Hermione looked up when she heard the sound of the library doors opening and closing. Being she was the only one in here so the library was incredibly quiet, it was very noticeable. It was past curfew so it shouldn't be a student. Alexis Crosby, the new librarian, had let Hermione close up the past two nights when it was obvious she wasn't done with her research and Alexis wanted to go to bed. (Oh how she wished she'd had that privilege granted to her when she was a student!) Truth was, even if it wasn't past curfew, it was Friday night so the library would be empty besides her anyway.

Harry was home tonight, which was probably for the best. She really worked better without someone watching her turn pages and looking over her shoulder at the notes she was taking. Harry wanted to help, she knew he did. He'd wanted her for this job for a reason despite her not being an auror, though. He knew she'd research thoroughly, that she was the best chance he had to find information (none of the aurors she'd met were anyone she'd trust with this project), and that she wouldn't violate the confidentiality Minerva and Kingsley were trusting her with.

If she found someone did breach the wards and it turned into some sort of manhunt. Well, she would gladly turn control of things over to Harry for that part. She had no desire to chase after dark wizards or witches again. She'd heard a rumour that Minerva was thinking of starting a dueling club, which there again was something Hermione wanted no part of. She imagined since she was here, if the dueling club did happen Minerva would approach her about it. There wasn't any amount of money in the world Minerva could pay her to do that.

She felt … safe here doing this, even if she knew the results might be something bad.

So, when he'd told her Ginny thought she might be in labor, Hermione sent her best friend home to be with his wife. James had tricked her a few times before actual labor so it was possibly a false alarm. Whether the baby came tonight or not, Harry needed to be with Ginny not here watching her read and take notes. Hermione told him to let her know if she had to make an appearance at St. Mungo's tomorrow.

Until then, she was bound and determined to find something! It didn't help that she had no idea what to even look for. She was good, but she wasn't a miracle worker! Was it the wards? Was there a hidden tunnel no one seemed to know about? Was it something more sinister?

For now, she was focusing on the wards. The map didn't seem to show any tunnels they didn't already know about. Something sinister? She just couldn't picture those little girls being used as a ploy to do evil. Of course, she'd only caught glimpses of them over the past school week she'd been here. From all appearances, though, and listening to the gossip: they were just little girls. She honestly hated listening to the gossip, especially about Professor Snape. He'd been gossiped about enough in her opinion. She was here, though, to find out if there was a danger or something afoot so she listened.

She'd learned little.

No one knew he had children.

A few professors had bets on whether the children were the product of a death eater revel.

A few professors had bets on whether the children would survive their time with their father.

One seventh year student (so one who would have remembered Professor Snape's year as headmaster) said that she believed the older girl was polyjuiced and sent to be someone no one would suspect.

The second one made her roll her eyes when she heard it. The third made her want to hex the people saying such foul things about a man who'd done unspeakable things so that they'd be here not living under Voldemort's rule today.

The last was all well and good, certainly possible she supposed, except to what end? Severus Snape had been exonerated. It wasn't as if someone could come up to him and surprise him with a child that wasn't truly his. If she had learned the diagnostic spells to determine those things, certainly he had as well.

People knew nothing and just wanted to do what they could to continue making fun of a man in ways that just baffled Hermione. She'd seen his neck, throat, and shoulder. She didn't doubt there were more … residuals from his time as a spy. She'd heard enough at various trials to know that Voldemort was definitely not a spare the rod leader.

The books on the wards at Hogwarts were … fascinating. This was where she started since it appeared those wards were breached. Hermione knew that post-war they were tested at least twice a year (coinciding with the students' leaving for summer and Christmas breaks). If she knew Minerva (and Severus Snape), they were likely tested more frequently than that. Maybe not all of them but probably spot checks here and there to ensure nothing was amiss. Everything she read, though, pointed to the fact that the girls and their mother should not have been able to get into Hogwarts. Minerva's floo or the gates were the only entry points, and that hadn't happened.

So, how had they done it?

She was brought out of her thoughts, tilting her head a bit at the sound of Professor Snape's voice. He had not been who she was expecting to be in the library this late at night. Then, maybe this was the only time he had to himself these days.

Except he wasn't alone.

She smiled instinctively at the sight of the man carrying his youngest daughter. She couldn't help it. It was just so unexpectedly … normal and nice. The older one was right beside him, her hand in his. It was a sweet scene. He looked more comfortable tonight than she'd observed her first day here earlier in the week.

Acclimating? She'd first seen him in the Great Hall with hundreds of people so maybe that wasn't the best level set point so it was hard to know. Or was he more comfortable because he thought they were alone, unobserved? He had to know people were watching and talking about him.

With that in mind, she thought it best to make her presence known. Likely he wouldn't expect anyone to be here at this time of night either. (Was that why he'd come at this time?)

"Someone having problems falling asleep, Professor?" she asked.

He clearly hadn't noticed her so likely had assumed the library was empty. Not a far fetched expectation normally.

"Miss Granger. Yes. I've gone through the few books I have in my quarters about ten times each. I thought we'd try something new and different tonight."

"What books do you have already, Sir?"

"I'm sorry?" This was asked with a scowl.

"Well, you may be aware Harry has a little boy."

"I may live the life of a recluse, Miss Granger, but I am not living under a rock."

She chortled softly. She wasn't sure she was accusing him of that, but she wasn't sure how much he paid attention to Harry's life either.

"Of course, Sir, and I suppose you've had reason to speak with him during his visits here at Hogwarts. I didn't mean to imply anything or insult you, but didn't want to presume. Well, anyway, my point is I could probably point you in the direction of some titles that James particularly likes at this age," she said, gesturing to his younger daughter. "Of course, he still likes most of them. I might have some suggestions for a child a little older, too," she said, realizing the older girl may not like the books geared to her little sister's level. "I remember what I liked my parents to read to me when I was her age."

His eyes widened a bit and he shifted his daughter against him. Was she even awake? She must be because he set her down on her feet after releasing his older daughter's hand. Judging by the wet spots in her curls, and her sister's, they must have just had a bath.

She squinted with a slight shake of her head, trying to picture this man giving these little girls a bath. She just couldn't do it. And yet obviously he had. It just seemed so … common. He'd never struck her as common or ordinary. Even as their professor before knowing he was a spy he was impressive. Larger than life. He knew how to command a room and to make his presence known. She'd admired him even if he'd been a git at times. She understood now why he had been. She'd never forget his duel with Gilderoy Lockhart. At the time it had seemed so sinister when he was really trying to out the secrets the other professor was keeping.

Unless he had an elf do it, but somehow she didn't picture him doing that. She wasn't sure why or what made her think he wouldn't. The way he carried the youngest one in here. If he was going to let elves take care of them he wouldn't be here looking for books for them. Would he?

"That would be kind of you, Miss Granger," he said as the girl wrapped her whole fist around his little finger. She'd never paid attention to how large his hands were. Not that she had any business doing so now. She had noticed as his student how capable they were, graceful even. Seeing his daughter hang onto his finger, though, just drew attention to how tiny hers was compared to her dad's.

She had no business thinking about or focusing on his hands so was glad when he forced her to focus on what he was saying as he proceeded to prattle off a list of about a half dozen books. The last couple he sounded … as if he'd rather do anything but read them again anytime soon.

She'd always wondered why Hogwarts had a children's book section. She'd never seen a child here, but she supposed there just hadn't been one during her time as a student. That didn't mean there hadn't ever been any before 1991 or since then. And she imagined professors had children who visited them if they didn't live here.

"Well, since you have your hands full, you can have a seat if you trust me to pick out a few new titles for you."

"Thank you," he said, crossing to her table with his daughters walking by his side. The older one looked like she might be walking toward Hermione. He guided her, somewhat subtly, to a spot on the other side of the table from her. She didn't look happy to be following him instead of her, but she did it.

"My mum mysteriously lost our copy of a book I wanted her to read to me again and again."

"Lost it?"

"Yes, evidently it fell behind the sofa for a while."

He was staring at her for a moment and she saw a lifting of his lips into a knowing smirk when he realized what exactly she was telling him her mother had done.

"Your mum did this on purpose, is what you're saying?"

"So I was told when I got older."

"That's rather diabolical," he said.

And then he laughed heartily, presumably, at the idea. There was even a little … twinkle … in his eyes that told her he was truly amused. She wasn't sure she'd ever heard him laugh. If she had it was never like this. A full and pure laugh of amusement. For certain, she'd never seen that look in his eyes. At least not like this and she took some pride that she'd said something to garner such a reaction out of him.

"James has a favorite or two, too, that he latched onto and wants to be read to every night."

"I am coming to know this phenomenon." He was still amused, his tone teasing, but she sensed there was some sincerity in that statement. Children liked repetitiveness. It was how they learned so it stood to reason they'd want their favourite book read over and over.

"I imagine you are. I'll be right back then."

Hermione stood then and walked in the direction of the children's books, curious why his daughters got fussy when she left. They'd seemed fine until then. Happy even. She heard Professor Snape speaking to them in a very soft but obviously soothing voice. Calming. It seemed to work. Who knew that he could be like that? She'd always found his voice nice, but never stopped to think what he might be able to do with it.

And since when did Hermione think that she liked the sound of his voice? Making those soft, soothing sounds especially.

"Well, here are a few," she said, returning to the table after a few minutes.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome. May I ask their names?"

"Ivy Liana and Jasmin Aileen," he said, gesturing from the oldest to the youngest.

She stared at him for a moment, certain she'd heard wrong. Then realized she should say something in response to him providing her with their names.

"Those are lovely names," she said. "Deservingly so as they appear to be rather lovely themselves."

Could he sense her surprise? Even if he could, he certainly wouldn't understand it.

Her mum's name was Liana. It wasn't a very common name at all.

How … strange. What were the odds?

What would the professor think realizing his daughter had anything in common with her?

"Thank you," he murmured. "I admit, I'm going very by feel here."

He was thanking her? Not to mention his admitting he wasn't confident in what he was doing. In anything. She wasn't shocked that was the case, just that he'd said so. Aloud. To her. She'd think she was dreaming, but she didn't think running into Professor Snape and his daughters in the library was something she'd dream about.

"You're welcome, Sir. I'm here for a while I think, so if I can ever offer my woefully inadequate advice based on my exposure to James, Teddy, and Victoire. Well, let me know, I'm happy to help if I can."

"I will bear that in mind."

"And as I haven't actually seen you until now, belated Happy Birthday."

His eyes snapped to hers. He was obviously surprised. Could she help it that she remembered all sorts of things? This wizard's birthday happened to be one of the useless bits of information tucked away in her memory. It being so close to the holidays probably helped.

"Thank you," he said. "All right, Ivy and Jasmin, let's thank Miss Granger for the assistance and go back to our quarters."

"Mama," the youngest girl said, waving at Hermione with a look in her eye that made Hermione's heart clench. The poor thing.

"Apologies. I got caught up working on some potions so our evening has run longer than she - both really - is used to. It is way past their bedtime. Perhaps one more night of the same books wouldn't have been the worst thing to happen."

His words weren't unkind or anything, but there was something that told her he very much wished he hadn't come to the library tonight.

And seen her?

She didn't understand that at all. She was just sitting here researching. She thought their conversation had been cordial. She hadn't asked him a million questions about his daughters, or anything else for that matter. Not to say she wasn't incredibly curious. Never mind that he could likely answer the question Minerva had without her having to read through dozens of journals and memoirs on the wards over the years. (Not that she wasn't enjoying reading these things!) He'd been polite. He'd laughed! Did he regret doing that?

"It's no problem, Sir," she said. "I've seen James have some iconic meltdowns. They'll adjust, I'm sure."

She tilted her head a bit as she took her seat once again, watching as he picked Jasmin up. He brushed her still damp curls aside and seemed to whisper something in her ear. Ivy, seeming to take advantage of her father's attention being elsewhere, ran up to her and hugged her tight. "Good night," she whispered. Hermione didn't know what to say or do other than hug the girl back. It was totally unexpected.

"Come, Ivy, she is busy," Professor Snape said, extending his free hand to the girl. "We have truly bothered Miss Granger enough this evening." There was a subtle emphasis on her name that she wasn't sure what he meant by it. Ivy drew away, but she didn't seem to want to and Hermione really didn't know what to do.

"Good night, Miss Ivy. I hope you enjoy the books I picked out for you."

She made her way to her father then, grabbing his ring finger. A ring finger that Hermione couldn't help but notice was bare. Proof there was no Mrs. Snape. Well, unless he was one of those men who didn't wear one.

And then they left the library. She saw tears in the youngest girl's eyes as she peered at her over her dad's shoulder, waving to her with her hand.

How very odd. She never in a million years would have imagined her potions professor had such a side to him. She wouldn't have expected him to let her see such a side to him either.

And the mama thing. The poor things must be missing their mummy. Whoever she was. If Hermione ever met the woman she'd give her a piece of her mind. Not that Professor Snape was incapable, clearly he'd lasted two weeks without the woman's help. However, anyone who would leave their children as she'd obviously done. Well, Hermione would have a few choice words to say to her.

***

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid," he said, pacing the floor of his quarters. An activity he hadn't had occasion to do for five years! He'd presumed he'd never have reason to again with Voldemort truly taken care of.

His tirade was greeted with silence since there was no one else here to hear him rant.

"How in the hell would I know that she'd be in the library after eleven o'clock at night? On a Friday? Has she no life?"

Both girls were sleeping now. Severus, though, was in a snit. Even recognizing he was did nothing to lessen it. He himself should be exhausted after the past ninety minutes. 

"Doesn't she have a home to go to?"

"Doesn't she have a job?"

That was twice now Ivy and Jasmin had seen this universe's Hermione Granger. The first time, at lunch earlier in the week, they'd been somewhat easy to console. Jasmin was harder, though.

Understandably.

Ivy seemed to have somewhat of a grasp on the fact this Hermione was not the mum she knew. He had avoided bringing them with him to the Great Hall all week, not sure when or if the witch would be there on any given day. He didn't like entrusting so much of their every day care to Dabdey and Tibly. It was just what everyone would expect from him, to be essentially an absentee father, letting their mother and now elves raise them.

"What is she even doing here?"

She wasn't a staff member, he knew that. His connection to the castle as headmaster (in name only) allowed him to know when someone was staff, student, or visitor.

Tonight, though, that iconic meltdown Miss Granger spoke of earlier in the library the Potter boy having had.

He'd seen it live and in person. And in stereo! It had started with Jasmin, but eventually Ivy had joined in.

No amount of reading would soothe either girl. Jasmin was by far the most distraught, though. He imagined if she calmed down then Ivy would follow suit. He couldn't very well carry her through the halls crying as she was. She'd wake the students. Not to mention the ghosts!

So he'd paced the floor with her. He'd bounced her. He'd created bubbles and (Merlin help him) glitter with his wand, which both girls normally liked. It did nothing to actually go toward soothing them, though. Jasmin's sobs had turned into a hideous laughing sob that gutted him in a way he never would have believed possible. He talked to them. He even sang to them! (That had seemed to help for a moment. Only a moment.) All the while Jasmin sobbed uncontrollably, her little fist clenching and unclenching as she called out for her mama.

Finally, she fell asleep in his arms about the time he almost broke down and sent for Miss Granger. He didn't believe it was anything that he'd actually done. He was pretty sure she'd truly cried herself into such an exhausted state that her small body had no choice but to fall asleep.

For his part, he was sweaty everywhere her head touched: his neck, his arms, his face because her crying jag had made her so warm he was on the verge of getting concerned she was ill on top of being upset. His own tantrum didn't help with his sweatiness either.

Summoning Miss Granger to his quarters would have been a huge mistake, but he had run out of ideas. And, honestly, hearing her cries knowing he could in theory fix the problem tore at him in a way he didn't realize was possible.

Children were bothersome creatures.

He was not the sentimental, soothing, coddling type.

He was not a kind man.

And yet, all evidence this evening during what had been the worst crying fit he'd been witness to thus far in their two weeks here pointed to the fact he was the type.

For and with the right children.

Where in the hell had that come from?

Who knew?

Never during the hour long crying jag had he contemplated shaking, hitting, or spanking either of them. His instinct had been rather to soothe, comfort, and assure. He wanted to fix it for them. He just couldn't give them what they wanted. Ivy did seem to understand the witch they'd seen was not her mum, but she apparently fed off of Jasmin's anger. She'd fallen asleep on the sofa before Jasmin finally nodded off.

He found himself at the door to one of the spare bedrooms. Jasmin's room. Her nursery, for that was essentially what it was given her age.

He cast a silencing charm to ensure the door opening would not wake her and stood in the doorway, looking at her. He didn't dare go any closer in the event he woke her. Listening to her soft breaths and the little coos she made assured him she was all right. There were a few sobs mixed in there, too, so even in sleep she was upset.

He closed the door again, moving to check on Ivy, wondering what he would do now if the other universe's Miss Granger returned for them. He'd carried her from the sofa to her bed so he imagined there was a chance she'd wake up. She was sleeping soundly, clutching a stuffed penguin he'd bought her at a muggle store he'd gone to earlier in the week for some snacks to keep on hand for her. Her Pokey was there, too. Jasmin's Peter was in her crib with her (and a stuffed duck Severus had bought at the same time as the penguin), but while she liked having them in the crib with her she didn't seem to snuggle with them as Ivy did.

He'd done it. They were sleeping, dreaming about who knew what.

Hopefully not what an incompetent arse this person was their mum had brought them to.

He had no doubt there would be other crying jags. Other tantrums. Probably more severe than this one had been. Regardless, he'd made it through it as had they. Knowing they were sleeping after all of that was an indication they felt … safe here. Wasn't it? They knew he'd keep them safe. That he would take care of them and not hurt them, even through a fit.

Two weeks into this, he was no longer certain that he wanted their mother to return.

That was not good.

Not good at all.

It had taken him nearly twenty years to come to terms with his … relationship with Lily Potter nee Evans. A relationship that he realized now was not one, except in his head. He'd convinced himself … Well, all sorts of things that just hadn't been.

It had been a bit … humbling.

Not only had he failed to see how following Voldemort could turn into exactly what it had but he'd failed to realize the witch he supposedly did it all for he hadn't even truly been in love with.

He'd been in love with an idea.

He'd been in love with the first and only person who'd shown him a thread of kindness, taking it as a sign she was to be his.

He knew the truth now.

And he had to admit that he couldn't decide what he was more embarrassed about to this day.

That he'd allowed himself to be fooled by Voldemort?

Or that he allowed himself to believe he was in love with someone for twenty years who he was not in love with and was never his to begin with?

Obviously, intellectually, he knew that his being fooled by Voldemort should be what he was most ashamed of. And he was, but he thought of the years he didn't live. That he did nothing because of a dead witch who wasn't even his.

And now he had two witches that he was responsible for. He only had to look into their eyes to know that they did love him, even if Ivy in particular knew he wasn't that father. She loved and trusted him.

How would he be able to recover from this?

Did he even want to?

"Fuck," he whispered.

***

He avoided breakfast the next morning. It was a bad habit to get into. Contrary to popular belief, he rather liked joining the others in the Great Hall for meals. The morning meal was the most … beneficial.

His reasons were … selfish perhaps.

It gave him a way to gauge the moods of his students before they got to his class. Of course, today was Saturday so their moods today weren't truly a concern of his.

He could not risk Jasmin having a meltdown like last night's in front of others today, though. Or Ivy hugging Miss Granger again. Once in response to her giving them some books was explainable. More than that would be scrutinized. She wasn't a stupid witch. She'd notice Ivy didn't hug Pomona or Poppy eventually.

He made his way up the stairs that would lead him to the headmistress' office, knocking since he was able to get past the gargoyles. He shook his head at the sight of Hermione's familiar darting down them, brushing against his leg.

He only knew it was hers and not the other Hermione's because he'd just seen that (his now he supposed) feline in Jasmin's crib. He was sneaky but he wasn't quite so fast as to get from there to here this quickly. So he surmised it was this Hermione's.

And, well, there was something else to consider. What would she do if she saw both of them? Or the one brought with Ivy and Jasmin, and noticed something was different.

No sense worrying about things he hadn't encountered yet. He had enough on his mind as it was without worrying about her familiar.

Either of them!

"Come in," Minerva's voice came from the other side of the door once. She would know who it was most likely. Unless she'd summoned someone to meet her here.

He stepped over the threshold and she looked surprised but pleased to see him.

"Severus. What can I do for you this morning? We missed you at breakfast. Actually, we've missed you at quite a few meals recently."

"Ivy and, mostly, Jasmin seem to be in a bit of an adjustment period. I have not wanted to subject staff or students to her moodiness."

He tried to eat one meal a day in the Great Hall so Minerva couldn't get after him for his absence. He didn't like leaving the girls under an elf's care for overlong, no matter how good the two helping him currently were. He felt he was absent enough with his class and office hours schedule.

"She's a baby, Severus. Everyone understands…"

"How long is Miss Granger going to be here?" he asked, cutting her off as to what everyone understood. He still did not wish to be responsible for ruining others' meals. Or for them seeing Hermione Granger any more than was necessary.

And it was merely an excuse! He couldn't tell Minerva that, of course. He didn't want to subject them to seeing the witch they thought was their mum.

"I'm sorry?"

She looked confused and surprised at his direct question. He scoffed as he knew she heard him.

"You heard me."

"Why?"

"What do you mean ‘why'? I need to give reasons for my queries now?"

"Well, no, but I'm not sure I understand where it's coming from. Thus my question."

"She was in the library last night after curfew. Alone."

"Mm," Minerva said. The tone of the utterance and the glimmer in her eyes clearly said that she was amused. Fantastic. Just what he wanted: Minerva laughing at him.

Severus couldn't blame her, truthfully,  as it was a rather ridiculous thing to say.

"Well, she's no longer a student so not governed by curfew. Was she doing something wrong?"

"No," he said. Of course she wasn't doing anything wrong. "She was, as I said, alone."

"You have concerns about Miss Granger being in the library alone?"

His lips tightened. It was a pretty ridiculous thought. No, in truth, he didn't. If there was anyone who would treat the library with the respect it deserved it was her. He could think of no current student who would be a threat to her either. Who would dare go up against Hermione Granger? Her reputation rather preceded her. So from that standpoint, no he wasn't concerned.

"I should not have to wonder who's going to be where."

"She is working on an assignment for me, Severus."

His eyes narrowed at the witch and he scowled. "So, she will be here for…?"

"I do not know. However long her research takes her."

"Why does she not go home? Potter did."

"Harry went home to spend time caring for young Herman."

"Herman?" Who in the hell was that?

"Yes, Herman Arthur I'm told. His second son. You were aware Ginevra was pregnant again? Fitting, don't you think? The name, I mean."

"I suppose so," he murmured. Merlin. He'd named him after Hermione, hadn't he? Not completely unfathomable. She did rather save his hide a time or two. Or ten.

"I haven't seen him yet. He was just born last night. Hermione went this morning."

"Of course she did," he said with a scoff. Did that mean she was gone? For how long? Just the day? A few days? He couldn't ask, Minerva was already curious as to his question about her length of stay.

"You know I don't recall you taking any time off after Ivy or Jasmin's birth…"

"Why would I have?"

Her lips thinned again and she cast her gaze in the direction of Albus' portrait. Evidently, that was not a good answer. He couldn't tell her the truth! She'd know he was lying if he tried to claim he did otherwise. Albus, for his part, was quiet through this exchange. No doubt the portrait was listening, though, taking it all in.

"To help the mother, Severus."

"She had sufficient help."

"But not from her partner, Severus."

He scoffed again, crossing his arms over his chest. He knew what she was trying to do. She was not going to outsmart him.

"Quit trying to gain information from me, Headmistress."

"Fine," she said with a huff. "You cannot continue avoiding the Great Hall, Severus. It doesn't look right if I let you miss the majority of meals for days on end."

"Fine. We will be there for lunch."

"Excellent."

That should work, shouldn't it? If Miss Granger was visiting Potter's new baby she wouldn't be in the Great Hall. She'd be there for a while, wouldn't she? He had no idea what decorum called for in such instances. He was going to assume being best friends she would stay more than just a quick visit. That meant the odds of Ivy and Jasmin getting upset at the fact that their mother was essentially ignoring them were pretty slim.

He would really like to avoid another episode like last night if he could for the foreseeable future.

And just what assignment was she working on? Didn't she have an actual job with the Ministry saving the lives of beings (the majority of whom likely didn't want saving or know that they had anything to be saved from)?

"Is there anything else then, Severus?"

"No," he said, knowing he was pouting somewhat at the fact he did not get an answer to his actual question.

Just how long was Granger - he really needed to stop thinking of her in his head as Hermione - going to be here? Not knowing what the assignment was he had no way to gauge such a thing. And if Minerva was no longer going to let him be absent from meals what was he to do? He refused to leave the girls in his quarters when they were invited to the Great Hall.

Fuck.

She was not at lunch as expected. And both girls behaved as they usually did at meal time. Ivy was self-sufficient and able to feed herself mostly. He did have to ensure things were cut into smaller pieces. He was getting better at feeding Jasmin and keeping it in her mouth. She did not seem to care for today's carrots, however, so some of those ended up on her lower lip in a slimy mess that made him scowl. (Tasting them himself he realized the glaze was more lemony than normal and likely the reason for her dissatisfaction.)

And her laugh as he wiped her face.

She was, however, at dinner.

He paused, tempted to turn and go back to his rooms. However, Minerva would notice and scold him. He didn't need that right now. Before the girls arrived he hoped at least three or four times a week she'd sack him.

He couldn't risk that now, though. What if their mother returned and he was nowhere to be found? So that rather meant he was stuck here for the foreseeable future. He couldn't very well leave a message with anyone on the off chance she returned.

He decided instead for a different tactic, claiming the empty seats next to Miss Granger and moving Jasmin's high chair to the spot in between himself and the witch. Ivy sat on the other side of him.

"Hello, Professor," she said, clearly surprised at this turn of events in her dining companions. Judging by the looks of others, staff and students alike, she wasn't the only one. He supposed it was a surprising change from his usual behaviour. That being trying to avoid sitting near anyone else if at all possible.

"Miss Granger," he said.

"How are you today, Miss Jasmin?" she asked. "And Miss Ivy. Hello."

This was exactly what Severus assumed she'd do and hoped that some interaction would be good enough to stave off the fit that would have come if Jasmin caught a glimpse of this Granger with no contact.

She smiled as Severus worked on preparing Jasmin's plate. He was still learning what she did and didn't like so it was an odd assortment of items. Ivy was a bit easier, though, he did still have to watch the size of the bites she took.

"Oh my, she knows just how to get someone on her side, doesn't she?" Granger said as Jasmin was bestowing a radiant smile on the witch.

"Mm, that smile? Yes," he said with a confirming nod of his head while he cut up and mashed the items he chose for her. It was that smile, showing off her four front teeth that had aided in melting his heart initially.

Drool not withstanding.

"Did she like the books?"

"We did not get to them, but I will let you know when we do."

"Fell asleep without them?"

"Something like that," he replied, knowing it was an evasive answer. "I understand you are an honourary aunt again."

"Oh, yes," she said, surprise evident in her eyes. Darned Gryffindors. "Herman Arthur came yesterday. He seems healthy and is quite cute. Harry and Ginny are over the moon, of course."

"Of course."

"Just think, Jasmin will be a year behind James and ahead of Herman."

He had, in fact, not taken the time to think on that yet. He wasn't even sure she'd be here in ten years.

"I suppose you are right."

He still wasn't sure if he was hoping either of them would be or not, and wasn't sure what it said that he was leaning toward hoping they would be.

"Did you find what you were looking for last night?"

"Not yet," she said.

"Do you know what you're looking for?"

"Not exactly," she said. "I suspect I'll know when I find it."

"One of those things then?"

"Yes," she said with a nod.

His plan seemed to be working. Miss Granger spoke to Ivy and Jasmin enough that the children seemed content with the interaction and no fit ensued when it was time to leave the table.

"Would you mind if I claimed these seats again at breakfast?" he asked when they stood to leave.

"Not at all," she said. She offered him a smile. "I think I might go see Herman again this evening, but I'll be back tonight for more research."

"Don't want to make Mrs. Potter believe she has to feed you?"

"Exactly," she said with a laugh. She seemed surprised he would know that.

"We shall see you then. Have a good evening."

"You, too, Professor. Where do they go when you're in classes?"

"There are two elves who alternate giving them care."

"Oh, right," she said with a knowing nod.

"They seem to like them."

She reached in then, brushing an unruly curl away from Jasmin's face. The gesture was so … automatic. For her. He was still learning how to do such things.

"What's not to like, right Jasmin? And you, too, Ivy. See you later then, Sir," she said, dropping her hand and heading out of the Great Hall.

Jasmin didn't seem to like that very well and got a bit fussy but it wasn't a full blown jag as last night had been so he considered this a win. She did wave her hand at Miss Granger's back and call out "Mama" but that was as far as it went. Ivy wasn't too happy about her mum leaving either.

She turned to look at them, looking curious. Had she heard Jasmin? That would have been the second time she would have heard Jasmin address her as Mama. Would she suspect?

He scoffed at that, realizing the very idea was absolutely ridiculous. Absurd. Suspect that Ivy and Jasmin were the product of them from an alternate universe? He chose instead to focus on the fact that Jasmin hadn't had a tantrum. Ivy had seemed to enjoy talking with her mum. This version of her mum anyway. Perhaps his idea was a good one after all.

He'd have to see at breakfast tomorrow. And as more time went by how they accepted these little bits of interaction. Likely they were both used to hugs, affection, touches, laughs, and things like baths and games with their mum.

He really wished she'd written more in her letter.

Yes, he could see the irony in his wishing Hermione Granger had been more wordy! Then it wouldn't have really mattered, would it?

This was a different Hermione Granger and yet in her letter she'd implied that despite his initial issue with her age they had come to care for - love she'd said - one another. A second child with four years separating them certainly implied that was true.

Was that significant?

Did that imply that he would be … happy with the witch? This witch in his world? He'd never stopped to think about her in such a way. He had no idea why as she was intelligent, attractive, and capable. Other than, well, he imagined her age would be an obstacle. Not that he thought she was too young, but that she would likely find him too old. Among other things, his thoughts going to his neck in particular.

Would she? She'd never treated him as if his age bothered her. She hadn't looked at him the other night in the library as if his scars bothered or mattered to her.

He huffed, realizing it was time to get on with his evening, not fret over Hermione Granger and whether he'd be happy pursuing her romantically.

Or why that idea wasn't as abhorrent to him as he thought it should be.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com