Notes: Hello! I'm finally posting one of the outtakes I promised. Severus and Ginny at a Mummy and Me group was probably the most requested one. Thank you to all of the mums who helped me with this one. I have no children and babies scare me. And thank you to Morbidmuch for alpha reading and Vitellia for beta reading. I exist on tumblr under the name turtlewexlerwrites if you want to come say hi and/or pester me to post the other outtakes.

Outtake: Holly

22 May 2006

They were almost there.

Severus could slip away if he wanted to. He had been a spy. He remembered his old tricks. If he went into hiding, not even the ever-persistent Ginevra could find him. Did Elizabeth truly need to socialise with those her own age? He couldn't see the point. He had known plenty of children, and most were intolerable.

Wriggling in her pushchair, Elizabeth shouted in delight as the library came into view. The unfortunately named James joined in. Well. That was Severus told.

"If Paula starts in on me with her snide comments again," Ginevra said.

Instead of finishing her statement, she glared in the direction of the library. That look said plenty. Severus had seen that exact expression on her face often enough when she had been his student to know what it meant. Back before James had been weaned, he'd thought Ginevra and Paula would come to blows over Paula's diatribes against bottle feeding.

"Please refrain from casting a Bat Bogey Hex on her," Severus said. "Obliviating everyone at the library would be exceedingly tedious, and it would be a shame to erase the memory of her punishment. Do something that could have a plausible Muggle cause. An unpleasant rash, perhaps, or a very long-lasting case of laryngitis."

"See?" She clapped him on the back. "This is why we're friends."

"You have a Cheerio in your hair."

"Huh. So I do." Plucking the offending piece of cereal from her hair, she tossed it in a nearby bin. "Bloody things get everywhere. You should see the backseat of the car."

Cokeworth's library was a narrow Victorian building on the side of town where the Evans family used to live, cushioned from Severus's sort by street after street of Petunia-worthy middle class dwellings. He followed Ginevra through the stacks to a meeting room at the back, where the playgroup was held. Paula sat surrounded by the rest of her clique—the ones who bought only the best organic gluten free cereal hoops for little Crispin or Euphemia.

"Look, it's James and James's mummy!" Paula said in an irritatingly high-pitched voice to her child. Tutting, she added, "I almost didn't recognise him. His hair is nearly as long as Emily's now! And goodness, look at you, Ginny. You must be due any day."

Ginevra's false smile was somehow more threatening than her glare. "Not for another two months."

Severus had not been prepared for the warring factions and competition at a group centred around children. Talking about developmental milestones with some of the attendees was rather like sitting next to Minerva at a Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match—with far more passive aggressiveness and fewer ginger newts.

Severus and Ginevra settled down in their usual spot: near the door, in case a hasty exit was required. He had learnt his lesson once before, when he had been caught without a spare change of clothes for Elizabeth. He and Ginevra still referred to it as The Unpleasantness.

"Muffliato," Ginevra muttered. "Honestly, whenever someone comments on how enormous I am, I really am tempted to lie and tell them I'm not even pregnant."

"Please do. That would be far more entertaining."

This was why Ginevra continued to insist that they brave the annoyance that was Paula. Forget any enrichment their children might receive; Ginevra was here to talk to Severus under a Muffliato.

How his life had changed since Hermione's return. Sometimes he wanted to send the knowledge of it back in time to his younger self, but only if he could be present to see his own reaction.

"Laura is in charge of the activity this week," Ginevra said.

"What joy is mine."

"Why she thinks glitter is suitable for such small children is beyond me."

"Glitter isn't suitable for anyone, Ginevra. It's a pity we didn't think to weaponise it during the war. We could have ended it much sooner."

"But at what cost? I'm not convinced it wouldn't have resulted in more casualties, and we'd probably still be chipping it off of ourselves."

"Hmm. Fair point."

As these sessions were held at a library, they usually began with picture books read to the children by a volunteer (one of Paula's cronies). They always had too many stories at these things. Severus was all for promoting the joy of reading, but convincing toddlers to sit still for any length of time was like herding Gryffindors. Around the point of the third book, when Elizabeth was attempting to chew on some filthy toy that had been in Merlin knew how many other mouths, he sighed.

"Why does she not give up?" he asked Ginevra. "The children have clearly stopped giving a shit, and I have no interest in the comings and goings of caterpillars, regardless of their hunger level."

"I think it's a riveting story. What will happen next?"

"I imagine he will eat something else. Eventually, he will become a butterfly. Or perhaps, in a shocking plot twist, a moth."

Ginevra gasped. "Don't ruin it!"

That week's activity ended up being a song. Severus almost would have preferred the glitter. Elizabeth's babyish screeching reminded him of the one time he'd heard Nymphadora attempt to sing. Perhaps Elizabeth would grow into that voice? Or, more likely, she would mature into someone who tripped over umbrella stands and asked impertinent questions and went rushing in to save teachers who had never been kind to her. Nymphadora had often teased her mother, threatening to change her name to "something completely normal, like Elizabeth." Severus and Hermione had named their daughter in honour of Nymphadora, in a roundabout way, and names had an uncanny way of predicting things in the Wizarding World.

"Did Hermione tell you?" Ginevra asked, rubbing her belly absentmindedly as the volunteer announced that it was time to go. "We found out it's another boy."

Another Potter boy. Thank Merlin he was no longer teaching.

"Congratulations," he said.

"Guess what Harry wants to name him."

"Something terribly original, like Sirius James?"

She giggled. "Nope. Albus Severus."

Severus froze. "I beg your pardon?"

"Alb—"

"I heard you the first time. Good gods, what would possess the two of you to do such a thing? Names have an uncanny way of predicting things in the Wizarding World, you know."

Her expression turned soft and almost sad. "I wouldn't mind at all if he turned out like you, Severus."

His life truly was strange.

Severus cleared his throat. "That is not what I meant. Why on earth would you saddle yourselves with a child like Albus?"