsed in laughter again beside him.

"Nothing!" said Snape, annoyed.

"Bit like sponges at this age," said Slughorn. "Heaven knows what they'll repeat. Now, where's that house elf?" He looked around, and an elf appeared next to him. "Ah, there you are. We'll need a mug of milky tea for the boy, and a plate of biscuits." Snape gave him a disapproving look. "Er, digestive biscuits," he amended. Snape hesitated, then nodded. Slughorn whispered, "Chocolate ones," to the elf, who nodded and disappeared. "Now, Severus," he said, bouncing the boy on his lap, "you sit with your Uncle Horace and have a little restorative while we finish up here, and you'll be on your way in no time. Nothing like a little tea to boost one's patience."

Snape scowled and returned to the meeting agenda.


When Minerva returned to the school, she found Severus, still scowling, in her office. Sitting and marking, too, of course, but the activity occupying most of his skills was scowling.

"He's having his nap?" she said, shaking the rain off her cloak.

"Yes," said Severus, managing to eke out an extra bit of scowl.

Minerva looked him over closely. "All right, then, Severus, out with it."

He glared at her. "I've been forbidden from calling you an 'insufferable Gryffindor'."

"Oh dear, that will put a crimp in your lifestyle," she said, with feigned sympathy. "Whatever could induce you to go to such lengths?"

"The boy," said Severus sourly. "He's taken to calling me that when he's impatient. In front of the staff. They all think it's my fault."

"I can't imagine how they got that idea," said Minerva, taking a seat behind her desk. "How terrible for you. You might have to resort to an actual term of endearment."

"Yes, that seems highly likely," muttered Severus over his unmarked essays.

Minerva summoned the school financial ledgers, and opened them to the start of the year. "Still," she said. "There is one place your son doesn't listen to what you say."

He looked up sharply. "Hrm," he said, and returned to marking.

Later that evening, he took her suggestion. Their limbs were tangled, their pale skin damp and flushed, and Severus leaned down to whisper in her ear, "You are an insufferable Gryffindor, you know."

"Naturally," said Minerva, looking amused as she ran her fingers through his hair. "And yet, here you are, giving little if any indication of suffering."

Severus snorted. "I have a stronger constitution than most," he said.

"That's good to know," said Minerva, stroking his shoulders. "Once more, then?"

"I take it back. You're an insatiable Gryffindor," said Severus. He dipped his head and bit gently at her collarbone.

"Nonsense," she said. "I can be sated in a perfectly straightforward manner, provided one has a modicum of finesse."

"Hmph," said Snape, preparing to demonstrate that there was nothing wrong with his finesse, thank you very much.



The autumn marked the beginning of a new school year.

"Mr. Filch," called McGonagall, picking up her skirts to walk more briskly down the corridor. The boy trotted beside her, holding her other hand.

Filch lowered his mop. "Aye," he said cautiously. He nodded at the lad, allowing as how McGonagall was headmistress now and a little politeness to her son couldn't go amiss, and, in any case, young Severus could hardly help any of the irregularities of his upbringing.

"Hello, Mr. Filch," said Sev politely.

"Mr. Filch," said McGonagall, "it's my understanding that the statue of Boris the Bewildered needs some attention?"

Filch grunted. "Little blighters broke it, they can mend it," he said.

"Even were that the case," said McGonagall, "I believe you'll find that students are not responsible for damage done by our resident poltergeist."

"Claiming it were Peeves to get out of trouble, are they," said Filch, leaning on his mop. "Head of the school ought t'see through that one."

"Not only are they claiming it, Argus," said McGonagall, "but the portraits on the fifth floor confirm it, and Peeves has been singing a rather silly bit of doggerel about how Boris is finally able to find his arse with both hands in his new configuration, which, while apparently true, strikes me as quite a pointless achievement for a piece of statuary. I would appreciate you putting it right as rapidly as possible."

Filch gathered up his bucket with a grumble and a bit of clatter. When he looked around for Mrs. Norris, he found the boy bending over her, inspecting her closely. "Are y'done with Mrs. Norris, then?" he said gruffly. Sev straightened up and nodded, returning to his mother's side. Filch gathered up his cat in his other arm.

"Mummy," whispered Sev loudly, tugging at McGonagall's sleeve.

"Yes, Sev?" said Minerva.

"Is Mrs. Norris stuck as a cat?" he said, wrinkling his brow.

McGonagall looked at him in confusion for a moment before sorting out what he meant. "No, dear, Mrs. Norris is actually a cat."

"Oh," said Sev, brightening. "Good, cuz... cuz I'd think it'd make Mr. Norris unhappy." Filch set his jaw, and set off for the fifth floor before he could overhear more, muttering to himself about daft ideas and bloody animagi ruining things for decent folk.

"No doubt it would," said Minerva. She stroked Sev's hair fondly, and took his hand again. "Come along."

"Daddy would be unhappy if you were stuck as a cat," said Sev with certainty.

"Would he now?" said McGonagall, and Sev nodded. "I dare say he would be. But you needn't worry, Severus, I won't get stuck as a cat."

"Good," said Sev, looking satisfied.

Back on her office, Minerva hurried him off towards the head's suite. "Now get your things together, dear. It's Thursday, so it's your turn for dinner with..?"

"Uncle Augustus," said Sev. "And tomorrow Daddy."

"That's right," said Minerva approvingly. "Now hurry, and we'll Floo Uncle Augustus.

Sev skipped off chanting, "Monday Mummy, Tuesday Cousin Hadrian, Wednesday Hagrid, Thursday Uncle Augustus, Friday Daddy. Monday Mummy, Tuesday..."

"At least he knows the days of the week," said Snape waspishly, hidden in an armchair by the fire.

"Mm," said Minerva. "I'm just afraid he may need to re-learn them if the Board insists on meeting Monday evening. I suppose we could find another child-minder, but I would like to have supper with my own son more than twice a week during term-time."

"No doubt all of the board members do," said Snape, with a hint of a sneer.

"No doubt," said Minerva, pursing her lips slightly. "Nothing for it, I suppose. Perhaps we could move around the family a bit. Augustus is willing, though Hadrian has his own family making demands on his time."

"Your brother has an appalling sense of humor," said Snape, "naming his son Hadrian."

"I'll have you know that wall kept you southern barbarians safely contained for some time," said Minerva, sitting down across from him with a smile twisting around her lips. "It's only natural that my brother would want to commemorate the achievement."

Snape put down his book and looked at her. "And you also have an appalling sense of humor," he said, and returned to his book.

"Do you know, I think that's why he took to you," she said. "Augustus told me that from time to time, starting back with the Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum, it's been misidentified as Severus's Wall."

Snape snorted as Sev ran back into the room. "Ready!" said Sev.

"All right, dear," said Minerva, getting up and taking a handful of Floo powder as Sev stood there with an air of anticipation.

Snape coughed pointedly. Sev turned. "Goodbye, Daddy!" he said, reaching up to hug Snape. Snape patted his back awkwardly.

"Go on," said Snape, gesturing towards the fireplace. "Behave."

"Or he'll turn me to potions ingredients!" said Sev, looking wicked.

"I shouldn't wonder," said Snape, nodding at him. Minerva gave him a disapproving look over her glasses, and bent down to kiss Sev on the cheek.

"Go on through, dear," she said. As the boy bounded through the fireplace, she turned to Snape. "Honestly, Severus. You're one to talk about appalling senses of humor." She tidied up and put on her teaching robes.

Severus lay aside his book and rose from his chair. "May I escort you to the Great Hall for dinner, Professor McGonagall?" he said with a small formal bow.

"You may, Professor Snape," said Minerva, taking his arm.



In the spring came her son's birthday, and a conversation Minerva had been wondering if she could put off, until she decided there was nothing for it but taking the bull by the horns.

"You know, the boy is five now," said McGonagall, closing her book.

"I had noticed, yes," said Snape, browsing the evening paper. "He announced it several times a day for weeks, before and after his birthday."

"I suppose I simply mean that he's rather less of a handful," she said. "I'm quite content with things as they are, you know, but... Well. When we decided to go ahead with this, we did only discuss the situation while the boy was small. If you wished to change the arrangement..."

Snape dropped the paper into his lap. "You want to know if I'm leaving you. And the boy."

"I admit that I wondered if you wanted to, yes," said McGonagall, fingering the book nervously.

"It might have escaped your notice, Minerva," said Snape, "but I have spent the past five years making your tea, raising your child, accompanying you to dozens of interminable social events, learning how to sexually satisfy you in any one of your dozens of inexplicable moods, and falsifying your schedule to give you more time with your son, or, indeed, to give you more time with me. And I have done each of those things willingly, while giving every indication, nearly, of enjoying them. As have you."

McGonagall smiled. "I'm not certain whether you're telling me that you think I'm an idiot, or that you love me."

"They don't appear to be mutually exclusive," said Snape, picking the paper back up.

"So you'll be staying, then," she said briskly.

"Yes," said Snape. "Are we done with this conversation, or shall I despair of ever keeping abreast of current events?"

That seemed to be an end to it, although Minerva suspected it was not a coincidence when Severus spent the better part of the next two weeks taking her to bed with the competitive air of someone who was demonstrating his skills, and watching her like an unusually bad-tempered hawk around other men.


On to Chapter 6.