Snupin Remix: Story Gift the second for Tetsubinatu
Mod note: A snafu has led to what I hope you all will consider a good thing - an extra story! Normally, it would be gifted to the community, but because this is a Remix, there's no hiding who was remixed. I hope everyone will understand. I believe that both remixes are different enough to stand alone without comparison. Our final gift will be posted tomorrow.
Title: The Muggle Solution Author: Lil' Remix-Up Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Disclaimer: Mpreg. Masturbation. Sirius/OFC. Summary: Severus wants a family. Remus needs some cash. Will they both find what they need in a Muggle medical clinic? Notes: ~9000 words. Original Story: Essential Qualities of a Sperm Donor by Tetsubinatu. As such, it is both firmly AU and not at all DH-compatible.
PROLOGUE
The dark wizard moaned as his lover penetrated him, a loud, almost pained sound that shivered against the silencing charm. Remus gripped himself more firmly and began to pump in earnest, staring upward at the magazine floating above his head.
- so tight and hot - so gorgeous - all his - matelovermatelovermateloverMATE -
He came with a gasp as the men in the photograph reached their simultaneous and very dramatic orgasm. The bottom shuddered as the last drops splattered his flat, lightly furred belly, then cried out as his lover pulled out and slid down to lick him clean. Remus shuddered in sympathy, milking the last drops into the clean plastic jar. He waited until his breathing had returned to normal before snagging this month's copy of Just Us Wizards, shrinking it to the size of a matchbook, and stuffing it into his wallet.
The rest was second nature to him now: pull up his trousers, seal and label the jar with his donor code, place it in the collection window, check out at the front desk. The receptionist smiled up at him through her lipstick and peeled the confirmation sticker from his clinic bracelet.
"There you go, love. Still want your cheque sent - "
"To the post office box, yes." Remus smiled gently. As fond as he'd become of the nurses and staff at the Charing Cross Gamete Donation Centre, he was still a wizard, and that meant keeping his residence a secret from the Muggle world. "I'll be back next week, Mags. Wouldn't miss it for anything."
"We'll be here," said Maggie. She was what his father would have called a home girl, a plain, somewhat plump, perpetually cheerful woman with a husband, two children, and a passion for budgies. Why the husband put up with what seemed to be several dozen budgies was a good question, not that it was really any of Remus' business. "Ta!"
Remus waved and headed for the exit. He was running late for a meeting with Harry about taking a short consulting stint at the MLE before his wound pension started; Harry himself was not particularly punctual, but it was still best to make a good impression.
He'd paused on the sidewalk to check for Muggles before apparating when he spotted the woman.
She was tall, taller than average, with a graceful, almost gliding walk. Her black hair hung in glorious, natural waves to a truly stunning arse, and her long, smooth legs had a hint of muscle that made Remus' mouth water. Her face was partially obscured by oversized sunglasses, but what he could see was just as toothsome as the rest of her: high cheekbones, firm chin and throat, slightly aquiline nose.
The door opened and she disappeared into the clinic, leaving only the faint scent of her cologne. Remus stood gaping before reminding himself that a lone woman who was interested in sperm donation probably wasn't interested in a man, let alone a bisexual werewolf. It still was a moment before he was settled enough to apparate.
"And you'll be raising your child on your own, Ms. Prince?"
"Unfortunately, yes. The only woman I ever loved - " Ms. Prince paused to dab at her eyes with a tissue. "I apologize. It's still somewhat raw."
"I understand," said Ellie Banks, senior reproductive technologies counselor, laying a sympathetic hand on her wrist. Ms. Prince was not the first single lesbian to come seeking a child, and she would not be the last. "I'm so sorry."
Ms. Prince took a deep breath to compose herself. "It was a long time ago. Life does go on." She snapped her purse shut and opened a small black Moleskine. "You mentioned a book of possible donors when we spoke on the fl - phone, I believe."
"Yes, of course." Ellie tapped a few keys on her computer. "Do you have any idea of what qualities you would prefer for your donor? We can't provide photographs, of course, but we do list interests, education, and appearance."
Ms. Prince made a face that was rather close to a smirk. She opened the back pocket on the Moleskine and extracted a folded sheet of stiff, unlined paper. "As a matter of fact, I've made a list of what I'd like in my child's father. Here."
Ellie unfolded the single sheet of paper and began to read. "'Essential Qualities in a Sperm Donor'? You - "
"I've been considering this for quite some time." Ms. Prince cleared her throat, flushing slightly as Ellie ran her finger down the entries. "The first two were written at a time when I was considering finding a male friend who would - contribute, as it were."
"I understand," murmured Ellie. She had seen odder things, but "willing to sleep with me" and "willing to stay out of my life" were new ones. "Intelligent, yes, most of our donors went to university. Free of hereditary disease should not be a problem, as we carefully screen our donors for genetic markers for haemophilia, Tay-Sachs, and similar conditions. We also offer referrals to a testing facility should you decide to have antenatal testing for chromosomal disorders after conception.
"Some of these others, however - " She frowned slightly. "Good looks will partially depend on your appearance, of course - "
"Of course," Ms. Prince murmured back.
" - and a pleasant personality is as much contingent on upbringing as on hereditary. The profiles of prospective donors do include hobbies, talents, and the like." The lights flickered for an instant as someone in the kitchenette next door turned on the microwave. "Are there criteria that you consider more important than others? What the Americans would call a deal-breaker?"
"Intelligence. My family have produced many noted scholars and academics." Ms. Prince straightened in her chair. "If one of your candidates is in the top ten percent, so much the better."
The lights flickered again. By the vaguely salty smell, it was Jilly making herself another cup of pot noodles. Ellie wondered when she was going to get sick of the nasty things and fix herself a proper lunch. "Let me check - ah, yes! LR-59. I interviewed him myself and he's just what you're looking for."
A few clicks of her mouse, and a profile appeared on the screen. "He's a bit on the quiet side, but polite and quite charming. He enjoys music, reading, and art, formerly worked as a teacher, very intelligent and well-educated - "
"Merl - my goodness. He sounds like an excellent match." Ms. Prince twitched her luxuriant hair back over her shoulder and leaned closer. "Brown hair, fresh complexion, hazel-green eyes, slender build - "
"He looks a bit like Ewan MacGregor, the actor," Ellie interjected. "You know, the one who was in Moulin Rouge? He's not Prince William, but then again, who is?"
"Indeed," said Ms. Prince. Her eyes were very bright. "I would like to look at one or two more profiles, just to be sure, but I may have found my man."
NINE MONTHS LATER
"So, Moony - how about those Cannons?" Sirius grinned and clapped Remus on the back. "I told you having Wood as their Keeper would make the difference!"
"They've won two games in a row," said Remus. He couldn't help grinning back. He hadn't seen Sirius in months, and the meeting had been brief and somewhat strained. It was good to see his old friend his old cheerful self again. "It's not the league championship."
"It's better than they've done in our lifetimes!" The door to Grimmauld Place shimmered into existence as they approached. "Ron must be walking on air. He lives and dies with that team."
The door opened to reveal Kreacher, dressed in a freshly laundered tea towel monogrammed with Harry's initials. The elf grimaced at the sight of the Blood Traitor (he had never quite forgiven Sirius for ripping down his mother's portrait and chucking it in a vat of turpentine) and the Wolf, but since Sirius had deeded the whole pile, elf and all, to Harry during the War to reinforce the Fidelius, he gave a suitably low bow.
"Master's guests are welcome to the Noble House of Potter for the celebration of the Master's betrothal to the worthy Miss Ginevra Weasley. Master and his intended bride are within."
"Thank you, Kreacher," said Remus. He shot Sirius a warning glance before his friend could kick the elf the way he'd threatened to after last year's Christmas punchbowl incident. "You must be excited to have a mistress again."
The elf's face stretched in what was likely a smile. "Grimmauld Place needs a woman's touch. Kreacher will be happy to serve Miss Ginevra when she is Madam Potter."
"Great," muttered Sirius, brushing past his former elf. Someone laughed in the library, and someone else complimented Molly on something that sounded like "vegetable dip." "Sounds like we're the last ones here, Moony."
"Then we're fashionably late." The foyer was clean and freshly painted, and thank God the stuffed house elf heads were gone. Clearly Harry was not waiting until his wedding to redecorate. "I don't think Harry will mind."
Harry, resplendent in of Gryffindor crimson and gold, was, as usual, delighted to see them. Within five minutes Remus had been caught up on Auror training (going well), wedding plans (Ginny wanted to elope to someplace in America where a man dressed like a dead singer would perform the ceremony), and general gossip (Fred was dating again after the breakup, Neville had a contract to work at Hogwarts, Albus and Elphias were leading the Gay Wizards' Bowling League, Minerva's granddaughter had qualified as an animagus, etc., etc., etc.). Most of the Order was there, from Hermione to Molly to Severus Snape, swathed in his usual black and smirking in an overstuffed chair.
Remus, drink in hand, soon found himself in the corner near Severus. He had opened his own wholesale apothecary and spice business, according to Minerva, and lived by himself near Ravenglass. The fresh air of the Lake District certainly seemed to agree with him; his face was fuller than Remus remembered, and his hair was glossy and clean. He sipped a glass of what smelled like chilled fruit juice.
"You're looking well," murmured Remus. He leaned a bit closer at a whiff of something earthy fertile rich familiar but unfamiliar. "How have you been? We missed you at the Victory Day fireworks at Hogwarts last month."
"I've been well. Very well." Severus smiled beatifically as Sirius Black glared at him. "You and your little doggie?"
Remus shot Sirius a warning look and made a show of sipping a glass of very superior champagne. "This is the first time I've seen Sirius since May, actually. He's dating a bird he met at a dance club in Soho. She's a half-blood and thinks it's exciting to sleep with an ex-convict, if he's to be believed."
"Really." Severus arched a brow. He squirmed a bit in his chair as if trying to find a more comfortable position. "Black can dance? Who would have thought it?"
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may?" Albus, twinkling more than usual, stepped into the center of the room. His drink matched the rich purple of his robe. "I realize this is supposed to be an engagement party - "
Severus snorted quietly into his juice. Remus took another surreptitious sniff. What was that smell?
" - but I have good news for us all." Albus raised his glass. "First, a toast to Harry and Ginny! May their years together be long and happy!"
"Of course they will!" cried Sirius. He tossed back his whisky and chucked the glass into the fire. "To Harry and Ginny!"
There was a chorus of good wishes and congratulations for the happy couple, who stood beaming by the fireplace. Ginny had matured into a willowy, flame-haired beauty who favored the Prewetts, while Harry looked enough like his father that Remus had remind himself that it was Harry and Ginny, not James and Lily. "Hear, hear," he said softly.
Severus snorted again. "I wonder if he would have looked twice at her if she'd been blonde? Oh, come now. Don't you find it a bit odd that he's marrying someone who looks so much like the mother he never knew? Or is that the custom - "
Albus held up his hand for silence before Remus could respond. "And now, for my news. I assure you, it's good, and no more than the Order deserves."
He waved his hand, and a stack of envelopes appeared and began distributing themselves to the guests. "The Ministry have decided to honor the Order of the Phoenix for its work defeating Lord Voldemort. We're all to receive the Order of Merlin, first class, at a reception and grand ball on Lammas!"
The room fell silent for a moment, then erupted into cheers. Sirius whooped and kissed the nearest female, Harry swept Ginny into a kiss that was almost too enthusiastic, and Remus found himself being pounded on the back by a grinning Arthur Weasley as Luna Lovegood showered the room with floral-scented sparkles and Hermione Granger said "about time!" to anyone who would listen.
The uproar had died down to chatter about dress robes and hairstyles when Severus set his drink aside and raised his voice. "That's very nice, Albus. Unfortunately, I will be unable to attend, so the Ministry will have to send me my award by post."
Albus frowned. "My dear friend, I'm sorry to hear that. Of course you will be sent your medal. There is no one more deserving."
"Thank you." Severus inclined his head with admirable dignity. His hands clutched the arms of his chair. "I greatly appreciate it."
"It is no problem," said Albus. He cocked his head slightly. "If I may ask, could your plans be altered? A Ministry ball - "
"Must bow to biology, I'm afraid." Severus set his feet and heaved himself upright. He shrugged his unseasonable cloak off his shoulders and shook out his thick, wavy hair. "I think Molly would agree, wouldn't she?"
Someone dropped one of Harry's wine glasses with a crystalline smash. Someone else uttered a single obscene word. Every eye in the room was riveted on Severus Snape, who deliberately rubbed his protruding abdomen with the quick, almost delicate motion Remus had seen Lily make a hundred times during the summer of 1980.
Albus had blanched almost as white as his beard. "Severus. You're - you're - "
"That's right, Albus." Was Severus deliberately swaying his back to emphasize the ripe, round curve of his belly? "I'm having a baby. And unless something unexpected happens in the next two months, I'll either be in St. Mungo's giving birth or tending a newborn during the Ministry's little brawl." The one thought Remus had as chaos descended was that at least he now knew what a pregnant man smelled like.
"Well. That was - "
"Go ahead, Lupin. Say it." Severus, now lounging on Walburga Black's Turkish divan with his feet up, looked rather pleased with himself. "I ruined Potter's little party with my news, which makes me officially nasty and mean."
Remus took in what was left of the party: a few wilting red and gold streamers, a barely touched cake congratulating Harry and Ginny, an oily dark stain by the fireplace where Sirius had turned into Padfoot and tried to go for Severus until Albus forced him back into his human form. "That wasn't quite what I would have said. 'Interesting,' perhaps?"
"I'm sure Black is thinking something considerably less polite, if he hasn't already drunk himself into a stupor." Severus watched as a stray rose-scented sparkle floated down from the ceiling. "Albus is, of course, terribly disappointed that I didn't confide in him. He would have insisted that I stop brewing and learn to knit, the old poof."
"Molly does enough of that for the entire Order." Remus glanced upwards at a loud thumping sound from the ceiling, which doubled as the floor to the Blacks' famous Expanding Ballroom. It seemed that the party was not going well despite the change of venue. "I know it's none of my business, but why did you - "
"Do this?" Severus gestured at his abdomen, his face softening despite himself. "How else was I supposed to have a family, Lupin? Lily was the only woman I ever considered marrying, and after she died - "
His face tightened, and Remus hastily handed him a cup of tea. "Here. You look a bit pale."
"Thank you. Bloody female hormones." Severus drank most of the cup in one long pull, then carefully deposited the cup and saucer on his stomach. "My former entanglements preclude me adopting a Wizarding child. And without money or a title, a marriage of convenience was not in the cards, given my - inclinations." He stared pensively at the teacup. "That left doing it myself."
Remus watched, mesmerized, as he rubbed his belly again with a tenderness that no one who had known Severus as a teacher could have imagined. "What about the - father, I suppose one would have to call him?" he said at last. "Do you live with him?"
"I haven't had a lover in years, not that it's any of your business." The teacup floated to a Chinese Chippendale side table as Severus arranged his legs for maximum leverage. He braced himself on the cushions and grunted as he maneuvered his bulk to a more upright position. Remus was at his side to help support him before he could do more than open his mouth to object. "I modified one of the standard sex change potions to allow me to carry a child while remaining genetically male. As for the rest - "
He shrugged, a bit of his former smugness playing about his lips. "Let's just say that I drew on the Muggle side of my heritage to complete the process."
"And now you're pregnant." Saying "you're pregnant" to a man was not nearly as difficult as Remus had imagined, particularly one who seemed as pleased with his condition as Severus clearly was. "Congratulations. I hope everything goes well for you and your - ?"
"Daughter. Isabelle, for my grandmother Prince." Severus deftly extracted his arm and narrowed his eyes. "Forgive me my skepticism if I don't immediately fall upon your shoulders in thanks. You're the first non-Muggle who hasn't recoiled in horror."
Remus frowned. Male pregnancy was rare in the Wizarding World, but it was not unheard of, especially in what passed for a gay community. A famous drag queen in New York had just given Hi There! an exclusive story about the birth of his first child, complete with a pictorial that included several strangely erotic semi-nude photos taken by his partner, a Squib who photographed Muggle models. "I'm sorry to hear that. Babies are a blessing no matter how they come about, especially after two wars."
"Even when Snivellus is the mummy?" The bitterness in Severus' voice made Remus wince.
"I never called you that," said Remus, forcing himself not to reply in kind. "And note that Albus made Sirius and Harry behave themselves." He hesitated. "Have you made plans for afterwards? Caring for a newborn isn't easy - Lily barely slept for a month after Harry was born, and she was alone most of the time since James had to work. I think she would have killed for a house elf or a nanny, or even a babysitter so she could sleep."
"I need little sleep," said Severus, straightening as much as his condition would allow. "I have every confidence in my - " he hissed at a kick strong enough that Remus could see the movement just under his ribcage. " - ability to raise my own child."
"I have no doubt that you're right." Remus kept his mind open in case that oddly intense gaze meant that Severus was using legilimency on him. "But if you change your mind, let me know. Being a war pensioner doesn't precisely occupy all my time."
Another thump from upstairs made both men look upwards. Someone shouted what sounded like rostrum avis!, and a woman (almost certainly Molly) shrieked loudly enough that a faint wisp of plaster drifted down from the old gas fixture. Severus took a step backward, one hand protectively splayed over his belly, the other on his wand. "Dunderheads, they'll bring the whole bloody building down on themselves!"
"I have this dreadful feeling you're right." Remus tossed a handful of Floo powder into the beautifully restored fireplace. "I know a cafe in Pattern Alley where we won't have to worry about the Kilkenny Cats. Shall we?"
"As long as none of the staff have ginger hair," said Severus, scowling at another yell in a strong West Country accent. "Lead the way."
The next two months were the most unusual of Remus Lupin's life.
Despite his obvious skepticism, Severus did not object when Remus started dropping by his surprisingly airy, neatly furnished cottage. There were a great many books, including a huge stack on pregnancy, birth, and infant care. A well-stocked greenhouse and laboratory behind the cottage housed Princely Potions, Severus' mail order business. One of Pomona Sprout's cousins came in twice a week to weed, water the plants, and assist Severus in handling bulk orders now that he was nearing term. She kept to herself and rarely entered the main house.
The one thing that seemed missing was a nursery. Severus had cleared out the second-best bedroom as soon as he'd passed the first trimester, but what furniture and supplies he'd bought remained in their shipping crates.
"And of course as soon as the furniture arrived, the dunderheads at St. Mungo's decided to sack their in-house brewer and hired me to supply their medicinals until they could find another of Slughorn's pets," Severus had complained when Remus asked about the barren little room. "By the time they'd brought Culpepper in from Hunstaton, I couldn't bend at the waist, let alone assemble most of these allegedly essential pieces of furniture. One would think the manufacturers would include incantations for the price they're asking!"
"I'm free this week," Remus had said in his mildest voice. "I'd be happy to help."
Severus had muttered something about being pregnant, not crippled, but had grudgingly agreed that tucking a newborn into a dresser drawer was absurd when there was a perfectly good cot that only needed a few screws and a coat of paint. Remus had set to work, and by the time Severus had wakened from his afternoon nap, the cot and changing table were assembled, primed, and ready for the soft blue and cream milk paints Severus had chosen.
And so it continued throughout June and July. Despite Severus' insistence that he needed no help, especially from a werewolf with a limp and questionable taste in friends, there was always some chore that needed to be done, or some errand in the village that Severus could not see to himself without Muggles asking about his "glandular condition." By the time Severus was put on apparation-restriction and told to have someone else bring him to his weekly medical appointments for fear of triggering early labor, Remus was tempted to pitch a tent in the dyer's greenweed.
Not that Remus minded coming over to fetch and carry and paint and unpack and brew tea rich with critical nutrients. Without a steady job, he had little else to do besides dust his tiny flat and listen to Willie Wooton's Tips for the Missus on the WWN. Most of the Order were too busy with wedding plans and school curricula to take the time for a pint or a cuppa. Sirius had moved in with his half-blood, Alex, a journalism student who insisted that he write his memoirs and use them to advocate for prison reform. Remus was lucky to get the occasional owl asking him how to spell "teleological" or "pellucid."
Helping Severus kept him occupied, and Severus himself was surprisingly good company for all the customary jibes about Gryffindors, fleabitten animagi, and the stupidity of any past student who wasn't Draco Malfoy or Hermione Granger. They liked the same music, cheered for the same Quidditch teams, and had read many of the same books. There was enough common ground that Remus wished he'd taken the time to get to know Severus years ago; the energy and charisma that had made Sirius his best mate as a teenager were oddly grating now that they were both pushing forty. Tastes in common and a shared desire for a quiet life were far better than excitement and energy.
Against all odds, he and Severus were becoming friends. The only problem was that Remus found himself wanting more than friendship.
It was not what he had expected, but after the third time he'd wakened humping a pillow and gasping Severus' name, it was obvious what was going on. Worse, the Severus of his dream bore an uneasy resemblance to the pictorial spread of the pregnant drag queen in Hi There!, the one Remus had stared at until he had memorized every ripe, lush, fecund curve. Remus had done his best to imagine someone, anyone else, as he yanked himself to completion, but it was no use. He had always wanted children despite having more male than female lovers, and had long since resigned himself to being everyone's Nice Bachelor Uncle. Now he found himself wondering if the stories about pregnant women - persons - craving sex were more than stories, or if there was any possibility that Severus might be interested in something less platonic once his daughter was born.
Of course it came to nothing. Severus, for all that he now seemed to enjoy having Remus in his life, gave no indication that he might be interested in a physical relationship. The only times they ever touched were when Remus apparated them to and from St. Mungo's, and that only for a few moments. The sole exception was the night Severus got a leg cramp that nearly doubled him over, and Remus supported him while the pain dissipated. Their lips had almost touched when Severus had lifted his head at last, and for one moment the intensity of that dark gaze had Remus wondering if Severus wanted him, too – and then he had straightened up, and thanked Remus, and waddled into the kitchen for yet another healthy snack.
It been disappointing, and infuriating, and Remus had berated himself for his own stupidity. He had read a book and ignored his friends when they'd tormented Severus at school, then done his best to undermine the man's authority when they were colleagues at Hogwarts. A few months of playing Handy Andy and being a human taxi could scarcely make up for that.
And so he had gone home, wanked, and done his best to forget the kiss that never was. Severus was now his friend, and that was enough.
It would have to be.
The Merry Widow Waltz ended with a flourish from Ernest Brotundbutter and His All-Elf Orchestra. Remus managed to bow without his bad knee folding on him and gallantly led Fleur Delacour-Weasley back to her husband before anyone could ask why a war hero and friend of Harry Potter had come stag to the social event of the summer. He had done his best to avoid making a fool of himself on the Ministry's famous parquet floor, but gayer men than he had succumbed to the charms of a veela who wanted to dance with "all zee memberz of zee Order."
"Having fun, Moony?" Sirius, in robes that had belonged to his father, bore a startling resemblance to a Victorian rake, complete with top boots, fetchingly disheveled hair, and a glass of red wine in one hand. "Have you seen Alex? Doesn't she look amazing?"
Remus managed a tight smile as Sirius beamed at his girlfriend. She wore a vintage ball gown of ice blue silk and turquoise tulle, and had pinned her long blonde dreadlocks into a towering bouffant. The attempt at elegance was ruined by enough kohl around her eyes to make a pharaoh blush, a hot pink ostrich feather in her hair, and a necklace of glaringly fake paste brilliants. "Amazing, yes. How's the book coming?"
"Coming well, and that's not the only thing." Sirius elbowed Remus in the ribs hard enough to jostle the Order of Merlin, first class, that Kingsley Shacklebolt had pinned to the left breast of his dress robes an hour ago. "She's organizing a protest march on the next session of the Wizengamot, complete with a nude-in."
"Nude-in?"
"That's what she calls it." Sirius downed the rest of his wine and placed the glass on a passing tray. "She and her sister Angel are going to strip naked and chain themselves to the Fountain of Magical Beings unless their demands for better treatment for prisoners are met. I'm going to be there with a camera to shoot the whole thing for the Quibbler."
"That should teach them a lesson, all right." Remus did his best to smile. His knee ached, his new robes itched, and something in the truffle-infused lobster pasta was giving him gas. The sooner he could make an excuse to leave, the better.
"That's what we – " Sirius broke off as a transparent, silvery ibis flew into the room. It glided down to land before them, folded its wings, and cocked its head at Remus.
My name is Trotulia Sedgwick. I have a patronus message for Mr. RJ Lupin from Mr. Severus Snape.
"Snivvy? He has some nerve, interrupting the – "
"Shut it, Sirius." Remus all but shoved him toward his girlfriend, dread curdling the expensive buffet dinner in his stomach. Severus' patronus was a deer, or had been the last time he'd seen it. Had something gone wrong? "I'm here. Go ahead."
Mr. Snape is in St. Mungo's in the early stages of labour. I admitted him after his water broke during our regular appointment –
"Water broke? That's disgusting – "
"I said shut it, Sirius!" Remus turned back to the ibis. "How is Severus? Has something happened to the baby?"
Mr. Snape and his child are both well. However, since he was admitted directly from my clinic, he did not have a chance to retrieve his hospital bag and certain paperwork necessary to register the birth. He believes you know the location of both the bag and the paperwork, and requests that you bring the same to the maternity ward of St. Mungo's as soon as possible.
"Of course." Remus had watched as Severus packed the valise with fresh robes for himself, a book to read in place of "that cack they provide in the maternity unit," and a set of impossibly small garments for Isabelle to wear home. The papers were likely the ones that Severus had been working on at his desk a few days ago when Remus arrived to pick up a bulk order for Madam Puddifoot's new café in Lincoln. "Tell him I'll be there directly."
Thank you. Ask for Mr. Snape at the front desk of the maternity unit. The ibis bowed, unfurled its great wings, and took off. Remus took a breath to settle himself and headed for the door.
"Moony, I – "
"Unless your next words are ‘I'm sorry,'" please get out of my way. Thank you." Remus ignored the startled squawk from his friend as he swept out the door. Severus had been increasingly jittery as his due date approached, and anything Remus could do to make it easier would be one less thing on his mind.
The bag was right by the front door, just where Severus had put it last week. Remus shrank it, tucked it in his pocket next to Severus' own Order of Merlin, first class, and murmured lumos as he opened Severus' desk. It was a Prince family heirloom of heavily carved oak, and Remus couldn't help but admire the rich grain of the wood.
A brown envelope labeled hospital paperwork in Severus' cramped, spiky handwriting lay on top of a neatly organized blotter. Remus tucked it into his robes and started to close the roll front when a piece of paper fluttered to the floor.
Remus started to kneel, then thought better of it when his knee gave a warning twinge. He was tempted to leave the – receipt? Grocery list? Cross-word puzzle clue? – paper where it fell, but Severus would have enough to deal with when he came home. "Accio list."
It flew into his hand, a small, creased, worn piece of paper. The first section, a list of some sort, was hand printed. Three other sections were scribbled, with numbers of some sort in the margin. Remus had started to fold it and place it back in one of the pigeonholes when something underlined in red caught his eye.
LR-59.
His lips parted as he recognized the sequence, and before he realized it he had pulled out the desk chair and started to read.
Essential Qualities in a Sperm Donor
1. Willing to sleep with me Not relevant – sex not involved in insemination
2. Willing to stay out of my life Not relevant – donors are anonymous
Intelligent
Good looking
Pleasant personality
6. Free of hereditary disease
7. Preferred hobbies….
Remus' hands shook as he carefully tucked the paper back into place, face down. He waited for the shock to wear off, reset the wards, and sprinkled a handful of Floo powder onto the banked coals of the adult-sized fireplace. Severus was waiting for him.
Severus. His friend. Who had no idea that he was about to give birth to Remus' daughter.
What in Merlin's name was he supposed to do now?
THREE WEEKS LATER
The doorbell rang. Severus closed his eyes and made a small, exhausted whimper as Isabelle let out a screech that would have roused the Seven Sleepers from their holy rest. He had been so proud of how organized the house had been when the visiting nurse from St. Mungo's had brought them home. She'd nodded approvingly at the nursery, made sure that Severus could change a nappie and warm up a bottle of formula, and gifted him with what was purportedly a month's worth of supplies before departing in a faint cloud of talcum powder. Severus had marveled again that a creature as perfect and lovely as Isabelle could have grown in his body, opened the Prophet to make sure that they'd spelled her name correctly in the birth announcement, and enjoyed the first whisky he'd had in nine months while his daughter slept like the angel she was.
It was the last quiet moment he'd had. Isabelle was everything he'd dreamed his daughter would be: intelligent, healthy, and so stunningly beautiful that if hadn't known better, he would have performed a paternity spell in the hospital to be sure that the morons in the nursery hadn't mixed up the identification spells and given him someone else's child. He had fallen in love with her the moment Healer Sedgwick had placed her in his arms, and had sworn that she would have every advantage he had lacked during his own tumultuous childhood: a decent house, a good education, and a father who didn't yell and stomp about and act like an erumpent in heat.
The first was accomplished; his cottage was far nicer and better furnished than the horrid two-up two-down where the Snapes had lived. The second would not be relevant until she old enough to walk, talk, and read, which God willing would not be for several years.
The third – to say that nothing had prepared him for a baby who slept, at most, two hours at a stretch, was constantly hungry, and even more constantly wet, was an understatement. He would have laid down his life for Isabelle without question or thought, but he was so exhausted that screaming back was starting to look like a logical and viable option.
The doorbell rang again. Severus made a feeble attempt at straightening the filthy, formula-stained robes he'd been wearing for two days (or was it three?), decided it wasn't worth what energy he could summon, and staggered to the door. If it was anyone except the visiting nurse come to check on him, he would turn them into a –
A –
A –
"Oh, sod it, I'm coming!" he shouted as the doorbell rang a third time. "Whatever it is can't possibly be that – "
He yanked the door open hard enough to bounce it off the wall and tried his best to make his grab for the frame look like a nonchalant gesture instead of a desperate attempt to stay upright. Remus Lupin, two sacks of groceries in his arms, stared at him as if he'd sprouted an ashwinder from the top of his unwashed head.
"Severus? Are you all right?"
Severus' jaw dropped. Lupin wore a Muggle style t-shirt advertising some sort of prisoners' rights group, faded jeans, and casual boots. The gray in his hair made him look distinguished, not faded, and his complexion was fresh and healthy. If he hadn't been half-blind with exhaustion, Severus would have dragged him in and snogged until he dropped the bags and kissed back. What was wrong with him?
"I'm fine. Just – " Severus whimpered again as Isabelle's cries echoed down the hall. What was the use? Lupin might be a Gryffindor but he wasn't stupid. "She won't stop. Crying."
"Here. Sit down before you collapse." Lupin set down the groceries and expertly steered Severus toward the kitchen chair. "When was the last time you slept? Or took a shower?"
"Sometime this week. I think." Severus stared as Lupin sketched an enchantment that sent every can, piece of fruit, and parcel of meat to its proper place in the pantry and ice box, then headed into the lounge where Isabelle lay sobbing. A few soft murmurs later and the sobs had turned to hiccups, then the delicate coos that Severus had marveled over in hospital. "What are you doing?"
Lupin returned, Isabelle in his arms. He shook a finger as Severus reached for the child. "No, Severus. I'll watch her for a few hours. You need to bathe and get some sleep before you fall over."
"She's my daughter!"
The man's expression was unreadable. "I know that, Severus," he said at last. "But you're no good to her like this. We'll be fine for a little while."
Severus closed his eyes against a sudden, horrifying impulse to cry. Lupin was the first and so far only one of his so-called friends who'd done more than send him a card or a basket of elf-raised fruit. "You'd do that? Look after her?"
"Of course I would." Lupin was positively handsome when he smiled. "There's nothing I'd like better."
Severus nodded and fled for the stairs before he made a complete ass of himself in front of the other man. Dirt and exhaustion were one thing, but breaking into hysterical sobs in front of a former Marauder, even one as delectable and mild-mannered as Remus Lupin, was not on.
The house was quiet when he woke from the first uninterrupted sleep he'd had since Isabelle's birth. Severus cautiously stretched, then sat up. He was still a bit tired, but the bone-deep exhaustion was gone. He worked his shoulders to loosen the post-nap stiffness and scratched his scalp. Why hadn't he asked for help before this? Poppy might have come, or Draco, or even Minerva. The smell of something hot and meaty wafted up from the kitchen. A note in Lupin's graceful handwriting rose from the bedside table, the writing barely visible in the pale gray light of impending dusk.
Dinner's almost ready. Take a shower and come eat. We can talk afterwards.
Remus
Severus stood, stretched again, and padded into the bathroom. Someone (presumably Lupin) had laid out fresh robes, soap, shampoo, clean towels, shaving foam, and a safety razor. He stripped off his robes, dropped them into the hamper for all the good it would do, and turned on the hot water. He normally showered quickly and efficiently, but he had gone so long without that he all but moaned at how good it felt to wash away sweat and baby spit and the faint scent of old nappies that seemed to cling to him these days. Even his hair got an extra soaping and two extra rinses, and he took his time combing out the tangles and squeezing out the excess water. He lingered over dressing as well. Lupin had found a tunic and drawstring trousers that would accommodate his thickened middle without making him look like he was still five months pregnant, men's undergarments (he would not think of just how Lupin knew that he'd taken the reversion potion), and a pair of soft carpet slippers. Wearing clothes that weren't designed for a woman made him feel almost himself again despite the postpartum flab. He breathed deep of the good smells of a home-cooked meal and started down the stairs. Lupin sat waiting for him in the dining room, Isabelle asleep in a cradle next to him. He gestured at two plates of roast chicken, sauteed aubergines and courgettes, crusty rolls, and a green salad drizzled with balsamic vinaigrette. Severus sat down opposite him, suddenly so hungry he had to force down the impulse to start stuffing himself instead of waiting while Lupin poured him a glass of what looked like a more than respectable red. "The house is clean, least the first floor," said Lupin. "One Floo call to Harry and he was happy to lend me Kreacher for an afternoon." Severus nearly choked on a perfectly seasoned bite of chicken. "Kreacher? That revolting old - "
"Now, now." Lupin reached across the table and patted his wrist for a moment. "He doesn't know you're not a pureblood, Severus. He was delighted to serve the newest little miss in the Wizarding World, wasn't he, darling?"
Isabelle stretched in her sleep and rolled over. Severus could not help smiling softly at his child. The faint aroma of baby powder and Sunlight Soap clung to her tiny, perfect body. "I'd almost forgotten that he likes children."
"So do I," said Lupin. He raised his glass. "To Isabelle. Welcome to the world."
"Indeed." Severus followed suit, took a sip that confirmed Lupin's excellent taste in wine, and tucked in.
The food was as good as it looked, and before he knew it their empty plates were soaking in the sink and they were settled on the sofa enjoying the last of the wine. Lupin had caught him up on all the latest gossip, from the Lammastide Ball to the disastrous incident at the Ministry when Sirius Black shucked off his clothes, screamed something about being a free man and not a number, and flexed his tattoos at an elderly woman who turned out to Shacklebolt's liaison to the Queen. Severus had countered with a semi-current story about Draco Malfoy's fruitless effort to find a bride at a Durmstrang reunion, and how he was now on the verge of hiring an American matchmaker who promised to find him a beautiful, wealthy, fertile pureblood in sixty days, or his money back.
They had both laughed at that, as much from shared memories of teaching Draco as anything else. Lupin shook his head, one big-knuckled hand smoothing his hair back into place.
"I almost feel sorry for Draco. The pressure to have a son must be immense."
"I feel sorrier for the bride," said Severus. "I guarantee that she'll be on my doorstep looking for help if she's not pregnant within six months of the wedding." He glanced at his daughter, still miraculously asleep. "That's one of the reasons I did what I did, you know. Had her myself. At least this way she'll know she was wanted, not conceived because of an entailment or to keep an ancient name alive."
Lupin's face clouded. "I know you wanted her. You had to, to do what you did. Taking a feminizing potion so you could carry her yourself, and then going to a Muggle sperm bank - "
"I couldn't very well go to a Wizarding sperm bank, since there aren't any." Severus had drunk just enough wine to choke as he realized exactly what Lupin had said. "Sperm bank? How did you know that? I never told you, or anyone else! Even Healer Sedgwick doesn't know!"
"I - Severus, I - " Lupin had gone alarmingly pale. "You don't understand."
He almost summoned his wand and ordered Lupin out of his house. How dare the man invade his privacy! Isabelle's conception was no one's business but his, and someday hers when she was old enough. "You - how dare you! What did you do, rifle my desk while I was asleep? I should - "
"Of course not!" Remus shot him a desperate glance as Isabelle began to fuss. Both men froze until she had calmed. "I supervised Kreacher, cooked dinner, and tended Isabelle. What was I supposed to do? The house was a wreck."
The wine was almost gone. Severus deliberately set both glasses on the coffee table. "Granted. That still doesn't explain how you knew that I used a Muggle sperm bank to conceive my child."
Lupin swallowed, hard. Severus had to remind himself that the man was a werewolf, and a Gryffindor, to distract himself from the sudden urge to nibble that tempting neck. "I didn't search your house today. I want to be perfectly clear about that."
He jerked his head up and down in acknowledgment. Lupin had always been a terrible liar.
Lupin swallowed again and continued. "Remember the night Isabelle was born? Your Healer sent me a message that you wanted your hospital bag and paperwork."
"Go on." Severus had seen Lupin just long enough to thank him before another contraction had all but wrenched him in half. He had looked almost as wretched as Severus felt.
"I had to go into your desk to get the papers and - oh bugger. This isn't easy." Lupin pointed his wand at the desk and muttered a summoning charm. A single sheet of paper fluttered into his palm. "I'd just hauled out the papers when this fell on the floor. I was putting it back and couldn't help reading it."
Severus flushed at the sight of his list of must-haves as Lupin handed it over. The first two items were crossed out, but the words were still readable. "You found my list? If you tell Sirius Black - "
Lupin's eyes widened. "Never. It's none of his business." He tapped the paper with his wand. "That number. LR-59. Is that the man you chose?"
Severus took a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn't blame Lupin for finding the list, especially since he'd scarcely bothered to conceal it, and if he had planned to mock he would have done so before now. "Yes. According to the staff at the gamete donation center, he met all my criteria."
Why was Lupin staring at him? Severus tossed the list onto the table next to the wine glasses. "Of course he wasn't a Wizard, but it was that or make a fool of myself seducing a man long enough to fall pregnant, and then either obliviate him or put up with him. I know there was a risk that Isabelle would not be magically powerful, but between my own ability and the potions I took before the insemination, the odds of her being a Squib were - why are you laughing? This is my daughter, not one of your bloody little Marauder jokes!"
Lupin gasped for breath. "You needn't worry about her being a Squib, Severus. If anything, you may have birthed another Armida."
"What? What are you talking about? Her father is a Muggle!"
"Her father is sitting right in front of you, Severus," said Lupin. He opened his arms and made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. "I'm LR-59."
The only sound was the faint whisper of a summer breeze outside the window. They stared at each other for what seemed like an least an hour.
"You're joking." Even as he spoke, Severus knew Lupin was not. "You - are you out of your mind? Donating - donating your semen when you're a werewolf? Are you insane?"
Lupin grabbed both his hands before he could protest further. "Think, Severus. You know very well that the only way I can pass along the curse is by biting while I'm transformed. Werewolves have been selling their blood for years, and when was the last time you heard about Muggle werewolves in hospital? Sperm donation is perfectly safe."
"I didn't know about the blood sales." Severus should have wrenched his hands free and ordered Lupin to leave. But it had been so long since someone had touched him, and Lupin's hands were so strong and warm. "You're certain?"
"Honour bright," said Lupin, with the solemnity of a true Gryffindor. "I promised myself years ago that I would never infect another human being. That includes babies and sick people."
"Good heavens," murmured Severus. He stared down at their clasped hands, then shifted so he could see his daughter. The sick, hollow feeling he had expected when Lupin dropped his bombshell was non-existent. "The counselor was right."
"Counselor? I don't - "
"Never mind." Someday, perhaps, Severus would tell Lupin directly that he did look a bit like the actor who had replaced Alec Guinness in a favorite old film.
"She looks like my mother, you know." Lupin opened his wallet to a Muggle photo of a young woman in a WAAF uniform, Magical Auxiliary. He gazed wistfully at the photo, then the baby in her cradle. "I know Isabelle doesn't have any hair to speak of, but her eyes and her chin are just like Mum's. I never thought I'd actually see any of my children, let alone actually know the other parent. "
It was very tempting to call Lupin a maudlin idiot, especially since there was no guarantee Isabelle's eyes would remain so intensely blue, or her hair would not darken and straighten as she grew older. Severus knew enough about genetics that he had no doubt his own dark coloring would manifest itself sooner or later. "She's still my daughter, you know."
"I know that," said Lupin. He lifted his chin a notch. "But she's mine, too. A paternity spell should be enough to put my name on her birth certificate."
The fine meal felt like a lead ball in his stomach. "I'm not giving her up, if that's - "
"Give her up? Why would you think that?" exclaimed Lupin. "Severus, I don't want to take her from you. After all you went through - "
Severus allowed himself to relax a fraction. "Half a year brewing, pre-insemination counseling, nine months of pregnancy, sixteen hours of labor - "
"Dear God. Sixteen hours? No wonder you were so tired," said Lupin. He took Severus' hands again, this time with a gentleness that made Severus shiver despite himself. "All I want is to be part of her life, and yours."
And before Severus could move or react, Remus Lupin had leaned over and kissed him, full on the lips.
"What - Lupin, you - "
"You needed me when you were carrying her, Severus." Who knew that Lupin - Remus - sounded so sexual when he whispered? "You still do. I want to take care of you both. I can move in, at least for a while. "
Severus tried to pull free but his heart was not in it, not when Remus was kissing him again, this time with parted lips and probing tongue. "If this is one of your pranks I'll make very sure that Isabelle has no more siblings," he managed. "You never said - "
"I never had a chance to know you before you were pregnant," said Remus. One hand lifted the hem of Severus' tunic and stroked the bare flesh underneath. "You have no idea how hard it was to restrain myself toward the end. And when I realized that Isabelle was mine - "
"Ours." It was no use restraining himself, not with the last remnants of female hormones still flooding his veins. "You're mad, you know. Completely, utterly mad."
"I know." Remus pulled him into a kiss that went down better than the wine. "Then again, you're a fine one to talk, getting pregnant the way you did."
Severus smirked and kissed him back. He would be willing to put up with a great deal for more of the same. And since Remus could cook, clean, and wrangle geriatric house elves - "
"Just don't shed on the baby," he whispered as Remus began to work his way down his jaw and chin toward his throat.