The first night after Severus had been so graciously granted the custody of the Baby-Whom-He-Was-Going-To-Flush-Down-The-Toilet, the professor thought he would sleep like the dead. And, in fact, he did fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow after putting Potter to sleep. That is, until about midnight, when the nightmare began.

It should have been a sign for the Potions Master, it should have alerted him that this was not going to be a peaceful night. At first, however, Snape had thought it was his alarm going off, but soon realized that it was the screeching of the baby in the crib several feet away. Groaning miserably, the wizard sat up.

Of course it was a dirty diaper. Disgustedly, Severus changed the baby, grumbling and yawing, before he set the child back down in the crib, and flopped back into his own bed. Sighing in relief when his head hit the pillow, he believed that things would be well. After all, who hadn’t woken up in the middle of the night to use the restroom? Why should a baby be any different?

But when the abominable wailing sounded at two in the morning, Severus found himself more than just a little annoyed with the brat. What was happening here? But duty bound, he got up, only to find the diaper clean.

Hissing and grumbling louder, the Potions Master lumbered into the kitchen and made up a bottle for the baby. If he had been more awake, he would have realized that he was really making a bottle. But as it was, his eyelids were still so heavy, and he could barely register how outraged he really was about the whole situation.

Lifting the child out of the crib, Severus sat down on his bed, rocking the child as he fed him. The rocking motion was actually putting the professor to sleep more than it was the baby. But both Snape and Potter fought against the draws of sleep until finally, little Harry was finished eating. Growling, the professor tucked the child back in and went to bed.

And when it was four in the morning, Severus was quite frustrated, to say the least, with the bratty little Potter demon. Smelling the problem, even before he picked the child up, the Head of Slytherin was severely tempted to throw the dirty diaper in the fireplace and into Albus’s chambers, but decided against it until he could think the consequences out more clearly. There would be a time and a place for his revenge, after all.

But after changing the diaper, the child refused to be consoled. So, for an hour, the fearsome professor, the man called the “Dungeon Bat” had to rock the child back and forth, while waking around the room. He recalled that he had spoken to the baby, but he could not think of his exact words. Something about feeding him to Lupin or transforming him into a lemon drop for the Headmaster to devour might had been a few…

At last, when hope seemed to be shining through the tunnel for Snape, and when he put the child to sleep, again, he felt like he had only just laid down before his alarm went off. Sitting up panicked, Severus looked around to find that it was indeed six o’clock. Where had the night gone? In bottles and diapers! he thought miserably.

Knowing he had to keep himself on schedule, reluctantly, Snape got up and staggered to the bathroom. As he went, he glared at the baby, who was sleeping comfortably. He hated children, he hated babies, and he hated Potter.

Eyes still closed, Severus went through his morning routines automatically. He stripped down and showered, becoming more awake when the warm water hit his face. Gasping, he realized that he was not quite as tired as he had thought he was, but knew that he would be exhausted later.

That Sunday was an eventful time. Severus spent the whole day in his chamber, caring for the little Potter. In between the baby’s sleeping, the frazzled Potions Master tried to grade the essays that he had left, but with the baby waking every few hours, grading soon fell away into napping when the child would rest. It was also filled with changing diapers and feeding the hungry little hippo.

Meals in the Great Hall were out for that day, as it was a Sunday, and Severus did not think he could manage getting there. Especially since Harry seemed to want to spend the whole day spitting up, causing Snape to have to clean up at least ten times in just the morning. Merlin! The boy was worse than Hagrid’s mangy mutt Fang!

Wasn't Sunday supposed to be the day of rest? Well, Snape supposed it did not count for those with small children. Merlin, why did anyone want to be parents willingly?

But by the time night came, the Potions Master was exhausted and his eyes were twitching. He had had no human contact the entire day, except Harry. Usually he liked be away from others, but they never wanted to leave him alone, and when he wanted them to come, they did not. Typical.

And as he sat in bed, the professor laid awake in fear, wondering when the little demon was going to start in wailing and crying. Just the thought of it was terrifying. Snape actually began to wonder if he could not just chop the child up into pieces and make some sort of potions out of the brat. Sure, very few potions called for human body parts, but he knew some, and was sure he could sell them in Knockturn Alley. Maybe make a tidy little sum?

But soon the screeching began and Severus got up and went to the cradle. Peering down at the little squealing worm, the Potions Master just stood looking down, wondering if he would ever find a way to shut the kid up. He began to feel helpless when he lifted the child up. There was no dirty diaper and the child had just fed a hour or so ago. “What do you want from me?” Severus begged, wondering when he had truly started to feel desperate.

Little Harry, on the other hand, did not want anything other than to be held by his guardian. He had had a scary nightmare, and just wanted to be held close to the comfortable chest that was always there for him. This man was good, this man was his.

The following morning, Severus peeled open his eyes painfully and reenacted the previous morning schedule. Only this time, it was Monday, which meant classes. Sighing as he combed through his hair, which or course he did happen to comb through despite what all the little snot wipers thought, Snape went into his bedchamber to get dressed. Little Potter was up and giggling annoyingly as he watched the professor.

Severus unexpectedly found that he was self-conscious about Potter seeing him change. Granted, Potter was a baby now, but still! Would he remember the past events once he changed back? Would he remember his professor feeding him or, heaven forbid, dressing and washing him? Snape groaned. He fervently hoped not!

Instead, the Potions Master threw a shirt over at the baby, covering the little boy’s head, and quickly changed his undergarments and pants. Once little nuisance in the crib managed to get nightshirt off his head, Severus had his pants on and was buttoning up his white shirt. It might have been stupid to care, but Snape was a private person, on all levels.

When Harry began to giggle and clap excitedly, Severus found himself smirking. “Liked that, did you?” he could not help the sneer. Old habits and all. “Well, I’ll find other ways to hide you away from sight. Would you liked that?”

To his own amusement, little Potter giggled again, happy at the attention. This was fun! This had been a game to him.

Scooping up the drooling little slime ball, Snape made his way out of the dungeons again and stalked up to the main floor. Several Slytherins saw him on his venture up, but did not dare to say a word. They knew their Head of House well enough to know that the man did not seem amused with his arrangements with regaurd to the baby. But they could not help but be curious as to who this baby was.

Opening the doors to the Great Hall, the Potions Master found almost all of the students there already. Dear Merlin! He usually got here early. He checked the time to find that he was on his normal schedule, why was everyone else early this morning?

Scowling and hissing, the Head of Slytherin walked to the table and sat down in his usual place. Minerva was watching him anxiously, and seemed to want to say something, but never found her voice. And as she watched him, Severus found himself becoming more and more annoyed.

“What is it?” he spat as he set Harry up to feed. He had gotten rather good at it over the last twenty-four hours. But, then again, he had always been a quick study.

“Nothing,” the Gryffindor said hastily. “I was…I was just wondering…”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” the Potions Master growled. “What?”

Looking distinctly uncomfortable, much like Neville Longbottom in potions class, Minerva pressed her lips together in a thin line. For just a wild moment, Snape wondered how she had any lip left after all the years she had done that, but that thought was probably only brought on due to sleep deprivation.

“May I hold…um,” she looked uncomfortable again.

Realizing that he had to come up with a name, Snape wracked his brain, hoping to think of something. He saw that the whole Head Table was staring at him now, even Dumbledore, the unhelpful cold coot! “Evan,” the Slytherin blurted.

Raising an eyebrow, McGonagall nodded. “Yes, of course. May I hold Evan,” she was really not all that conspicuous, but no one other than Albus and Poppy, he hoped, knew the truth of the matter.

“Yes!” he almost cried. He did not want to hold this stinking, slobbering, little bugger anymore. Maybe if he was lucky, Minerva would want to take him away and keep him. That was a pleasant thought. Let her lose sleep!

But as soon a Harry was in the arms of the Transfiguration professor, he began to wail. Instantly every eye went up to the Head Table. All the students were sure that Snape had finally done it and tried to off the baby, but they were all taken back when they realized that it was Professor McGonagall that had made the little thing cry.

The Head of Gryffindor’s eyes widened in horror, and she tried to cuddle the child, but Harry would have none of it. He began screaming and wailing loudly. Minerva tried rocking, and cooing the child, but little Potter refused to be consoled. Severus, merely drank all of his coffee in one gulp, rubbing his head.

“Here, Minerva, give him to me,” Pomona Sprout offered. The Hufflepuff had always been good with small children and the Transfiguration teacher gladly passed on her noisy little cub. Who knew Harry would not like her as a baby?

But as Harry was passed from the arms of Minerva over to Pomona, the baby’s screams got louder. The Head of Hufflepuff tried her very best to please the baby, but again, Harry absolutely refused to be comforted. His little face began to turn purple, and big crocodile tears flooded out of his scrunched up eyes. He did not like these new people!

Sitting with his head in his hands, Severus ground his teeth, a vein in his head feeling as though it were going to explode at any moment. The longer the crying went on, the more he felt like he was just going to snap and kill everyone in the Great Hall. This had to stop!

“Oh for the love of Merlin!” he shouted as he stood up. He stalked over to Pomona and snatched Harry out of her arms. He might have been pleased to see the Hufflepuff so flustered, but at the moment, he really did not care at all.

The instant baby Potter was back in his arms, the crying ceased. Everyone gawked at the Potions Master shocked, before he glowered at all of them. They all turned back to their plates as Snape sat back down. It took several minutes before anyone spoke again.

Settling himself down carefully, Severus picked up the bottle that had been set out for him once again, and fed the little brat. As he growled and grumbled, feeling his eye twitch, baby Harry had to calm his racing little heart. It had been very scary when those other weird people had held him. He did not like it! He liked this man so much better. With him, Harry felt safe.

“Little Evan seems quite taken with you,” the Headmaster remarked too cheerfully. Severus responded with a snort. “You are doing a wonderful job, my boy, is he not?”

“Oh! Yes, yes he is,” Filius smiled uneasily. “Like he’s been doing it all his life.” Minerva and Pomona were still too traumatized at not being able to stop the child from screaming.

“Heaven forbid!” Severus thought he might have heart failure. He could not put up with much more of this. He simply could not!

“Which reminds me,” Albus’s smile sent waves of dread shuddering through the Potions Master. “Little Evan seems too small to be very far away from you. I’ll call a house elf to help you manage him during your classes.”

“He is not coming with me to class,” Snape was horrified at the thought. The brat so close to a cauldron would be too much temptation.

“But the only way he seems manageable is being near you,” Dumbledore looked far too pleased. “You wouldn’t want the poor little thing to feel abandoned, would you?”

“He is not coming with me to class!” the Potions Master’s voice rose in volume.

At that moment, Harry threw up on him.

******

Racing through the halls, Snape came to his classroom and blew open the door. The large wooden door slammed into the wall, causing a loud bang, making more than a few students jump in surprise. They already knew it was not going to be a good day.

Not even bothering with roll call at the moment, or even looking at his class, Snape went to writing the instructions on the blackboard instead. There was absolutely no sound in the room, with the exception of the chalk scraping across the board. That is, until Ron Weasley had the misfortune to sneeze.

Spinning around, glaring lividly at the class, Snape’s black eyes burned hole through each and everyone of them. “Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley, for interruption!”

For once, Ron had the mind not to argue. Everyone in the whole school knew that Snape was not to be messed with, especially now that he had the baby he was looking after. The only thing that the students wanted to know was who the baby was and who he belonged to. That, and why the parents left the innocent child in Snape’s care.

But where Ron had the grace to keep quiet, Draco did not. He snickered at the Gryffindors, much like he always did. “Mr. Malfoy,” the cutting bark of Snape sliced through the air.

“Yes, sir?” the Slytherin answered obediently, sensing that his Head of House was not as amused as Draco had just been.

“If I didn’t want Weasley to interrupt me, then what in Merlin’s bloody name makes you think I wanted you to?” there was only furry in the professor’s eyes.

“S-s-sir?” Draco stammered, never having been addressed like this from Snape.

“Ten points from Slytherin!”

The room was silent as the Potions Master went back up to the board to continue writing the instructions. The students, however, all sat in complete loss and total confusion. Had Snape just taken points from his own house? For once, both Slytherin and Gryffindor were at a loss and were feeling the exact same thing. They all knew that this day was not going to be a pleasant one.

Snape did not lecture that day, but gave short, choppy answers and clipped instructions before he had them all start to brew. While the students worked, the professor sat at his desk and tried desperately to catch up on his grading. He was never late when it came to grading, he always had everything done the next day, something he was very proud of, considering that he had to balance Death Eater meetings, but why was it that one little baby completely disorganized him?

Only about ten or fifteen minutes passes when Snape’s blood pressure began to lower and he was feeling better, when a house elf popped in. Closing his eyes tightly, the professor just wanted everything and everyone to go away. Not yet, it could not be that the little brat was whining already!

“Master professor, sir?” a little house elf asked timidly, shaking.

“What is it?” Snape snapped.

“Little Master is no doing so well,” the house elf looked up timidly, fear in her big yellow eyes.

Not doing well? What did that mean? Standing up instantly, Severus took out his wand and cast a large spell over all of the cauldron, suspending their potion until he returned before placing a sticking charm on all of the knives and any other sharp objects, just in case. After all, it was Slytherin and Gryffindor, anything was possible.

“Stay here,” the professor ordered the house elf before he rushed to his office where Potter was.

Entering, feeling much too worried for his own good, the Potions Master found the child wailing. But again, the instant the child saw Snape, he stopped and reached up for the Slytherin to hold him. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the baby, but Snape knew that looks could be deceiving.

Picking up the little bugger, Severus inspected the child. He was not wet, nor would he be hungry so soon. “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded. “Why are you crying?”

Of course the baby never answered, but he did give a watery smile in response to the professor. “So,” Snape drawled. “You just wanted to disrupt my class? Even now you’re an insufferable brat!”

The baby smiled wider.

Sighing, Severus had no choice but to take the child back to class with him. Again, he felt his dignity slip down several notches as he walked around his class, looking at the potions with the baby on his hip. Merlin, he had to get rid of this brat! Potter was ruining him!

But to their credit, none of the students said so much as a word the entire classes with the exception of asking for another to pass an ingredient. They all knew what Snape could be like, and the all knew what he would probably do to them if they commented. Of all the teachers, Snape was the one not above hitting them with books or giving them grueling, manual labor in detentions. Angering Snape was just not worth it in the long run.

That whole day, Severus had all of his classes with baby Harry, had all of his meals with baby Harry, and took a walk around the school with baby Harry. The child was a leech, and he was slowly sucking the life out of the Potions Master.

By the time night came around, Severus did not feel like anything except passing out. After washing the little monster and changing him, Snape actually did flop down on his bed, fully clothed, and fell asleep. He was too exhausted to attempt anything else.

The Potions Master dreamed about being a housewife that night.