(no subject)
Title: Furry, a follow-on to Swallowed
Pairing: Severus/Kingsley, and also ...?
Rating: 12, not graphic.
Warning: MPREG (male pregnancy), implied SLASH (gayness). Please do not read if you don't like that sort of thing.
Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to J K Rowling, not me. I am borrowing for love, not money, with no disrespect intended.
Kingsley was sure that no condemned wizard had ever felt so afraid on his final walk to the Kissing Chamber. The corridors of St Mungo’s were bright and cheerful, but it required huge amounts of his strength and determination to walk through the door of the neo-natal unit instead of hitching up his robes and running for the entrance as every ounce of common sense was suggesting.
Crossing the threshold, he was barged aside by someone leaving. The other men’s head was bent and his face obscured by the handkerchief muffling his sobs, but Kingsley was certain he recognised Lupin. Knowing that further delay would only weaken his resolve, he resisted the urge to comfort his friend over whatever had distressed him and returned his attention to the task in hand.
Kingsley closed the door behind himself and cleared his throat.
“What do you want?” sneered Snape, looking tired but also overwhelmingly smug.
None of his rehearsed speeches seemed appropriate once Kingsley caught a glimpse of the small lump of blankets in the square goldfish bowl next to Snape’s bed. Running his tongue over suddenly dry lips, he edged forward and peered at the object inside.
“Your baby’s got brown skin,” he told Snape. Eventually. Once he regained the power of speech.
“Reassuring to see that all the taxpayers’ money spent on honing your observation skills has been good for something,” Snape sipped his cup of tea disdainfully. “But I fail to see that the brownness or otherwise of my daughter is any business of yours.”
Kingsley looked up sharply and easily matched the flinty glare being directed at him.
“Actually,” he replied firmly. “I believe it is very much my business.”
A prolonged staring match of blistering intensity ensued.
After five minutes, Snape sighed and decided he had passed The Test, nodding once.
“Well then,” he said carelessly. “I suppose you can touch her if you want.”
With gleeful trepidation, Kingsley lifted the tiny creature and held her against his chest, positively radiating with emotion. Pride and exhilaration were the main players, though disbelief and panic put in an appearance too. Snape tutted and feigned sleep while the auror gazed adoringly at their baby, utterly absorbed in the most wonderful and touching moment.
Presently, something occurred to Kingsley.
“Severus, what’s wrong with Lupin?” he asked softly, wary of startling the child.
“Where would you like me to start?” he replied flatly, without opening his eyes.
“No, I mean, why was he crying when I saw him just now?”
“Oh, er, he…support her head, cretin!”
“I am! And don’t change the subject.”
“Hmph!”
“Well?”
“He…” Snape examined his fingernails. “He was rather taken aback by the baby’s appearance when he visited.”
“In what way?” asked Kingsley, warily.
“He expected her to be…different,” despite his earlier spirit, the former spy was exhausted and obviously not on top, slippery, deceitful form. He required only minimal prodding to reveal the secret.
“In what way?” Kingsley demanded.
“He had hoped that she would be more…” Snape became fascinated with the hem of his hospital blanket. “…furry.”
Kingsley gaped.
…….
Pairing: Severus/Kingsley, and also ...?
Rating: 12, not graphic.
Warning: MPREG (male pregnancy), implied SLASH (gayness). Please do not read if you don't like that sort of thing.
Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to J K Rowling, not me. I am borrowing for love, not money, with no disrespect intended.
Kingsley was sure that no condemned wizard had ever felt so afraid on his final walk to the Kissing Chamber. The corridors of St Mungo’s were bright and cheerful, but it required huge amounts of his strength and determination to walk through the door of the neo-natal unit instead of hitching up his robes and running for the entrance as every ounce of common sense was suggesting.
Crossing the threshold, he was barged aside by someone leaving. The other men’s head was bent and his face obscured by the handkerchief muffling his sobs, but Kingsley was certain he recognised Lupin. Knowing that further delay would only weaken his resolve, he resisted the urge to comfort his friend over whatever had distressed him and returned his attention to the task in hand.
Kingsley closed the door behind himself and cleared his throat.
“What do you want?” sneered Snape, looking tired but also overwhelmingly smug.
None of his rehearsed speeches seemed appropriate once Kingsley caught a glimpse of the small lump of blankets in the square goldfish bowl next to Snape’s bed. Running his tongue over suddenly dry lips, he edged forward and peered at the object inside.
“Your baby’s got brown skin,” he told Snape. Eventually. Once he regained the power of speech.
“Reassuring to see that all the taxpayers’ money spent on honing your observation skills has been good for something,” Snape sipped his cup of tea disdainfully. “But I fail to see that the brownness or otherwise of my daughter is any business of yours.”
Kingsley looked up sharply and easily matched the flinty glare being directed at him.
“Actually,” he replied firmly. “I believe it is very much my business.”
A prolonged staring match of blistering intensity ensued.
After five minutes, Snape sighed and decided he had passed The Test, nodding once.
“Well then,” he said carelessly. “I suppose you can touch her if you want.”
With gleeful trepidation, Kingsley lifted the tiny creature and held her against his chest, positively radiating with emotion. Pride and exhilaration were the main players, though disbelief and panic put in an appearance too. Snape tutted and feigned sleep while the auror gazed adoringly at their baby, utterly absorbed in the most wonderful and touching moment.
Presently, something occurred to Kingsley.
“Severus, what’s wrong with Lupin?” he asked softly, wary of startling the child.
“Where would you like me to start?” he replied flatly, without opening his eyes.
“No, I mean, why was he crying when I saw him just now?”
“Oh, er, he…support her head, cretin!”
“I am! And don’t change the subject.”
“Hmph!”
“Well?”
“He…” Snape examined his fingernails. “He was rather taken aback by the baby’s appearance when he visited.”
“In what way?” asked Kingsley, warily.
“He expected her to be…different,” despite his earlier spirit, the former spy was exhausted and obviously not on top, slippery, deceitful form. He required only minimal prodding to reveal the secret.
“In what way?” Kingsley demanded.
“He had hoped that she would be more…” Snape became fascinated with the hem of his hospital blanket. “…furry.”
Kingsley gaped.
…….