Chapter Text
The day they placed Rose Eileen into Hermione’s arms for the first time she knew she had made the right choice to have her. That she was making the right choice not to give her up. It wasn't going to be an easy life, but it would be theirs. Hermione was barely nineteen years old the day Rose was born, and the little girl’s father was not there. He was likely hiding away from life in a bottle, no that was being unkind, he was never much of a drinker. He was likely working.
Severus Tobias Snape was the name she wrote in her clean penmanship on the birth certificate where it for the name of the father. The mediwitch was shocked when she wrote that. The woman dared to ask her ”are you sure?”
Hermione snarled at her, ”of course I am sure, I know the father of my child, and stop acting like it's such a shock. He's not that horrid you know, he can be kind when he wants to be…” she trailed off thinking about what led her here, as a single mother, with the daughter of her former professor. A man who should of never of been someone she considered as someone to sleep with.
Hermione signed her own name on the form and told the woman ”out with you, I just gave birth the last thing I need is your staring at me like I am some sort of zoo animal!”
She then realized it might be best to keep quiet in the close-knit wizarding world about who Rose’s father was. She did want the child to have a piece of her father, the man insisted he would help monetarily care for her, but she would not have his last name. He didn't think it would bring the little girl any good in her life. That the last thing she needed to be was labeled the daughter of a death eater.
So her middle name was Eileen after his mother, Hermione was going to make sure the little girl knew where she came from. She would not do to pretend that her father was someone else to the child. Very few people knew about Severus’s mother and fewer knew her first name. But when she could understand, Rose would.
And with time, Hermione hoped that Severus would ease up on his policy of ”I am only going to cause her pain, find some man to marry who knows how to be a father.”
He was a mentally unstable moron if you asked Hermione. His daughter needed him. She wasn't a student, she wasn't someone else’s child, and beyond that, for all his harsh words he never once laid his hands on his students. Not even when Harry took a peek as his memories. She knew in her heart of hearts, Severus was not Tobias. He would never lay a finger on Rose.
Give her a verbal thrashing, maybe. But, Hermione doubted he was capable of doing that to his own child. And if he did continue to hurt Rose even verbally, and if they ever set up visitation and he did her hurt Rose, she would put a stop to the visits at once. Though she doubted it would ever come to that.
It was a long story of how she became pregnant with Severus’s child. There was a breakup with Ron, a ministry party, and enough fire whiskey to nearly drown a horse. Neither of them remembered much of it. Bits and pieces. His fingers gripping her side, the way he felt inside of her, and realizing his hair was actually soft and shiny not the least bit greasy.
She woke up in his bed, in his small flat, left him a note on his pillow and bolted from the room. It was just a stupid mistake, a one night stand they would never speak of again, until it wasn't.
Hermione held Rose Eileen tightly in her arms, she kissed her daughter’s soft black curls. Her eyes were an extremely dark blue, although they were likely going to be brown like her mother’s or black like her father’s. Hermione with all that has happened and knowing there was no future between her and Severus Snape, beyond trying to raise their daughter, she would still go home with him that night if she knew what was going to happen. She hoped he would grow to see a child needed both of their parents.
Rose was worth it, and she hoped one day Severus will see that too.
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Another family was breaking apart down the hall in their own little way, Astoria Malfoy was dying as she brings her son into the world. And not one bit of magic could save her. Not even the magic of muggle medicine. She thinks to herself as she gets a glimpse of her son, and hopes someone is the mother to him I cannot be. She begged Draco to let someone else into his heart and love their son.
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Rose’s cries woke Hermione up a few nights later. They said they couldn't release her for a few days, the baby doesn't settle, so she breaks the rules and goes for a walk. She shouldn't be walking, but the room feels like it's closing in on her. She rarely ever sleeps and never with the door shut, but the lights of the hall keep her awake.
Her socked feet pad on the tile floor. Draco Malfoy, of all people, was sitting in an armchair outside of a room. His hair is greasy, his eyes are bloodshot, his hands shake. He looked more like a ghost than a man. He whispers to the newborn, ”I can't do this, I shouldn't have to do this alone,” he started crying now. He reminded her so much of how he looked that day at the manor. The desperation cutting lines he should not have into his face.
A mediwitch stood next to him. She said softly, ”we can take care of your son, Mr. Malfoy if you need us to give you the time to process things…”
He cut her off with a snarl and an angry red face, ”you are not taking him! He's my son! He's all I have left of her. She died for him because you couldn't do your fucking jobs!”
She said to him, ”Mr Malfoy, there was nothing we could do for your wife. She asked us to save your son if we had to choose.”
He stood up towered over her, he seems to reach for his wand and decided against it. ”And I told you to save her! We could have another child! We could adopt one! She was on Merlin knows what potions, and you thought she was capable of making that choice for herself?”
The woman said softly to him, ”your wife told us that months ago when we gave her the news and what she was risking with carrying the pregnancy to term.”
He shut his eyes and fell back into the chair, ”and you should have consulted me as well, it wasn't just her choice to make.” He ignored the mediwitch now, and everyone but the newborn in his arms, Hermione is sure he doesn't even notice her. Draco whispered ”I should give him to someone who can raise him properly, to a couple who can love him properly. But, I can't, he's the last piece of her I have. The last piece of her that's alive.”
He turned to Hermione then finally noticing her, Rose is letting out her own quiet noises, seems she didn't like that they have stopped moving. He said to her ”Granger, what are you doing here?”
She struggled to find words to say and spit out ”the wardens think I need to stay here for a few more days, they aren't big on releasing unwed mothers to their own devices.”
He said, ”they aren't big on thinking single fathers can take care of their children, either. I wouldn't be on if they would have saved her…”
She said to him something she never expected to say, ”well I have been struggling to sleep, and since neither Rose or your son will settle, let’s be good little patients and go back to my room. Sometimes sharing a crib can help babies sleep. He's been through a lot the last few days, and I am sorry for your loss, and the sofa bed they insisted should be for my baby’s father when he comes is still in there. We both need some sleep, and maybe we can convince them to let us escape tomorrow. If not I did once break out of a bank on the back of a dragon, and surely a hospital can't be that hard”.
Instead of mocking her he followed her back to her room. And they both start to try to figure out what life can be.
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Hermione’s hands were shoved in the soapy water, she could do this with magic, but in her opinion, it didn't get them as clean. Scorpius had issues with his immune system, among other things. The way to avoid him getting sick was to keep things he was going to eat off of, or put in his mouth clean. They also had to prevent him from interacting with things that could cause bacteria or viruses to get inside of him. He couldn't get vaccines either.
The best protection for him was exactly what she was doing, and also just using good sense. But, the wizarding world wasn't one for good sense as she had learned over the years. Astoria gave her life for her son. Not only was he born a month early, but he also had other minor and moderate health issues. Asthma, chronic respiratory infections, low muscle tone, he walked and talked later than most. His mind, however, was sharp as a whip.
Hermione and Draco did not plan to get together. Hell, they barely liked each other before that night in the hospital hallway. She, however, was a fixer, and Draco needed fixing. He needed someone to put up with the screaming, the crying, the nightmares. To help him take Scorpius to his healer appointments and so on.
It wasn't like a quick rush, it wasn't like a fire, it wasn't a flame under their skin. It was slower, steadier, they kissed on the children’s second Christmas. Rose took it upon herself to be Scorpius’s protector. She was only a few hours older than him but she clearly was the older sister. After that kiss though, which made no difference to the children, because they knew no different. But after the kiss, they were married in six weeks.
Ginny thought she was crazy. Crazy for how she and Draco had become, and nuts for marrying him. Ron hadn’t spoken to her since she told him she was pregnant with Rose, and who her father was. Harry said that he was not shocked and he had been prepared for years for just this. She was grateful for that, grateful that he didn’t judge or blame her.
Today was the first of the month, like he had every first of the month since Hermione came home with Rose, Severus would drop off the galleons they had decided on for child support. When she married Draco, she said at one point that it was no longer needed. And Snape went off on her. Not yelling or screaming, but his harsh tone struck her like a knife and taught her he did care for the child he had only seen out of the corner of his eye in passing and only in public places.
“She’s my child Hermione! I know she’s got a mother and a father, but allow me this. Let me this for my child, it helps me sleep at night. I shouldn’t raise her, but never think I do not love her. Never!”
And with that he was gone long cloak billowing in the wind, black hair hanging around him. He left her clutching the envelope with the galleons.
She shouted into the wind at no one that day, “if you love her so damn much than come and I don’t know stupid idiot, spend time with her! She needs her father. Her real father! She looks like you, she acts like you, hell sometimes she sounds like you! I don’t want anything from you Snape, but she needs you!”
Her neighbors must think she was crazy, it had been three years ago that she had done that. And still she never said her true thoughts to him. She drained the sink, rinsed off her hands, and dried them. Now that Rose had gotten older Draco tended to take the children out on this day if it wasn’t a school day. Snape wouldn’t even let Hermione tell him how their daughter was doing if she was around. He shoved the envelope in her hand and bolted.
He did seem to enjoy hearing about Rose, about her interest in potion’s, her accidental magic, her likes her dislikes, and the trouble she got into. Hermione hoped that one day these stories would convince him to truly meet his child.
Rose was as stubborn as a mule though and in Hermione’s opinion she got it from her father. She was going to slowly wave the carrot in his face of who she is, his daughter. She shouldn’t, but it was not in her opinion, a lack of desire to have Rose in his life, it was a belief he would bring no good to her life and that he would hurt her.
And therefore he needed therapy, to work through those issues, and she heard a few months ago after much pressure from Minerva he was finally getting it. He no longer worked for the woman, he ran a small potion’s shop. In Diagon Alley. Sometimes when she walked past it with Rose she considered walking in there pretending as if she did not realize it was his and pretending like she needed to purchase something.
As if to dare him to pretend with Rose right there in front of him that he was not her father. Her hair was as black as night, curly though, her skin pale, just stepping for a few minutes in the sun could turn her red on the hottest of days. Her eyes though they gave who her father was away. Her eyes were not brown, not even dark brown, they were black, coal-black. The same as her father, her grandmother and every Prince before them.
Hermione dared not to hide who Rose’s father was from others because just looking at the child gave it away. And even if that did not, the moment she stepped into Hogwarts that everyone would know. They would announce her name, the name it should be, in the eyes of wizarding law that is, Rose Eileen Snape.
The little girl deserved to know who the man was who her dad was before that day. No, it should not be up to history books filled with lies to tell you who your father was. Rose had started to walk up to strange men, magical and muggle some were kind, some told Hermione to keep a better hand on her child, and others creeped Hermione out.
She had to talk to Severus today and get him to see reason. Rose was getting too old to lie to. Hindsight was twenty-twenty they should have dealt with this before she could; talk before she could walk, before she understood Draco was not her biological father, and she was not a Malfoy.
Even if time turners still existed this was not something they could be used on. She needed to put on her big panties and speak to the father of her daughter and try to get through to him, just like Minerva had been.
The loud knock on the door echoed throughout the small cottage. Hermione reached to tie back her hair, and forgets it, Snape of all people doesn’t care what she looks like. It was October first, a Saturday. She counted back from twenty and then walked to the door, unlocking it, she was faced with Snape who dropped his half raised hand, he was preparing to knock again.
Hermione took him. His long black wool cloak. His black shirt, buttoned up to the throat, likely to hide the scars from the snake bite that nearly took his life. Black slacks that showed off he was really as thin as his narrow potion stained fingers suggested. Hi pale skin was the same as Rose’s though hers was far healthier. His hair was unfashionable long, to his shoulders, shiny and limp. He recently had been brewing, she was sure of it. His eyes though we're sharp and intelligent. She was twenty-five now, a grown woman, a mother, a wife, an unspeakable, and yet his height and presence made her feel if not like a schoolgirl again. She had a child with the man, she knew more about him than most people alive today, and yet he still made her feel small.
She didn't think he even meant to, it was just the way Severus Snape carried himself. As if he was waiting for the next person to raise their wands to him with a curse or hex on their lips, or more likely where the next attack would come from. He embodied the statement of constant vigilance if anyone had ever done so. Even more than Moody himself, who had been the one to say it.
Her daughter may have inherited his height, his hair color, his eye color, and skin tone from him but Hermione promised herself she would not inherit his view of the world. That you were the dog being kicked or the one doing the kicking.
”Hermione”, he said softly as he cleared his throat. “How is she doing?”
Hermione wanted to scream he couldn’t bear to even say her name. She snarled, “she has a name you know.”
He cringed at her statement and said ”I do, but it's better this way…”
Hermione got in his face, she had to be on her toes for this and she's on the top step and he's not, she's tired of his self-loathing bullshit, when he's clearly just as desperate to know about her as she was him, “better for who?”
Severus recoiled from her as if she had turned into the snake who tried to rip out his throat. “Better for her, better not to be the daughter of a death eater”.
Hermione placed her hands on her hips, “ I think it's better for you, Severus, you're a coward ”.
He bends down inches from her face ”you of all people, have no right to call me a coward?”
Hermione laughs mockingly the rage she felt for six years, maybe even seven, filled her brown eyes, ”I am not the one scared of what my own child might think of me if she knows the truth.”
Severus whispered in her ear, ”I remember some of that night, Hermione, it was not Ronald Weasley’s, mine or even you're now husband’s you cried out in pleasure. It was the name of one man… It was Potter’s.”
Of course, he would remember her worst secret, something that she has long since gotten over, the man who would never be hers. The man who she hoped those nights in that tent would make a move, but his heart had never been hers. It had always belonged to someone else.
It belonged to the woman who was now his wife, Ginny Weasley now Ginny Potter. Her friend. One of the closest female friends she had ever had. Well and Luna. But Luna was out trying to discover the world with her now-husband. She dragged Neville into the great wide world, and he seemed to enjoy it even though he would never say it.
She scowls at him ” You Severus Snape have no room to talk about past feelings for someone you cannot have two words, Lily Potter. If I remember correctly you cried out her name in the heat of passion as well.”
His face turns to a dangerous smile “ But thanks to Potter, everyone knows my dirty little secret, does anyone know yours?”
She looks away from him, to stare at the children’s toys that litter their front lawn. The pair of bicycles one blue and one dark purple. Rose had refused pink, and when Draco had suggested it, she threw a fit. She wanted the neon green one, and this was their compromise, next time Hermione was going to buy her whatever bike she wanted, other’s opinions be damned. She was not going to teach her child what her parents taught her that others' opinions mattered.
Rose was going to be seen and was seen as the daughter of one Severus Snape, the wizarding world was going to make a choice about what they thought of her long before she stepped in the room. And she needed to learn now before she could really understand what they thought of her, that she was valuable, that her opinions mattered, that she mattered no matter what they said.
No younger version of a child like that of James, Sirius, Remus, Lily, Draco, Pansy or Peter was going to make her child hate herself for simply being herself.
She pleaded to him desperate to get him to understand, making herself look softer, ”Severus she goes up to random men and asks if they're her father…”
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His eyes turn huge, the ramifications of such actions hit him like a ton of bricks. How dangerous it might be for a child to do such a thing. With a decent man he would laugh it off, but if she did it out of sight, to someone with less than good intentions. It was like the promise of a kitten or a puppy in a van, but better. Like money to a kid who knows they are poor, like food for a starving child. Children didn't always have the best of sense, by far. He was a teacher at one point he of all people should know that. Good sense or lack thereof was made potion’s so hard to teach.
She was vulnerable in a not so different way than he had been, the same way that led him to the clutches of Lucius Malfoy and then to the dark lord.
He sighs loudly ” Tell her then, tell her about me. Tell her who I am to her. ” He digs out of a pocket in his cloak. He's been saving, these three photos for the day this came. He didn't want this day to come but he was the type to always be prepared.
One is of his mother. Her tired face, in her ”Sunday best”, her lank black hair, weary eyes, he could swear if he looked hard enough he could see the covered up with cheap makeup black eye she had been sporting the day this photo was taken. It was the only time the Evans family was able to convince her to join them at church one Sunday. She wore a dress that made her look like a witch it was a dark green, long-sleeved and too the floor. She looked so out of place. But he still remembered how happy that dress made her. Tobias burned it that night.
She never wore a pretty dress again and she never went to church again either.
The next was of him from school. He stood next to Lily Minerva of all people had taken it, she gave one copy to Lily and one to him. This one was magical and moved. They both were in their school robes.
And the last was of him now well a few years ago, it was snapped by Minerva again. She insisted everyone needs at least one good photo of themselves. He disagreed, he had mirrors, he was not a vampire he could easily see what he looked like if he wanted to. He knew how ugly he was, he didn't need to see it in a moving photo.
He hands them to her and said ”give her these and tell her about me, but I will not meet her in person. Tell her I abandoned you two, make Draco look like some hero and her real dad. Make me into a monster it's for the best.” He hands her the envelope of Galleons and turns away.
He stalks down the small muggle road like did when he was called ”the dungeon bat”, and he cries. Severus cries for his mother. The woman who ”fell down the stairs” bullshit, fucking bullshit that was, he pushed her. Severus couldn't prove it though. He cried for his daughter who ended up with a horrible father such as he, he cried for Hermione who would spend the rest of their daughter’s at least childhood, and better yet whole life tied to him, he cried for Rose who deserved a better man as her father, and she had one, but Draco couldn't claim a child with jet black hair and eyes was his biological child, but most of all, for himself because he wishes he was capable of being the father Rose was crying out for.
Merlin, he needed a drink. And he was going to get one, well more than one. But wasn't that exactly what got him and Hermione into this mess? It didn't matter he needed a drink.