Chapter Text
Severus had just reached the beginning of his fifth month, and his health was rapidly deteriorating. Harry, unable to bear witness to his husband's escalating suffering, practically carried a reluctant Severus to the hospital wing. Severus, in a constant state of irritability and exhaustion, was further burdened by his persistent morning sickness that had yet to abate. As they stepped into the hospital wing, Severus's scowl deepened, anticipating the forthcoming lecture from Poppy with a mix of dread and resignation.
Poppy was immediately concerned upon seeing Severus. After conducting some scans, she frowned deeply. "Severus, you've lost more weight. This isn't sustainable. You're underweight, and it's affecting your health—and the baby's," she admonished, her tone stern yet worried.
Severus muttered under his breath, his patience thinning. "I'm aware, Poppy," he snapped, clearly unhappy.
Harry, his face etched with worry, stood by as Poppy suggested another potion and insisted that Severus must increase his food intake. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he chimed in, "If it comes to it, I'll spoon-feed you if I have to." His words, laced with a mix of humor and desperation, did little to alleviate Severus's mood, earning him a sharp, resentful glare.
Severus was silent on the walk back to their quarters, his mind racing with frustration over his body's betrayal and the invasive nature of everyone's concern. Once inside the privacy of their bedroom, the bottled-up tension erupted.
"You're suffocating me, Harry!" Severus burst out, throwing his hands in the air. "I know you mean well, but your constant hovering is too much. I'm not a child; I'm just pregnant."
Harry, standing by the bed with a glass of water and another of Poppy's prescribed potions, set them down harder than necessary. "I'm only trying to help, Severus. You're not well, and it's scaring me," he retorted, his voice rising in worry.
Severus glared up at him, his voice cold. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need you treating me like I'm some fragile—"
"But you are fragile! You should be over morning sickness by now and gaining weight. But you're not even eating, Severus!" Harry interrupted his own patience fraying.
Severus, pale and gaunt from months of nausea, snapped back, his voice icy, "I'm doing everything I can. I take that bloody potion every day, I try to eat, but anything I eat comes right back up. It's not as though I enjoy this! What more do you want from me?"
Harry, his own temper flaring, retorted, "I want you to actually listen to Poppy and not just nod along! I want you to be here, with me, healthy, not just wasting away in front of my eyes!"
Severus, feeling cornered and vulnerable, lashed out, "Well, I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for your bloody powerful magic overriding the potion."
Harry's face reddened, his voice raising in defense, "That’s unfair, and you know it. It takes two to tango, Severus!"
The argument escalated quickly, their words laced with the fear and desperation they both felt but seldom voiced. Severus, his defenses breaking down, hissed, "I'm not some project for you to fix, Harry! I'm your husband, not a case at your damn office!"
"And I'm not just your spouse who stands by while you push yourself too hard!" Harry shot back, his face flushed with emotion. "I'm trying to support you, but you keep shutting me out, Severus!"
Finally, the tension reached its boiling point. Harry, breathing heavily, realized they were both too heated, too caught up in their own pain and worry. "I'm going before we say something we can't take back."
Severus, chest heaving with ragged breaths, watched in a mix of anger and regret as Harry stormed out of the room. The door slammed with a resounding thud, leaving Severus alone with the echoing silence of their harsh words. He slumped against the bed, his anger slowly dissipating into a profound weariness. The realization of how harshly they had spoken to each other weighed heavily on him.
Later, in his fifth-year potions class, Severus's temper was noticeably shorter, a clear sign to Albus that his parents had fought. Albus, understanding the likely reason—his father's health.
As the last of the students shuffled out of the classroom, Albus approached his father’s desk hesitantly. Severus, gathering his papers with more force than necessary, looked up, his expression softening slightly at the sight of his son, though his voice retained its edge. “What is it, Albus?”
"Dad," Albus started, his voice careful, "are you okay? You seem... off today."
Severus, still reeling from the morning's confrontation with Harry, was quick to bristle under the scrutiny. "I'm fine, Albus." Severus snapped harshly, his tone more biting than he intended. "I don’t need another Potter fussing over me."
Albus recoiled slightly, hurt flashing in his eyes. He had wanted to offer support, not criticism, but the defensive wall his father put up was all too familiar and just as impenetrable as ever. "I'm just worried about you," Albus muttered, his voice thick. "We all are." He turned to leave, his shoulders tense.
Left alone, Severus sat at his desk, rubbing his temples, feeling the onset of a headache. He sighed deeply, regretting his harsh words but too exhausted to chase after his son. He knew his irritability wasn't fair to Albus or anyone else; they were all just concerned. But the constant attention, the endless worrying—it was overwhelming. Severus felt trapped by his own body and the situation, and his pride felt particularly bruised by his physical vulnerabilities. He sighed, resting his head in his hands, feeling the weight of his condition and the strain it was putting on his family.
At the Ministry of Magic, Harry was unusually terse with the new Auror recruits during a routine training session. His instructions were more clipped than usual, his patience thin. Ron, who was overseeing part of the session, noticed Harry’s mood immediately but chose to wait until lunch to address it. At lunch, he and Hermione met at Harry's office.
"Alright, mate, what's got your wand in a knot today?" Ron asked, half-joking as he took a seat. Hermione shot Ron a look before turning her attention to Harry.
"You do look more tired than usual, Harry. Is everything okay?" Hermione's tone was gentle, her concern palpable.
Harry, slumping into his chair with a tired sigh, ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "It's Severus... He's having a really rough time with this pregnancy. Morning sickness like you wouldn't believe, and he’s losing weight, not gaining... and this morning we had a fight about it all." Harry confessed, his voice heavy with worry.
Ron's expression softened, and Hermione reached out to place a comforting hand on Harry's arm. "I just feel so helpless," Harry continued. "He's miserable, and it's all my fault. If only my magic hadn't overridden his potion he would be healthy and happy."
Hermione squeezed his arm. "Harry, it's understandable you feel responsible, especially since your magic played a part in this, but Severus chose to continue with the pregnancy. He knew what he was signing up for, and he wanted this baby, despite the difficulties."
Ron nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and you know Severus. He's never been one to shy away from a challenge, even if it's a challenging pregnancy."
Harry nodded, but his guilt lingered. "I just hate seeing him like this. He’s just so unwell, and not being able to do anything about it is killing me. It’s taking a toll on him physically and mentally. He’s older now, and it’s not like before with the other pregnancies. And every time I try to help, he sees it as hovering or fussing. I can't do anything right!"
Hermione considered this, her brow furrowed in thought. "Severus values his independence, Harry. Perhaps his irritability is less about your actions and more about his own frustrations with not being able to control his body the way he's used to. Remember, it's been a while since his last pregnancy, and yes, he is older. He is also probably feeling quite vulnerable."
Ron chimed in, "Yeah, and we all know how he gets about showing weakness. He does quite poorly and lashes out. Sure, he's mellowed out a lot since the war, but the old Severus is still definitely there."
Harry nodded slowly, taking in their words. "I know, and I understand that. It's just hard watching him go through this..."
Hermione smiled softly. "Just continue being there for him, Harry. It's okay to worry, but you also have to trust Severus's judgment about his own health. Try to support him in ways he accepts. Sometimes, just being there is enough without having to fix everything. And remember, it's okay for you to need support too. We're here for you."
Ron grinned, adding, "And if you ever need to escape for a bit, you know where to find us."
Harry managed a small smile, appreciating the comfort his friends offered. "Thanks, both of you. I guess I just needed to vent. It's going to be a long four more months."
"Anything we can do, just shout. And maybe bring him by for dinner sometime? A change of scenery might do him some good, and you know Mum would love to fuss over him," Ron suggested, always quick to involve his family's nurturing ways.
Hermione nodded, "And keep us updated, Harry. We're here for you both, no matter what."
Harry slipped quietly out of the Ministry after a long day marked by frustration and emotional fatigue. He detoured to a small, magical boutique that Severus had mentioned in passing, a place where rare potion ingredients and artifacts were sold. There, he picked up a rare potions journal Severus had mentioned in passing but never bought for himself. With the gift tucked under his arm, Harry then apparated to Eileen's school to pick her up.
They flooed home together, and upon arrival, their quarters were unusually quiet, the kind of quiet that spoke to the tension still lingering in the air. Harry sent Eileen off to start her homework before seeking out his husband. He found him in his study, buried under a mountain of student essays, his expression focused and a bit sour.
Severus didn't look up as Harry entered, a clear sign he was still upset from their earlier altercation. Harry approached cautiously, leaning against the desk beside Severus, watching as the quill flicked sharply across a particularly poor essay.
"Brutal as ever, I see," Harry commented as he read a particularly scathing remark Severus had written over his shoulder. At least attempt to understand the basics before trying to brew anything more complex than tea.
"I'm glad I'm not on the receiving end of those anymore," Harry commented, trying to break the ice with a light tone.
Severus paused, his quill hovering mid-air, and finally met Harry's gaze with a neutral expression that Harry had learned to read as guarded vulnerability. “What do you want, Harry?” Severus’s voice was cool, measured. Harry took this as his cue, waving a hand to close the door and casting a silencing spell for privacy.
"I came to apologize," Harry began, his voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. "I know you're trying your best. It's just... seeing you so unwell and not being able to do anything about it—it kills me to see you so miserable. I can't help but feel guilty... it's because of my magic that we're here, and I can't fix this. Your discomfort, the complications..."
Severus set his quill down and leaned back, his defenses slowly lowering as he considered Harry's words. "I know you feel responsible," he said quietly, "It was unfair of me to accuse you. It’s not like you deliberately sabotaged the potion. And... I wasn’t exactly an unwilling participant at the time, was I?" A small smirk played on his lips, easing the tension slightly.
Harry smiled, relieved to see a hint of humor returning to Severus’s demeanor. "No, you definitely weren’t. I just hate seeing you like this, struggling. I want to help, but I also don't want to smother you. I need to find a better balance."
Severus smirked slightly, a trace of his usual fire returning. "Yes, well, a bit less hovering might be appreciated. I'm pregnant, not porcelain."
Harry chuckled, the tension easing between them. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the journal he had bought. "I got you something to maybe take your mind off the discomfort a little."
Severus's eyes softened as he accepted the gift, his fingers brushing against Harry's as he took the package. "You are impossible," he murmured, but the warmth in his tone belied his words.
As Severus slowly unwrapped the package, his eyes lit up with a spark of genuine surprise as he recognized the rare and very pricey potions journal. “You remembered,” he acknowledged softly, allowing a small smile to break through.
“Yes, and there’s more where that came from if you keep letting me back into your good graces,” Harry quipped, earning a snort from Severus.
“Come here,” Severus said, pulling Harry closer by his shirt. Their kiss was slow and deep, a reaffirmation of their bond, the earlier tension melting away as they reconnected. When they parted, Harry joked, "So, no more comments about me being a meddler?"
Severus raised an eyebrow. "I'll reserve judgment on that. For now, let's just say you're a very attentive husband."
One week later, Severus was finally feeling some relief from the relentless morning sickness that had plagued him for months. As his appetite returned, so did a bit more of his usual energy, though he was still far from his normal self.
One morning, as they prepared for the day, Harry observed Severus wrestling with his robes, which had become uncomfortably tight. The fabric strained at the seams, and Severus frowned at his reflection in the mirror, clearly displeased.
Seeing his husband's frustration, Harry stepped closer and placed his hands on Severus's shoulders, guiding him away from the mirror. "Let me help," he offered, his voice soft, as he adjusted the fit of the robes to make them more comfortable. Severus relaxed slightly under Harry's skilled hands, his irritation ebbing away.
"You might be more comfortable in something a bit more... accommodating," Harry suggested gently, aware of the minefield he was treading.
Severus let out a disgruntled sigh, "It’s ridiculous. These fit just last week." He looked down at his expanding midsection with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.
Harry smiled softly, reaching to adjust the fabric with a more practiced touch. "You're growing, love. It’s a good sign, means the baby is healthy." He finished adjusting and gave Severus a quick, comforting peck on the lips.
The kiss did its job, pulling a reluctant smile from Severus. "I suppose you’re right," he concedes, his mood lightening slightly. "Though I never thought I’d be doing this again."
Harry's eyes twinkled with affection as he looked at Severus. "You don't have any classes this afternoon. How about we go shopping for some new robes? Make sure you’re comfortable. I'll clear my schedule."
Severus arched an eyebrow, his tone dry. "Shopping? Not exactly my idea of a day well spent, but perhaps... if you're there to make it tolerable, I might survive it."
Harry chuckled, wrapping his arms around Severus from behind and resting his chin on Severus’s shoulder. "I’ll make sure it’s as painless as possible. Maybe we can stop for lunch somewhere nice, just the two of us."
Severus considered this, then nodded, leaning back into Harry's embrace. "Alright, but I'm holding you to that—especially the lunch part."
Later, as Severus strode out of the Hogwarts gates after his last class, he felt a mix of reluctance and necessity about the afternoon's agenda. Meeting Harry in Diagon Alley, they first stopped for lunch at a cozy little cafe known for its hearty meals. Severus, whose appetite has returned somewhat, managed to eat a respectable amount, much to Harry's relief and delight. As Severus dug into his meal, he caught Harry staring at him with an affectionate smile.
"Stop looking at me like that," Severus grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched in amusem*nt. "This—this is why I need new robes."
Harry chuckled, reaching across the table to squeeze Severus's hand reassuringly. "Well, you've got quite a bit of catching up to do after all that weight you lost. I'm just glad to see you eating again."
Over lunch, they chatted amiably about mundane matters—how Albus was managing his OWL year stress, Lily's latest Quidditch practice, Eileen's primary school drama, and the small breakthroughs Harry's made with his department at the Ministry. The normalcy of the conversation soothed some of Severus's irritation about the shopping trip ahead.
Post-lunch, they make their way to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "I can't believe I'm doing this again," Severus grumbled, eyeing the cheerful sign with something akin to betrayal. "I disposed of my paternity robes years ago, convinced we were done expanding our family. I was quite clear, Harry. Three was the limit. And yet, here we are, expecting number four."
Harry, walking beside him, couldn't help but smile, finding Severus's grumpiness endearing. "I remember, love. But I also remember someone being quite enthusiastic on the particular night this little one was conceived," he teased gently, nudging Severus's shoulder with his own.
Severus shot him a withering look, one that might have made a lesser man wilt. "Enthusiasm for you does not equate to a desire for an expanding brood," he retorted. "And now, look at me. Outgrowing my robes, entirely too old for this."
Harry, ever the picture of patience and understanding, chuckled softly. "Severus, love, you know I'm grateful for every part of our family, including this unexpected surprise. Besides, you look distinguished, not old."
Severus shot him a glare that could have curdled milk. "Distinguished is what one calls ancient artifacts, Harry, not their pregnant husband who's supposed to be well past the age of birthing more children."
Their banter continued as they stepped into the elegant interior of the robe shop and were greeted by an overly cheerful assistant who seemed impervious to Severus's less-than-enthusiastic demeanor.
"Good afternoon, Professor Snape, Mr. Potter! What can I do for you today?" the assistant chirped, clipboard in hand.
Severus sighed deeply but resigned himself to the task at hand. "I require robes—paternity robes," he said, the last two words nearly a whisper.
The assistant nodded eagerly, fetching her measuring tape. Severus eyed the tape measure like it was a dark artifact as she started taking his measurements, his discomfort palpable as the tape wrapped around his fuller middle. Each new number announced felt like an affront, a reminder of the changes his body was undergoing. He muttered darkly under his breath about expanding girths and the injustices of pregnancy.
"Stop fussing, it's necessary," Harry chided gently.
Severus snorted, unamused. "Necessary or not, it doesn’t make it any more enjoyable," he retorted, adjusting his particularly snug robe. "And would you stop grinning like that? It's unnerving."
"You're carrying our child, and you are absolutely stunning when you do."
Severus snorted dismissively, but the corner of his mouth twitched upwards momentarily. "Stunning isn't the term I would use, Potter. Perhaps 'visibly irate' would be more accurate."
Harry chuckled, watching Severus endure the fitting process. His attention was briefly drawn away by a group of young witches pointing at him and whispering behind their hands, clearly recognizing the famous Auror. Severus noticed the attention Harry was getting, and his frown deepened.
"Really, Harry, must you look so appealing in that uniform? You've got half the shop undressing you with their eyes." Severus snapped after the fourth or fifth whispered point from the group of witches.
Harry's smile broadened, amused by Severus's jealousy. "Like what, exactly? Handsome? Dashing? Irresistibly attractive?" he teased, earning a scowl from Severus that only made him more endearing.
Severus rolled his eyes, "You look young and fit, and here I am, old and getting fatter by the day."
Harry immediately dropped his teasing tone and adopted a stern one, "Severus, I won’t hear any more of this talk about you being old or fat. You are lovely, and carrying our child only adds to that. Let's focus on finding you something comfortable."
After finishing her measurements, the assistant began pulling various styles of robes from the racks. Each robe she presented seemed to meet Severus's critical eye with a new level of disdain. Harry tried to lighten the mood by picking out some robes he thought Severus might like, but all his choices were met with a scowl. "Your sense of fashion is as dreadful as ever," Severus commented dryly as he fingered the material of a particularly elaborate robe Harry handed him.
With Harry's help, Severus tried on several options, all in Severus's preferred shade of black and with the numerous buttons he insisted upon, despite Harry's playful complaints. "Why must you have so many buttons, especially now?" Harry teased as he helpedfasten yet another complicated series of closures.
"Because, Harry, one must maintain a certain decorum, even in—especially in—one's less flattering moments," Severus retorted, adjusting the collar and looking at himself critically in the mirror.
After a series of trials and errors, they finally settled on a few sets of robes that Severus deemed acceptable. The chosen robes were sleek, designed to accommodate his growing belly without making it overly obvious—at least for a few more months.
Harry, watching from the side, smiled. "Perfect. You look dignified, love."
Severus caught Harry's gaze in the mirror and allowed a small smile. "Dignified and round," he corrected, but his tone was lighter now.
As they left the shop, robes in hand, Harry wrapped an arm around Severus's waist, drawing him close.
"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Harry asked, planting a kiss on Severus's temple.
Severus merely harrumphed. "Next time, I'm sending you on your own. And you're wearing sackcloth. Let's see how much attention you get then."
Harry laughed, the sound echoing down the alley. "Whatever makes you happy, love."
After securing Severus's new robes, Harry, sensing the need for a lighter mood, steered them towards Flourish and Blotts. He knew that nothing cheered Severus up quite like being surrounded by books. Severus, ever perceptive, gave Harry a look as they crossed the threshold into the scent of parchment and ink.
"I know what you're doing, Harry," Severus remarked, his tone softening as he glanced over the titles on the shelves, his fingers tracing the spines of various books.
Harry, trailing behind him with an easy smile, feigned innocence. "Whatever do you mean, Severus?"
Severus shot him a look, the corners of his mouth twitching. "You're trying to improve my mood by bringing me here. You know I can never resist the lure of new books."
"And is it working?" Harry asked, leaning in slightly, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
Severus sighed, though the gesture was devoid of any real frustration. "Perhaps. But don't let it go to your head."
Harry's smile widened as he watched Severus select a book, examining the cover before adding it to the pile he had started in his arms. "I wouldn't dream of it. Buy whatever you like, love. My treat."
Severus arched an eyebrow at him but said nothing, continuing his perusal of the shelves. After a few moments, he selected a book, then another, his collection growing. Harry trailed behind him, dutifully carrying the increasingly large stack of books Severus selected, his arms becoming laden with volumes on potions, dark arts defense, and magical theory.
After Severus had chosen a satisfactory haul, they approached the counter. Severus turned to Harry, an expression of genuine appreciation on his face. "Thank you, Harry. Not just for the books, but for... tolerating my mood today."
Harry reached out, squeezing Severus's hand briefly but firmly. "There's nothing to thank me for, Severus. We all have our days. Besides you know I'm more than happy to buy you whatever you want. We're not exactly short on funds."
Severus huffed, "You're incorrigible. You spoil me rotten; I still haven't gotten over that absurdly expensive potions journal you gifted me."
Harry grinned, wrapping an arm around Severus's shoulders as they left the store. "You're worth every knut, Severus."
Their next stop was to pick up Eileen from her magical primary school. Eileen was delighted to see both her parents waiting for her, and she chattered excitedly all the way through their apparition point back to Hogwarts. Severus listened, interjecting with his usual dry humor, causing Harry to chuckle warmly at the banter between father and daughter.
As they neared the castle, they unexpectedly ran into Lily and Albus, who were sweaty and flushed from a strenuous Quidditch practice but beamed upon seeing their parents. With quick goodbyes to their friends, both Lily and Albus eagerly joined their parents, insisting on coming along for dinner.
"Thought you'd get away without us?" Albus teased as he and Lily fell into step beside their parents.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Severus replied with a mock sternness that barely concealed his affection, his gaze softening as he looked at his children.
As the family walked together, Lily and Albus peppered Severus with questions about his day, obviously fussing over him. Severus, in his typical fashion, rolled his eyes at their concern. "I see the Potter tendency to hover isn’t limited to just your father," he remarked dryly, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his affection.
Back in the family quarters, Harry and Severus, with the help of the kids, prepared a hearty dinner—a favorite of Severus's, knowing it would be gentle on his still-sensitive stomach. As they all sat down to eat, the atmosphere was light and filled with laughter. The family shared stories and enjoyed each other's company, with occasional light teasing about the day's earlier shopping expedition.
