Redemption

50

After having written the instructions on the board, I sat at the teacher's desk, watching the students gather their ingredients and supplies. I rubbed my face in my hands, taking a deep breath before opening the planner. I always made to sure to keep note of which potions had been brewed, in case someone missed a class or skipped an assignment. 

Snape insisted it was a waste of time, as any dunderhead ought to have taken notes. Though, he wasn't going to be teaching them forever. I would be taking on his duties as Potions' professor the following school year. That is, if Ella Mitchell would stop interfering. 

Being thoroughly exhausted, emotionally and otherwise, on several occasions, my glamours faded. I decided to change into clothing that hid the rising swell of my abdomen. Poppy kept telling me that the overusing of magic could cause stress to the baby. I suppose I finally decided to listen to her. I was getting tired of hiding it, but hadn't found the proper moment to tell him. I couldn't bring myself to tear him apart that way. 

I visited Waverly often. She constantly asked about the baby, how we were both doing, when I was going to tell her father, when we would set aside formalities and admit that we felt very deeply for one another. My lips curved into a small smile, recalling that morning. 

Waverly's hands spread around my tummy, encasing the roundness of the child growing within me. She offered me a brilliant smile, placing her ear over my bellybutton. "Do you think they can hear us?"

I shrugged. "I don't see why not. Would you like to say something?"

She nodded excitedly. "I simply can't wait to meet you, baby Snape." She whispered, so much enthusiasm entering her hoarse voice, laden with illness. "I hope Papa and Hermione fix things before you arrive. I couldn't bear to have you grow up away from us."

Tears rolled down my face, onto the top of her head. Water droplets decorating dark curls like icicles from houses. She had gripped my hand in hers, holding it close to her heart. "I am certain the baby would love you too, little miss."

She smiled again. "Have you thought of names yet?"

I nodded slowly. "A little bit, I haven't really given it too much thought with all that is going on. Though, I love the names Calliope and Philippe."

Waverly cooed, leaning into me. "One of each, just in case."

Seeing as I was there, Poppy pulled me aside to examine me. "Would you like to know the baby's sex?"  

I nodded slowly, uncertain if I really did want to know. The older witch gave me a sad smile and set about performing her many spells. "Perfect health, both of you. I assume the father has been made aware?"

I shook my head. "Not yet... There is still so much going on at the moment. I haven't found the moment to."

The mediwitch frowned. "Dearie, you're nearing your sixth month now... Surely, he will have noticed." She waved it off. "In any case, you'll be having a boy."

I thanked her, leaving the curtained area to return to the young Ravenclaw bouncing anxiously in her bed, awaiting my return. "It looks like it's going to be Philippe," I said.

She squealed, grabbing my hand. "I've always wanted a little brother! I know Papa would love to have a son," she leaned over as if to tell me a secret. "I think living with so many girls, he'd appreciate a boy in the family."

A student before me interrupted me from my thoughts. My eyes slid shut momentarily, as I exhaled. "Yes, Mr Canary? How may I be of service?"

The boy placed his finished potion on the desk, named neatly written on the flask. "All done."