A quick note or two: This was written for a contest. It lost. I sad. (But not really.) This is also unbeta'ed. Snarry. Canon-based. 16-year-old Harry. And MPreg, which was the point of the contest. It is unfortunate that I dislike MPreg as a rule, and, at the time, Snape Mpreg especially so, which may be the reason behind my defeat. C&C always welcomed.

Disclaimer: Severus Snape, Harry Potter, and all things Harry Potter-related are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Brothers, and associated parties. This is a fan derivative that is only for fun's sake and is not intended to infringe on those rights. (... Not mine, don't sue? It's been a while, you see...)

A Series of Events
Chapter One

It was around the month of April that Severus began to suspect the impossible.

It certainly wasn't in January, although that month did have a horrifying charm all its own. It was a few days after the New Year, and a few before the anniversary of his own ill-received birth, that the simply inconceivable and reprehensible occurred.

Harry Potter had buggered him.

The week before had been hectic for the Potions Master and current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The situation with young Mr Malfoy was still not within his control and both the Headmaster and the Dark Lord loomed over his every waking thought. Even now, as the Headmaster's health was fading away by the moment, Severus knew that things were slowly, but surely, reaching their inevitable conclusion, with or without his participation.

In spite of himself, he almost wished, on occasion, that it would all just end already. Certainly, the wait was not helping him in his attempts to prevent it.

Potter, who, true to form, was breaking rules and throwing useless accusations throughout the castle, was not helping the situation, but Severus never expected much from the boy. He didn't have to deal with the boy nearly as much as he had the year prior, but Black's death had turned the wretched urchin into even more of an irritant, if that was even possible.

So, right after the holidays, when he caught Potter after curfew in a third-floor corridor near Ravenclaw Tower, Severus was not surprised in the least by the boy's almost-volcanic reaction. When the boy began to make what he surely thought were sly, clever insinuations, however, Severus's control, stretched thin as it was, loosened just enough to grab the boy by the upper arm and pushed him through the nearest unlocked door.

The fact that the door led to a small, windowless room no bigger than a cupboard was of no great consequence at the time.

"If you had any sense," Severus said as he pushed Potter none-too-gently against the now-closed door with one hand, "you would keep your mouth shut about things you know nothing about." With his free hand, he cast an eye-squinting Lumos to light the darkness. In the wandlight, he stared at the boy's face. Potter's expression only grew more flushed as Severus continued, "However, you are a Potter." He loomed over the boy in the small space. "You are not necessarily bred for common sense."

The boy's eyes darken with the typical overabundance of emotion. He could make out every speckle, every minute variation in the green of the boy's irises. It was getting harder every year not to notice Lily's marks on the boy, not the least of which were his eyes. Harder, yes, but as the inevitable approaches, it also made it easier to remember all he had to atone for.

"I know exactly what's going on," Potter snapped back at him, shoving his chin defiantly at his professor. For a moment, Severus had hoped the boy would have been derailed by the comment on his genealogy.

"Do you now?" Severus said, his own position unwavering even as his grip tightened on Potter's arm. "I'm surprised you are capable of knowing anything at all. And, of course, you went to bother the Headmaster with whatever nonsense you think you know."

"I don't think I know," Potter said with a snarl. "I know I know."

"And what did the headmaster tell you when you told him whatever it is that you think you know," Severus pressed, the gap between his body and the boy's thinner than propriety would have allowed. The boy's ragged, uncontrollable breaths were hot against his cheek. He yanked the boy's arm upwards to bring them more eye-to-eye. "Keep out of affairs that do not concern you."

It was then that Severus sensed it, the figurative snake in the grass. How or when it had developed into the blood-gorged embarrassment it was at that moment did not matter. Severus's sneer became much more pronounced than should have been allowed by nature as Potter's face darkened from something other than self-righteous fury.

Severus wouldn't be the man he was if he had allowed this weakness to go unaddressed.

"My, and here I thought we hated each other, Mr Potter," Severus said as he made no move towards or away from the faint bulb of heat touching his leg.

"Shut up," Potter said through clenched teeth as he tried to pull himself out of Severus's grip while attempting to not press any more of himself against his professor. He was not succeeding by either count. "Get off of me!"

Severus let go of the boy's arm without warning, causing the boy to stumble against the wall. "Ask and you shall receive," he said with dark humor.

The words barely left Severus when Potter attacked.

Whether it was premeditated or a mark of malicious clumsiness, it was unimportant. What was important was how Potter, in an attempt to regain balance, grabbed a fistful of Severus's robes and pulled his professor against him.

It was still there, that hot expression, now pressed completely against Severus, but that was not foremost on the list of items that needed to be addressed. The hot hand gripping Severus's forearm wasn't either. Surprisingly enough, Severus's own heightening arousal was not even registering properly at the moment.

The gasping, sudden, demanding kisses the boy was giving him were taking all of his attention.