"Wetting the Baby's Head" for "Nancy Nightshade" Title: Wetting the Baby's Head Author/Artist: Floria Sneezewort (asphodeline) Recipient: Nancy Nightshade (inamac) Character(s)/Pairing(s): Severus/Lucius Rating: G Word count: 2,008 Warnings: None Summary: A short prelude between hostilities? Author's notes: Disclaimer - JK Rowling would be horrified, it's definitely not hers
“You spawned. Congratulations.” Severus peered, feigning disinterest, at the squirming infant offered up to him.
“Boy? Girl? Other?”
“He is my son and heir, Severus. A junior Malfoy who will doubtless rise to glory as has his forebears.”
Severus raised his right eyebrow, a trick he was found of. “Hmph, gilding the lily as ever but nonetheless, well done, your sperm did their duty. No doubt the Narcissistic one played a part too”
Lucius ignored the quip, concentrating on the bundle in his arms. He was gazing at the creature in lace with the most loving, gentle, enraptured expression Severus ever remembered seeing on his naturally stern face. He recognised that look though, oh yes, a look he once kept for him, for special moments when nothing else mattered, nothing else existed but the bond between them. It was a watered down gaze now. Since the bitch arrived, the well-named Narcissa, who paraded her husband around like a prize Chihuahua. At least she didn't insist on a pink bow on his head although he had his doubts about the leash.
Narcissa had diluted the gaze and glory and Severus was demoted to second place. In public, dear boy, only in public. Out of sight, we are the same as ever, each other's, always.
The out of sight part hurt the most, it burned like the snake on his arm. Out. Of. Sight. It wouldn't do to let the beautiful blond creation be seen in raw daylight with the dark, greasy poor kid and it didn't matter how many times Lucius assured him, begged him, to believe that wealth meant nothing because it obviously did. Money might mean nothing to a Malfoy, he had surely never experienced non-wealth, lack of funds, saving up for basic items. Poverty. A small voice in Severus' head reminded him they were no longer kids but fully-fledged adults licensed to wield a wand but he couldn't drop the baggage of his earlier years. Being a kid hadn't been easy but becoming an adult was even harder it seemed.
Severus shifted slightly, aware he had stared, quietly, for too long. He was letting his emotions take hold. Over a baby. Such a pathetic, wrinkled thing that was threatening his last hold on whatever it was that bound him to Lucius Malfoy.
“He does seem to have that effect Severus, quite the conversation stopper.” Lucius leaned closer and lowered his voice. I had thought to name him for you but of course, it wouldn't, you know how it, well ….”
Lucius left unsaid the out of sight, out of mind association. There was no need to continue, the point was made whatever that might have been.
“You lie so effortlessly. He'll have enough to be worried about without a name like mine, Lucius.” He stressed the Lucius, looking directly into the eyes that of recent lit only dimly at his gaze. “No doubt he will bear a regal name as befits a Malfoy. Have you considered a nod towards our leader? That would earn you a concession or three surely.”
Bored, Severus turned abruptly on his heel intending to make his way out but an outstretched hand stopped him. What could only be described as a hideous screech came from the bundle of lace, at the sudden movement and Severus had his wand in hand before Lucius had a chance to drop the creature. They were both saved by the speedy appearance of a most efficient nurse. The wailing lace was removed from its father to the safety of a heaving bosom and Severus strode towards the door followed closely by Lucius.
Some days later, Severus was back at Malfoy manor in the company of the great and the good of the wizarding world with a garnish of the not-so-salubrious to celebrate the naming of the new arrival.
“Pettigrew, how nice to see you.” Severus could turn the word nice into a velveteen insult but Pettigrew appeared oblivious.
“Yes, yes, a pleasure to be here. As it always is. Lovely.”
“Indeed.” Severus turned to move on but an arm caught his sleeve. “Tell me, Snape, what, er … what news do you have?”
Severus looked blankly down at Pettigrew, brushing his sleeve down in an exaggerated motion. “News? Do I look like a mobile edition of the Prophet?”
“News, you know. News of things that are going on. Special things. Secrets.” He tapped the side of his nose in a poor attempt to appear covert.
“Secrets remain secrets Pettigrew. I have no news. And you should not require news. Do you not take note at meetings? Is that too much trouble?”
Severus managed to escape this time and helped himself to whatever foul mixture was in the first silver punch bowl offered his way. It looked like pond water but this was the Malfoy residence, it was certain to be expensive pond water. To his untrained palate the drink tasted little better than pond water too but it might help to dull his senses enough to survive an hour or two in this company.
Narcissa was holding court, making her way through the throng of guests and parading in a most revealing gown that Severus suspected incorporated a crafty glamour spell. Was it possible she was even skinnier now post child than she had been before? Perhaps Lucius preferred the skeletal type in his women; Severus subconsciously pulled his stomach muscles in.
“Are you having fun?“ Lucius appeared at Severus' shoulder. “No, that would be most unlike you, of course. Follow me.”
Lucius turned in a grand swish of robes and headed for a dark corner which revealed an equally dark exit from the room. Severus waited a few moments before following and in his turn a third shape made its way in the same direction.
****
Severus and Lucius walked in silence, taking in the heady summer air laden with the scents of Narcissa's rose walk and herbaceous borders.
Just out of sight of the house party, they turned towards a private corner by an ornamental pond where a fountain – a miniature replica of that in the Ministry of Magic's atrium – gently sprayed its contents in a sing-song flow of water.
“So, have you thought any more on my proposal?" Lucius leaned a little towards Severus and the two men brushed against each other as they approached the fountain.
“The proposal where I become your pet monkey and live out the rest of my days in a dungeon laboratory? Or the one where you set me up as a back street alchemist? I find it hard to keep up, Lucius, you offer so much.”
“I shall choose to ignore the sarcastic undertones, Severus, and remind you of the most generous offer to work for the cause and prove yourself as the most talented potions worker of our generation.” His voice was hushed and further disguised from hidden ears by the bubbling water beside them.
“You flatter me, friend, but I am used to your unsubtle methods of persuasion. I took the offer to mean I should be confined to a secret basement sweating over the heat of a bench load of boiling cauldrons ”
“Which you undoubtedly would enjoy and would be well paid to do.”
“In gold?” Severus paused to look directly at his companion “Or in kind? I seem to remember a drunken suggestion that my board and lodging be paid in something other than traditional monies.”
Lucius sat down and patted the stone bench beside him where Severus proceeded to perch a little reluctantly and at a short distance.
“I would never suggest payment in “services” and I certainly consider you a whore, Severus. No, just something a little more congenial to us both, a mutual arrangement. Keeping the wolf from the door. Of course, now we have our son that might be a little awkward.”
“Oh?” Severus raised a quizzical eyebrow in Lucius' direction. “Which takes us neatly back to the dungeon and a bed in the office so to speak.”
“A suite.”
“In the dungeon.”
“Basement. Lower levels.”
“So you say. I find I'm a little thirsty, I think I shall take myself back indoors.“
Lucius put a hand out to persuade Severus to stay seated. “No need, let me order us some refreshment. More punch perhaps? Or something stronger? ”
Severus knew he would never truly become used to household servants. School staff were one thing but this was sheer wealthy decadence. A couple of house elves appeared at Lucius' command and more pond water promptly arrived.
“Let's face it, Severus, you need me. What's your alternative other than a bench at the back of some back alley apothecary's or a junior post teaching brats the difference between deadly nightshade and crushed beetle livers?”
“You never did do well with the potions, did you? You'd hardly consider crushed beetle liver for a bas....”
“Oh shut up and drink up, Severus, I need to get drunk tonight and this is getting us nowhere.”
With a couple of diligent team of House Elves in attendance, the glasses were rarely empty and the conversation progressed little in content but greatly in detail and a small, dark shadow slunk away.
“Can I have a four-poster bench, Looschius? One like your ….bed but …. no lace. Definitely NO LACE.”
“No laysh. Fuffy pillows? Gooze down quilt?”
“Goosh don quilt. And caulderonns. Lotsch of caulderns”
“For the Dark Lords potions of mash deshtruction and gulory of wizardish purebloods.” Lucius was more accustomed to holding his drink but both men were well into their cups before long.
“To pochyons offf mass destructyions.” Severus brought himself unsteadily to his feet and lurched forward, glass raised high. “And a toast. Toooo.“ He frowned in Lucius direction, trying to recall the purpose of his visit. “To. Thhhe. baby.”
Lucius stood and raised his own glass, not a lot steadier than his lurching friend. “To Draco. Malfoy. Son...”
“and hair.“ Severus giggled. “Dreeco malf.... “ a sudden unbalanced movement sent him reeling forwards and into the cold water of the pond. “….foy.” he pronounced proudly, grabbing unsuccessfully at a clump of plant with one hand while trying to wave his raised glass encouraging Lucius to join him.
Both men were laughing hysterically, the shock of the cold water and the grip of the Malfoy punch bringing them together in a heap beside the bronze fountain. They were nose to nose and Severus planted a noisy and misdirected kiss on Lucius' upper lip. Lucius tried to reciprocate but fell forwards into Severus lap resulting in another round of convulsive giggles.
“ Of course Sevrus, you could alwaysh go back school.”
“Hogwash.”
“HogWARTSH Sevrus. Professor Shnape. Spy on Dumbledior.”
Which final ridiculous suggestion sent Severus further into paroxysms of laughter. “Fifty pints to Slythrin.”
“Lucius? Luuucius?” Coming closer, a familiar voice was calling.
“Lucius? Lucius! What do you think you are you doing? What about our guests? Our party? Our son?!”
Narcissa had left the party to find her absent husband and arrived at the pond to find the pair of young men kneeling in the pond, arms around each other, giggling hysterically.
“What is the meaning of this? Lucius? Snape?”
“Hail, Narshisha!” Severus was unusually the braver of the two and still compos mentis enough to understand that a response of some sort was required. “Narshisha. We...”, he gestured grandly to Lucius, “are having a little shelebration. Wedding the head, betting the wed of “ he paused for effect “the baby. Drake. o.”
A blinding white flash ended Severus Snape's evening while his drunken companion was “refreshed” and marched back to his hostly duty.
Some time later, Severus opened his eyes, frowning heavily at the pain between his brows, to find he was trapped amongst a tangle of spiky roses branches, exquisitely pinned by thorns and an overpowering scent of rosa mundi. Beside him, a covered flagon was labelled
Good morning, Rosie, rise and shine, L
Severus shut his eyes quickly and groaned. This could be a new nightmare just beginning.