Author's Note: In one review made by Dahlia Rose-Marie in my very first fanfic, she suggested I do a series of one shots from that storyline. Instantly, this little scene came to my mind and I decided to take her suggestion.

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First Birthday
Rated T

Severus Snape had been Crucioed by Lord Voldemort himself, the undisputed master of that particular spell, but he didn't remember it hurting this bad. She crushed his hand again, clenching her teeth against her own pain. It was taking all his skill as an Occlumens to manage his reactions and stay by her bedside. He was sure a bone or two in one or more of his fingers had broken.

"It feels like I've got a bowling ball stuck inside me," she groaned as the current set of contractions eased. She flopped back against her pillows, beads of perspiration dotting her forehead. The attending Healer, a graying, older witch, her faced lined by years of studied patience, and with the appropriate name of Lovina Pusht, looked askance at Snape.

"It's a large, heavy ball with finger holes used to . . . " he hesitated at her frown. "It's a Muggle thing," he concluded and the Healer shrugged. She was probably a pureblood, most likely.

Hermione let loose another scream and Snape cringed at the amount of pressure his diminutive wife was able to apply to his hand. Had he heard another bone snap? He tried to make soothing noises to help calm her, but those were as foreign to his mouth as a smile was. He endeavored nonetheless. He managed a few growls that he hoped sounded somewhat comforting, but the look on her face suggested otherwise.

"Where's my wand?" she barked out.

"Now, Mrs. Snape . . . " Healer Pusht began.

"Granger," snapped Hermione. Apparently they were divorcing. She had told him just that morning that she loved being his wife and now Snape was confused. She still had hold of his hand, so maybe not all was lost.

"I want my wand," she ground out again.

"Now, Mrs. . . . uh, Miss . . . " Healer Pusht glanced at Snape. He glared back at her in response. "Hermione . . . you know our policy. Birthing witches are not allowed wands and for very good reason."

Hermione put her hand out and a vase of flowers slid across the stand next to her bed. She hoisted it above her head, but Snape reacted quickly and vanished the potentially lethal weapon.

"You know wandless magic?" Healer Pusht asked her, surprised.

"My . . . this man taught me," Hermione gasped out as she panted. Incredulous, the Healer turned to Snape.

"I've always heard you were a brave bastard," she said, "but teaching a witch wandless magic before she gives birth is simply insane."

Hermione's sharp intake of breath indicated the contractions were back.

"We have magic! Why does this have to be so painful? Isn't there a better potion I can take?" she demanded.

"You've got the best available," said the Healer. "Your husband made this batch especially for you." Snape tried the half smirk that his wife recognized as his smile, hoping to get a bit of respite from her condemnations. That wasn't going to work.

"Well, that's glowing commentary on your brewing skills," she scoffed and her breath hitched as another contraction gripped her and she transferred that pain to his hand. He tried not to grimace. Healer Pusht attempted a distraction.

"Picked out any names, dear?" she asked Hermione.

"Josiah," his wife was able to force out the name through clenched teeth. They had had discussions over this moniker. Hermione wanted to continue with names from the Bible as Snape's middle name, Tobias, had it's origins there. Since Snape's middle name had been his father's given name, he wasn't really keen on the idea. But now did not seem an appropriate moment to protest.

"And if it's a girl?"

"It's a boy," Hermione insisted. Healer Pusht looked puzzled at such assurance. Snape helped her out.

"Muggle medicine," he muttered and then his thoughts drifted. If the Muggles were right and it was a boy, he might be able to study up on how they were able to discern such information and convert that knowledge into a spell or potion and produce similar results for wizardingkind. Musing about what wand movements would be applicable or what potion ingredients might be effective, he was startled by his wife's screech. The pressure she applied to his hand nearly brought him to his knees and he was certain he felt at least one more bone break.

"Okay, here we go!" exclaimed Healer Pusht. "The baby's head is crowning. Push!"

Hermoine let loose her loudest yell yet as she leaned forward and bore down. The baby inched it's way forward.

Years ago, Snape had watched the movie Alien when it had run in Muggle London theaters. It was one of the most horrifying things he had ever seen. But the creature popping out of the Muggle's astronaut's abdomen had nothing on what he was witnessing right in front of him - what he saw coming out of his wife now.

With his free hand Snape gripped the bedrail for support, his knuckles going whiter than humanly possible. He felt his eyes starting to roll up into the back of his head.

"Oh no you don't, mister!" Hermione spat at him. "You're a damn Death Eater! If I have to go through this, you have to watch!" She latched onto his arm and hissed "Ennervate!" That helped a bit. He steadied and returned his attention to his witch.

"I want the incantation . . . for that bollocks hex . . . right now! You are never doing this to me again!" Hermione managed to gasp out between pushes.

Snape lowered his voice, glancing quickly at the Healer who seemed to be paying no mind. "You know that was a prank hex and it won't really . . . ah . . . work the way you seem to want it to now," he said.

"I'm planning on altering it for the next time you even try to come near me!" The last few words were delivered at a higher pitch as she prepared to push again.

"Ahhh, here we go," said the Healer. The baby suddenly gushed out and Hermione gasped in relief as the pain released its hold on her. She dropped his hand and leaned forward to look. The babe took a breath and unleashed a cry or two and then fell silent. Huh. Maybe they had something in common already. He preferred not to say anything if there really wasn't anything to say. If he could only be so lucky.

"Oh, Severus! Our baby! He's adorable!" Hermione murmured. Snape surreptitiously glanced at his wife, suspicious of the sudden change in her demeanor.

Snape thought it looked more like a tiny, damp house elf, except for the ears, thank Merlin, and was somewhat baffled at his wife's demonstrative cooing over the little thing. It was red and sticky and impossible to tell what complexion it would have. He was hoping for a little more melanin. Healer Pusht used her wand to clean up the child. Now it looked less like something that belonged in a jar in his potions stockroom, but not by much. Pusht attended to the umbilical cord and conjured a blanket to wrap the little one in.

Hermione was busy counting fingers and toes. That's useless, he thought, it's not like we can send it back.

"Oh, look at this, Severus!" she gently pulled at a thick black curl. "He has so much hair! Oh, he's so cute!"

He took a quick glance at his wife. Was she serious? Maybe he had put a bit too much ashwinder egg in her birthing potion.

It was the first day of September. In exactly 4015 days he could put the creature on the Hogwarts Express and be shut of it. He watched Hermione's face, radiating happiness, as she cuddled their baby. Well, that prospect might be a little more daunting than he originally calculated it to be, if she remained as attached as she seemed now.

She reached for his hand, the one with the suspected broken bones, and squeezed it gently. Turning her head to look up at him for the first time since the baby had birthed, that radiant expression on her face did not change when she focused on his face. Instead it seemed to expand to include him. Being a very good Legilimens, he could not prevent his natural tendency to read what he saw in her gaze, as fearful as he might be as to what he would see. But her eyes were warm, a bit misted, and informed him that her happiness now was because of him. Not realizing he had been holding his breath, he relaxed and exhaled. Well. Maybe divorce was not imminent.

"Your turn, Papa," she whispered and released his hand to use both of hers to lift the tiny bundle.

They had also been through this subject before. As her pregnancy was drawing to its close, she had become persistently obsessed with providing him experiences to hold babies, once she discovered he had never done so. But her methods had bordered on the bizarre, even to recruiting poor mothers on the street in Diagon Alley. Needless to say most had been his students at one time or another and had enough sense to politely decline, although one young mother had actually turned and fled.

Hermione had finally found somewhat willing collaborators in Ginny Potter and her baby James. Well, Ginny was willing. James had grabbed hold of several strands of Snape's hair and wouldn't let go. Snape had scowled at the child, but to no avail. What good are babies if they can't be intimidated?

His wife hoisted the infant over the bedrail and suddenly Snape was looking at his son's face for the first time. With one hand behind it's head and the other supporting it's bum, he brought the child in close for examination. The boy had made remarkable progress past the damp-elf stage, and looked rather human now. His little eyes were closed and he yawned. Closing his tiny pink mouth, he left his tongue sticking out. Great, thought Snape, the disrespect has started already.

After a few moments, Josiah smiled at him and the tongue made it back inside. Snape smiled back and went to return the child to his mother. But Hermione was fast asleep, laying on her side, facing her little family.

Snape conjured a comfortable armchair, pulled it close to the bed and sat down with the baby. After a few moments, he was feeling drowsy too. It had been a long, hard day even if Hermione had done all the work. The Healer had departed, so Snape didn't have anyone to inform him what he should do next. This can't be too difficult, he thought. He leaned back in the chair and laid his sleeping son on his chest. Applying a temporary Sticking charm to the boy, he tucked the blankets around the tiny body. Snaking his hand through the bedrails, he closed it over the smaller hand of his wife. In a few moments he was snoozing as well.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open to find a warm hand encompassing her own. She looked over only to find her husband and her son apparently fast asleep in each others arms. She smiled and squeezed Severus' hand. His black eyes opened and the most incredible thought popped into her mind.

"You know what?" she whispered. He raised his eyebrows, questioning. "I want another baby, Severus." He pursed his lips, biting back a sarcasm, no doubt, and waved his hand. A blank slip of parchment appeared next to her on the bed followed by a quill, self-inking.

"I want that in writing, witch, signed and dated," his low voice rumbled.

Hermione laughed and planted a kiss on his strong, warm hand.

Author's Note: By coincidence, the movie Alien premiered in Britain on September 1, 1979. I was going to make the premiere date Josiah's birthday just for the humor of it, and it turned out to be the same date as when Hogwarts starts fall term!

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