Your Baby is the Size of A...

26 Weeks - Your baby is the size of a bundle of kale

His thoughts were much too loud. Echoing, rattling off the walls of his skull as his fingers curled around his teacup and he peered down at the unassuming liquid. What he wouldn't have given for a single malt, only to have to settle for chamomile. The floral notes of it choked in his throat, barbing sickly there. Severus wrinkled his nose briefly, mouth twisting sourly as he forced another drink – if only to quiet his thoughts.

Because all those old memories had stirred up old feelings – murky like silt in his chest, in his mind. And really those were something he'd rather ignore. Pretend they had never existed in the first place. He'd had a hard enough time cramming them down the first time; he didn't really need a repeat endeavor.

Life really was easier when he bundled himself in bitterness and spite.

". . . Severus," Poppy started in softly, pulling his attention unstuck. He glanced up at her warily, a palm smoothing absentmindedly along the swell of Bump as she folded herself down on the sofa near him. Minerva had been called away to oversee detention – which thank Circe for small wonders, as Albus had relieved him of that duty. And his dinner, if one could call it that, with Poppy had been comfortable as she told him of all the trouble the students got up to with one another.

"Hmm," he hummed, sipping at his tea. Poppy's hand curved along his forearm, her gaze earnest and warm as she stared at him.

"You know you deserve to be happy, right."

Those words punched into his chest just as surely as if she had hit him. Severus drew in deep breath through his nose, looking decidedly everywhere but at Poppy. His fingers drew aimlessly along the swell of Bump as he tried desperately hard to not think those thoughts. Because as it was, Severus was already on borrowed time, wasn't he. Should have died in the final war. Just being alive was tempting fate – throwing happiness and a stupidly persistent werewolf into the mix seemed like asking for more trouble than he was worth.

"Does happiness come in colors other than red and gold," he finally drawled, resting the teacup against his chest and giving her a pointed look. She snorted at him, rolling her eyes.

"I'm being serious here – and not just because you're clearly my favorite Slytherin." Poppy's shoulder knocked against his as she settled in his space. "While I certainly have no qualms about you spending all your time with two old witches," her fingers soothed along Bump, coaxing the baby into a flutter. "I do seem to recall a time when dear Remus was . . ."

Severus gave her a look, cutting off that train of thought of things he'd rather not think about. "That was quite some time ago."

"Time makes the heart grow fonder," Poppy told him demurely, sipping at her tea as she gave him a sideways look.

"I thought that was distance." Severus huffed and took a pointed sip of his disgustingly cold tea. He could warm it – it wouldn't take much – but chamomile wasn't exactly worth his time. He fleetingly wondered if Bump would allow some oolong, or even dragon pearls. Something other than chamomile and peppermint.

"The point still stands that Mister Lupin was always someone you tolerated," Poppy muttered, lips pursing in barely concealed amusement. "More than tolerated, one might say."

He could feel his cheeks flush as his mouth twisted into a not-quite snarl. "That was a long time ago," he finally managed, with substantially less bite than he was aiming for as he got to his feet. "We were different people then." And he left his cup on the coffee table, taking his leave – desperate to be done with that conversation.

Not that it mattered, because laid up in bed those thoughts clamored in the quiet expanse of his mind. Because he could quite clearly remember their knees knocking together under the table and quiet, private smiles flashed at him over dusty books. Severus remembered the crippling coil of too much emotion, sitting there in the library and thinking what they could maybe be. But those thoughts were better left in his haze of memory as Severus huffed out a heavy breath and pressed his face into his pillows, forcing his eyes closed.