Your Baby is the Size of A...

35 Weeks - Your baby is the size of a pineapple

Severus took tea with Poppy and Minerva in Poppy's office, the three of them crowded around the mediwitch's desk, cradling teacups in their palms.

"You're looking rather . . . well rested," the older professor quipped, the very corners of her lips quirking upward in an almost coy smile.

"Worn down rather," he ground out, shooting her a look because her insinuations were quite apparent. "But grateful that I have been given leave of those damnable staff meetings."

Minerva cackled, giving him a look. "Albus knows how to pick his battles with you."

He shot her a look over the thin rim of his cup but said nothing.

"Speaking of Albus," Poppy started in, placing her teacup down on the desk and giving him a pointed look. He held up his hand in a valiant effort to cut her off before she spouted drivel he had already been hearing from Remus as well as Albus himself.

"I don't care to hear it."

"It will be heard, though," Minerva cut in, giving him a steely look he remembered from his youth. "He's very concerned about you, you know. You and the baby." The Gryffindor looked to Poppy for support. "How big did you say the little one was now?"

"The size of a pineapple," Poppy said lightly, picking up her teacup and deferring to the more aggressive woman, as though the mediwitch expected Severus would do far better with some verbal manhandling than coddling at the current point.

"You've got a bloody pineapple crushing your insides and you petulantly remain on your feet all day, hiding away in your Dungeons. Filius and Pomona ask after you. Even more so now that they know your condition; that the werewolf has taken up in your rooms." She leaned forward, her bony fingers curving over his forearm. "Everyone is worried. Just take Albus up on his offer for an extended maternity leave."

Severus reeled backward; lips drawn in a tight snarl. "Everyone is worried now – a hapless child in the care of cruel, bullying Snape."

Poppy snorted, eyeroll implied. "Severus, we all know that Filius and Pomona, none of the others knew about the full extent of your efforts in the war. And yes, you can be a bit of a bully, but that's beside the point." The mediwitch purposely poured yet another round of tea for all of them, giving him a look.

"Yes, you're glowing; there's decidedly something different about you. But you still look dead on your feet half the time; you don't eat. Of course, your colleagues are worried about you."

Huffing out a deep breath, Severus picked up his teacup and took a sip. Yes, admittedly, he had been evading his coworkers. To have his secret outed by Albus, with blatant disregard – as usual – left him feeling more . . . vulnerable then he would have liked.

And Severus Snape did not do vulnerable.

"Perhaps we have a small get-together, all us staff. Give them all the chance to air out demons or what have you," Minerva said, gesturing vaguely while she added copious amounts of sugar to her tea. And Severus was pleased to see that someone liked chamomile tea as much as he did, her nose crinkling up at the aggressive floral note. But unlike Minerva, sugar would just further serve to upset his stomach, so he was forced to deal with the floral notes undoctored. Severus splayed a hand on Bump, rubbing tight circles in thought.

"Fine," Severus replied, taking one last sip of his tea before abandoning it on Poppy's desk. "I think it's utter rubbish and completely pointless but do what you will," he spat.

The two women beamed up at him, seemingly oblivious to his discomfort as he fled the office.

In his rooms, Remus lounged on the sofa, looking up cautiously as he burst through the door, shucking off his heavy teaching robes and concealment spell alike.