Package for Miss Finnigan, c/o Charlotte and Seamus Finnigan

[subtle_simmer]

Date: Friday, 8 February
Time: Evening after classes
Location Finnigan's Pub
Characters Involved: Severus Snape, Charlotte Finnigan, Constance Finnigan, Seamus Finnigan if Fuji wants.
Rating: X - because Snape being remotely 'fluffy' is absolutely revolting.

Comments

[subtle_simmer]

To his utter horror, the child was presented to him as easily as though she were passing a quaffle. His eyes were wide with unconcealed panic as he tried to make certain he was guarding the baby's neck as directed. He'd remembered Narcissa always saying that with Draco, too. 'Mind his head...'.

It really wasn't quite so bad. Her head settled easily in the bend of his elbow, cradled against his chest. Her entire body was so tiny that her nappy-covered bum easily rested in the palm of his hand, leaving her plump legs free room to kick and wriggle while his index finger of his other hand was still firmly captured in the firm grasp of one of hers. She was very warm and very soft and very wriggly. She smelled sweet, like a mixture of talcum powder and baby-cleansers and just a hint of not-quite-sour milk.

Severus swallowed hard, again, and tried not to make any sudden movements. She frowned a bit and made a grumpy sort of mewling noise. Almost instinctively, he started to turn his torso side-to-side ever so slightly, as though to rock her and calm her distress.

"Hello, Constance," he said again, his voice soft and low. "One day, I will be your professor."

He felt a little ridiculous trying to speak to a weeks-old infant, but he wasn't about to start singing.

[safinnigan]

Seamus watched with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as Charlotte completely disarmed and dominated the surly Professor with the use of one small bundle of Finnigan joy. He was too amused break up the happy baby scene Charlotte was scripting right in front of him. He could not have arranged it better if he’d been a stage manager in the West End.

“Aye, then, Stan luv. Be after treating the Professor with respect now, babe o’ mine. He’ll be able to get his own back ‘fore long.” He laughed and came over to stand beside his wife, a languid arm ‘round her shoulders in thanks for providing him with a priceless view of his Potions Professor. It was worth every stinky diaper and every nighttime rock or walk ‘round the apartment with the sleepless miss to see Professor Sererus Snape reduced to speaking most kindly to his babe.

Yes, a camera would have been more than welcome, but Seamus doubted he’d forget this homey scene any time soon.

[subtle_simmer]

'Stan'? Severus' brow furrowed in annoyance. Give a child a perfectly sound name such as 'Constance', and then shorten it to 'Stan'? Why not 'Connie', which at least sounded feminine if one was going to have to abbreviate a name!

Of course, his tendency was toward such rigid formality that the use of given names was only permitted with precise invitation and even then only among very familiar acquaintance. Severus never shortened anyone's name (much to Ginevra Weasley's irritation).

Still, it was none of his business. The child would grow up to be 'Miss Finnigan' to him, anyway.

He settled further into the chair, though one could not remotely call him 'relaxed'. It was impossible not to be fearful that the infant would make a sudden move and somehow injure herself. How could something so tiny not be infinitely fragile? But she was not crying or making other signs of immediate distress. She seemed highly fascinated by his nose!

The truth, of course, was that most young babies are fascinated by faces, in general, and new faces draw their attention as being something unique to look at, but Severus could not have possibly known this. He only knew that that particular landmark of his visage had drawn lots of attention from many quarters throughout his life. At least her fascination was completely innocent as she stared and stared at his face.

He drew his own gaze reluctantly from his own embarrassingly awestruck fascination with her in return, to glance up at the parents watching him with their own degrees of amusement.

"You may as well open it," he said moodily, almost certain he could hear Finnigan's thoughts.

'Ha, ha', the boy would be thinking, 'Look at greasy old Snape making nice with the baby.'

He tilted his head in the direction of the blanket-bundled package. "That way, if you have questions on the potions directions, I will be able to answer them while I am here."

Satisfied he had at least tried to redirect their attention away from staring at him, he returned his own attention to the wriggling infant cradled against his chest.

"You must be certain to do your Potions homework, Miss Finnigan," he said in that soft, almost sing-song voice. "Otherwise, I am afraid we will have words. I am quite severe about such things."

A tiny hand, waving randomly through the air, bumped against his nose and then grasped it with the same tight little grip that still held one of his fingers. The baby smiled and cooed at this surprising development. Severus chuckled in spite of himself, even as he pulled his head back enough to free his nose from the eye-watering grasp.

"That is attached and I would prefer it stay that way."

[safinnigan]

Old habits die hard and Seamus nearly jumped to obey his Old Professor and open the thoughtful gifts he’d brought for their new daughter. Besides, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on that little stuffed bunny ! He couldn’t wait to show it to Dean. No one in the Gryffindor Common Room would have ever believed Snape capable of buying a bunny rabbit!

“Aye, Professor, sir!” He picked up the package and gave the bunny a squeeze - just to see if there was any kind of noise maker inside - not that bunnies made noise. He laughed as he opened the envelope containing the potions instructions and then he immediately handed it off to Char. “Aye, Professor, no use tryin’ to be after suggestin’ to you that this Seamus would be able with Potions. ‘Twill be best, no doubt you’d agree, if we left the Potions in Char’s own capable hands then.” He laughed again, not at all shy about making fun of his own Potions incompetence in the presence of his Professor and business partner. Snape knew better than most just how deep that incompetence ran. He had no idea how Char was with Potions, but he assumed she’d be the best Finnigan for the job in this household.

“We’ve been lucky with this lot so far,” he said, gesturing to the baby as he deftly folded up the blankets and placed the bunny on top of them so his little one could see it. “She’s been naught but a joy to our house then so far. She might sleep a bit more in the night time, but then she’d miss seein’ her bartendin’ Da.” He smiled broadly at his daughter when she grabbed on to Snape’s nose.

“Watch out for that one then, Professor, sir. She’s got an eye for the men now, that one does!” He laughed heartily. It was a joke while she was still in diapers that he would find hard to stomach once she was out of them…

[beautesolitaire]

Charlotte chuckled she settled down with her husband to look through the contents of the basket. Her husband would not be after stealing the baby's bunny to be bragging off to his silly friends. That was Stan's bunny, not Seamus'.

The baby's demeanor very quickly changed to one of those faces that looked like it out to have a scream attached to it and just a grumpy squeak came out. Charlotte looked up from the contents of the basket, "She probably needs to be burped." she advised the professor, "If you just rub 'er back lightly, she will get it out."

When said burping was commenced, Constance Aurelius marked yet another male in the world with spit up. First she'd accosted his nose, then she'd spit up on his shoulder. Well it was official, she liked the dark looking man. She didn't know who he was, but that was okay, she liked him anyways. Babies liked everyone. Constance Aurelius-Finnigan was no different. Once said spit up was done, her feet kicked all impatiently, first one then the other up and down.

Charlotte just covered the smile, knowing that that would not be a good thing to do with Professor Snape, that would be like laughing at a cobra before it bit you in the face. She got up to go fetch a spit up rag and a cleaning charm.

[subtle_simmer]

Severus chuckled his own agreement of Seamus' potions expertise in spite of himself. At least the young man was honest about his ability or lack thereof. He might have responded with something appropriately appalled and prudish when Seamus teased about the infant having 'an eye for the men'. 'One might hope she will avoid such things for a few years yet,' was on the tip of his tongue.

But then the child made a face. A screwed-up, grumpy, 'I'm about to scream, and loudly' sort of face that he distinctly remembered from Draco's infancy. There was only one cure for that sort of expression, and that was to return the creature to its mother with all possible alacrity.

Unfortunately, this creature's mother was simply telling him what to do!

What the ruddy fuck did he know about 'burping' babies?

He stared at Mrs Finnigan, absolutely aghast, for just a moment. But the infant began to whine and he knew he would not be able to stomach the shrill shrieking that was sure to follow, so he obeyed the directions as well as he could. Shifting her carefully from the crook of his arm to lying against his chest, he supported her head on his shoulder while he patted her back awkwardly.

Talk about Squid out of water!

It did seem to help, though. She quit whimpering and curled against his chest, molding her tiny body to his, one little fist finding a handful of his hair in the process.

And then there was the very unpleasant wet 'urp' sound, followed immediately by the rank odour of very, very sour 'milk'.

Which immediately shifted Severus' brain to over-drive. Babies do not drink 'milk', but formula . . . or breastmilk. The idea that the child had possibly just up-chucked bodily fluid produced by Mrs Finnigan onto his teaching robes was absolutely the end of his ability to play the baby game.

He shot to his feet so quickly one would have thought there had been a spring beneath his arse. When Mrs Finnigan approached him with rag and wand, he held out the infant, still carefully cradled easily in his two large hands, but well away from his own body.

Enough was enough.

"Thank you, no," he said, refusing her offer of the cleaning charm. "I can manage well enough on my own. I must be returning to the school. Clearly she needs her mother and I must be on my way."