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When Hermione had learned of the reproductive system that governed magical biology, she was, predictably, incensed – as much as by the ineffectiveness of protest or knitting to change things as by the situation itself. When she – and, much to his dismay, Ron – had presented as Omega a few months after the final battle, Hermione couldn’t bring herself to be too heartbroken over the dissolution of their brief romance in the face of her body betraying the goals and values of her mind.Many other Muggleborns – Alpha and Omega alike – were similarly unmoored, and though she couldn’t revolutionize biology, Hermione realized she could improve the systems that dealt with it. She soon secured a grant from St. Mungo’s and the Department of Magical Education to ensure proper education on the topic at Hogwarts, train and provide counselors and therapists to ease the transition, and ensure that heat and rut suppressants and contraceptives (and their recipes) were accessible to all.After several months of taking advantage of one of the therapists she hired, Hermione came to some kind of terms with her presentation. She rode through the necessary first heat with a completely unfazed Lavender, which in itself required more therapy, and armed herself with heat suppressants and the determination to never hook up, never mind bond, with an Alpha.This determination attempted valiantly, but ultimately failed, to withstand a growing, mutual attraction to her main suppressant brewer slash former Hogwarts professor slash reformed Death Eater.And now, her battle against roles assigned to her secondary gender was facing another blow, because it seemed that she wanted a child.Not a whole gaggle of children, like Harry and Ginny and Luna had and were continuing to produce – just the one! Something she had come to reluctantly realize in her therapy sessions - that she paid full price for, by the way, because the grant wasn’t *that* generous - was that while Harry had a “saving people” thing, she probably had a “taking care of people thing” (Harry, bless him, being Exhibit A). Because it began before she presented as Omega, she could at least be somewhat assured that it wasn’t her secondary gender making her feel this way - but she still had several concerns, worries, and well, outright fears.*What if it was the gender roles associated with her primary gender that were influencing her? Especially since the Wizarding World had even fewer women in leadership positions than the Muggles. How could she be both clever, intelligent, political advocate for the overturning of gender-roles Hermione, and a mother? And what if she was bad at it?And wasn’t it selfish, anyway, to bring a child into the world that she knew had so much wrong with it? And how would it look for someone who has publicly advocated against societal roles based on secondary gender to do something so….Omega-like?(Perhaps she was on worse terms with it than she liked to believe.)Hermione had brought up this point with Fleur – also an Omega, who had taken up Hermione’s cause with aplomb – who, looking like she doubted Hermione’s supposed intelligence, simply said:“Was your goal to help everyone suppress their genders, or was it to give them the most choices possible? Not doing what you want to do because of how it will look – that’s the opposite of autonomy, I should think.”But it wasn’t just about what she wanted (and this should have probably been her biggest concern): what if Severus didn’t want children? Obviously he couldn’t stand them when he had taught at Hogwarts, but he had mellowed considerably (for him), and was actually quite gentle with Harry, Ginny, and Luna’s children.Well, there was only one way to find out. And she hadn’t fought with the Sorting Hat to be put in Gryffindor for nothing.***
Severus listened attentively through her whole anxiety-woven spiel about said worries, concerns, and fears, and only the barest hint of exasperation showed on his face. When she was finished, he let out a soft snort, leaned forward, and took her head in his hands.“You have defied simple categorization from the day I met you. Have you forgotten your old House so quickly? Let me assure you, as I have many times before – intelligence, curiosity, ambition – those are not traits any rational person would associate with Gryffindors, and yet, there you were.”“Only because I insisted!” Hermione protested. “And you would hardly have said that at the time.”Severus raised an eyebrow. “Are you attempting to argue with me that you are not courageous, stubborn, and prone to occasional bouts of foolishness? Because I am at least as stubborn, but with more experience and a willingness to fight dirty.”“How is trapping a reporter in her Animagus form and blackmailing her not dirty?” Hermione retorted, but then sighed. “Fine, point taken. People aren’t definable as one thing – whether by antiquated and divisive school housing systems or their genders. I–” She closed her eyes to collect herself, to translate her feelings into words that made logical sense; Severus’s hands didn’t move an inch. “Ever since I found out I was a witch, I fought to prove to everyone, including myself, that I belonged, by being the smartest and the most capable. And…it worked! I became “the brightest witch of my age”, who everyone was sure would go on to some incredible career, make new discoveries or inventions, become Minister of Magic! None of that – none of the idea of Hermione Granger that I and the people around me created, especially after I presented – involves children.”She opened her eyes, and was embarrassed to find them wet. Severus’ eyes – steady, sturdy islands in the eye of a storm – didn’t move as his thumbs wiped away her tears.
“I did not realize you cared so much for the opinions of others.”Hermione’s throat made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. “Neither did I, until recently. I would have rather remained unaware.”“What would you do, then, in the absence of their opinions?”“That’s the other thing, too isn’t it? How can I possibly know if this is what I want, or what my body wants?”Severus’ eyes were halfway through a roll before he stopped them. “Hermione, you have been on heat suppressants for years. Unless you are doubting the craftsmanship of your supplier – in which case, that is a discussion I would prefer to have at the office – your Omega hormones aren’t influencing this desire.”“Of course I’m not doubting you,” Hermione protested. “And I don’t want to be a slave to other peoples’ opinions, either! And if we could just do this without being questioned or gossiped about, I would be much more at peace with it. It just seems easier to continue to be what people think you are.”“It is,” Severus said softly, “until it isn’t. And it seems like you’ve hit that point.”“I’m tired,” Hermione admitted. “I’m tired of trying to figure out who I want to be, what to do to achieve it, and ending up feeling like I’ve let myself down. I want to do something just because I want it.”That got Severus to frown. “I assume I shouldn’t conclude from that statement that our relationship is actually in service to some other goal?”“That’s not what I meant,” Hermione said gently, and then remembered, “Oh, I suppose I should have asked this earlier, but, um,….you want a child, too, right?”“I promise, Hermione, we wouldn’t be having this conversation if I didn’t.”Hermione felt something rise up in her chest, something that seemed to float up through her throat and manifest itself in a big, ridiculous, smile. “Oh! Good. But you’re sure, right? You’ve thought about it before this?”“Goodness, woman, do you want my three foot essay on the subject? Don’t answer that.” It was Severus’s turn to close his eyes and take a breath. “Yes, you exquisite woman, I want a child – your child. I knew it when – and if you repeat this to him, I will be forced to ensure he shares a hospital room with Lockhart – I saw Potter’s eldest run to him for the first time. I don’t recall what was wrong, but the way she looked at him – with implicit and unwavering trust in him to care for her, and it being well founded…well.” He paused again. “I would like to give a child that. And, if I must admit it,” A swallow. “That kind of faith—fresh, unbroken–would be nice to have, and to live up to.”That was enough for Hermione. She threw her arms around him and cried. His arms lowered to encircle her, and as he buried his nose in her hair, she pretended that she did not feel wetness in the roots.After they composed themselves, Hermione lifted her head to look at him. “Let’s do it, Severus. Let’s have a baby.”As if it had been an effort not to smile, Severus’s burst out of him in a rare display. “You realize your heat is not due for three months.”“I believe I have an extremely reliable supplier of heat inducing potions for a partner, though.”In a tone only half-mocking, Severus asked, “But you’re sure? You’ve thought about this before?”Hermione playfully slapped his shoulder. “Some may have said I’ve thought *too much* about this.”“For once, I agree with some. Luckily for you, I do have the required potion on hand.”“Oh? And for how long has that been the case?”Severus rolled his eyes. “I told you when I first realized my wishes. You do the math.”“You didn’t tell me what age! Jamie started walking at, what, 13 months? But if she was running, it was probably at least a few months later…and she’s four now…”Severus kissed her quickly on the mouth, before making more quick presses down her body.“I assume that was to shut me up?”Severus mumbled an assent between kisses.“I just – ah – wanted to make sure it hasn’t gone bad.”Severus stopped and looked up. “There’s no expiration date, but there will be a few days before it takes effect.”“Can I assume, though, that there’s no harm done if we were to have a few practice rounds beforehand?”Somehow, in the same movement, Severus lifted her up to her feet with one arm, and pulled out his wand and summoned the potion.“You certainly can. But first - drink.”Hermione did.
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When Severus had presented as an Alpha on his seventeenth birthday, he mostly felt inconvenienced. Fewer of his year-mates in Slytherin had presented as Alpha than one would have expected, to hear them go on about it. The fact that the greasy haired half blood, already more knowledgeable and talented with the magic that was their birthright, presented as an Alpha, was not cause for celebration. His status was not elevated in their eyes; indeed, he was more frequently reminded of his blood status, more often an instrument for their dirty work, but less often a partner in it.He could have borne all of this indefinitely, if he had had to, but when Lily, too, presented as Alpha a few weeks later, the last, lonely shard of hope he held in his heart for reconciliation disintegrated. And when, in late March, the damnable cretin that called himself Potter presented as Omega, Severus – who had thought he had managed to carve out a space for himself in the world, even if it was only cupboard-sized and rented from someone else – thought he could feel his mind collapse with the weight of shame.For all those years — for an Alpha to be constantly tormented and sometimes bested by an Omega, to lose the obvious object of his affections to him – it could not be borne.And so he had tracked down the swiftest of the school owls to deliver a missive to Lucius, who was all too happy to arrange a meeting with the only person, Severus thought, who could equal Severus’s loathing of secondary biology and provide a means of escape. By taking the Dark Lord’s Mark, you bound yourself to him with a chain that suppressed both Alpha and Omega biology: you renounced heats or ruts, the ability to reproduce, to bond. For other Death Eater Alpha recruits, this was enough to make them balk, but for Severus, whose one desire had already been lost to him, the chain was a reprieve, not a chokehold.Better to serve in Hell than suffer in Heaven, he supposed. And so he became an Alpha who learned to serve a Beta.It was, as it turned out, a very useful ability.Second only to his talents in punishing himself.When he first started teaching at Hogwarts, Severus was sure that there was no more fitting punishment: a forced return to a place he thought he was well clear of. What could possibly have been more miserable than attempting to wield authority over those he had shared desks, toilets, and humiliations with just a few years ago? What was more dreadful than once again having to navigate the politics of Slytherin House, while now also having to control and protect it? What could have been less appealing than every day walking by a different place where he had been disgraced, or worse – the few places that contained memories of when he had not?He respected and resented the setting in equal amounts as he constantly reminded himself of why it was worth it.And when it no longer was worth it, when the nail he had given to Lily’s murderer was rammed in her coffin – well, he just deserved it all the more, then.Still, the aftermath of that night led to a far less grievous yet still irritating problem: his Alpha hormones were once again in full effect. And because he had taken the Dark Mark before he had his first rut, he could not safely take a suppressant potion. Severus couldn’t decide whether it was fortunate or not that Dumbledore was in the room when his scent returned, but the man assured Severus he would arrange someone to “assist” him with his problem. The less said about that experience, the better – suffice it to say that Severus was happy to be relieved of the problems of desire and pleasure, and able to return to his bitter self-flagellation. If he often flagellated other people who weren’t himself, that was their own fault for being alive when Lily wasn’t.And wasn’t it better for them, in the long run, to be chased away nursing a wound, than to stick around and end up dead?There were still a few moments from the decade following that, when held up to the light, might have contained the palest ghost of joy – complaining to, conspiring with, and reluctantly taking advice from Minerva; successful potion patent applications, and even better, seeing his creations put to use; a student stopping by his office just after graduating to thank him for punishing his bullies in third year. No matter how practiced Severus became in self-denial, he couldn’t shield himself from every good thing. A few specs were bound to creep in.And then Potter came, again, and everything was worse, somehow, but also better, because now there were things to do. There were tasks to perform that mattered, that were dangerous and infuriating and that put him in impossible positions, but Severus would be lying if he didn’t admit that he occasionally allowed himself to enjoy the thrill and drama of it all. Even when the Dark Lord returned, beneath the stress and fear and the feeling that he was strung so tightly he would break any minute was a sense of twisted purpose and pride: the knowledge that no one else could do what he was doing. The blasted Tower, of course, put him back in his place. As did the revelation that he surely would push Lily’s memory to his death just as he killed the woman himself.But it was the cursed year – the year he served as Headmaster – that would bring him down lower than he had ever been, and make him face how little he had done to atone for his sins.He had once thought that Lily was the only thing that mattered, and everything else could go rot. Somewhere, somehow, in the decade and a half between her death and the Headmaster’s, he had – reluctantly – discovered that this wasn’t the case.This slow trickle of morality turned into a crushing waterfall when, as Headmaster, he watched – prevented, mitigated, lessened when he could, but far too often, watched – the children under his care be tortured.Even Dante hadn’t imagined a hell that changed as you did.***When Severus awoke, magically shackled to a bed in St. Mungo’s, he was, contrary to what might be expected, happy to be alive. He knew he had more dues to pay.When, several months later, Potter and Granger and Minerva had argued his way out of Azkaban, he was less happy.He refused all offers of assistance from Potter in settling back into Spinner’s End – he was no longer allowed to teach at Hogwarts, even if he hadn’t reached his limit to that method of self-punishment – but Minerva was more persistant. Especially for an Omega.After his few possessions had been unpacked, and Minerva waged a magical war on the dust and grime of the house under protest from Severus, she sat him down for tea and an inquisition.“What are you going to do, Severus?” She demanded, none too gently. “You’re miserable without a project.”“Perhaps that’s for the best,” he sneered, as if making a mockery of his detractors, while mentally considering this new potential circle of hell: mundanity. The question was, though, whether to suffer such a life in the magical or the Muggle world. The latter option, of course, dripped with irony: a boy once beaten down by a Muggle, who in attempting to make himself superior to them threw away the life of his Muggleborn friend, now living as one. However, would it not be too good for him – their continuing lives a reminder of the good achieved by the role he played? The magical world certainly had it beat in the terms of the suffering he would incur – despite his acquittal, he had his supporters and detractors both, but he was concerned that it would drive him to suicide, and that would just defeat the purpose.Being used as Satan’s chew toy was a fine punishment for dead Romans and Biblical figures; for the living, a punishment must be miserable but endurable. Made torturous not by its severity but its longevity. Escapable, but only for brief interludes, and made worse for it. The frying pan kept at such a temperature as to be painful, but not so much that you would rather jump into the fire.With these criteria in mind, when he learned of Miss Granger’s impossible crusade on secondary biology, he could think of nothing more punishing than to assist her.And it was a trial, at first, but it was a trial he liked, despite himself. He had, foolishly, counted on the insufferable, arrogant, shrill Granger of her school days to show up; instead, underneath whatever spirited force drove her through the red tape, public scorn, and other obstacles that stood in the way of her center, Severus had found her weary, mellowed, and overwhelmed. He had expected to be tortured by the presence of a woman who had Lily’s superficial qualities but few of her essential ones; instead, he found that her vision, her kindnesses, and her weaknesses were different but not lesser. And because neither of them had put the other on a pedestal, or felt they owed the other gratitude for introducing them to magic, they could be friends in a truer sense of the word.He was in the middle before he realized he had begun; frankly, he could have been at the end if Hermione had not taken matters into her own hands.“You don’t want this,” he had snarled, pushing her away after she had kissed him in the middle of a heated discussion over Muggle queer theory, “You don’t want your old, tortured, evil professor.”“You’ll find that I do, actually, know my own mind,” Hermione had retorted. “And you are not evil.”“I watched children and teenagers be tortured, Hermione,” Severus returned. “Your age and younger, some of them were your friends.”“You didn’t do that because you wanted to, and don’t pretend otherwise,” Hermione said. “I’ve spoken with Minerva, and that blasted Dumbledore portrait. You did all you could. Either way – it’s not up to me to decide how they feel about you. I will continue wanting you regardless.”“You’re a child,” Severus spat, heart racing despite himself. “Scarcely twenty years old–”“I’m your boss, and I haven’t been a child for a long time, Severus. None of us who lived through the battle have.”He should, Severus thought, be putting up a better fight than this. Once upon a time, he could have. He needed to, for the sake of his punishment. And he knew how, too; knew how he could get her to go away forever, make her fire him so he can try again, down a different avenue that somehow did not involve people.He could remind her that he was an Alpha, and claim that he was traditional in all senses. That he would want her off heat suppressants immediately, to abandon her passion project, and that she would be submissive to his will in and out of the bedroom.Somehow, he could not bring himself to go that far. More fool him.He did not know how long he stood there, stony-face, struggling to come up with a scathing rejoinder; if the Severus of five years earlier had seen him, he would have died of despair. It was long enough for Hermione to reach a tentative hand up to his face and gently pull his hair out of his eyes. Severus had never thought that brown eyes could be striking, not in the ways that Lily’s green and Albus’s blue were, but somehow, Hermione’s were: they glinted, sharp as a sword, like they had to fight just to be seen.“Severus,” Hermione uttered softly, and Severus remembered that her voice was a weapon, too, “You’ve done so much - so much good, even if you only see the bad. But whether you’ve done enough penance, or whatever, to make up for your crimes is irrelevant to – this. I want you, you brilliant man, with your ingenuity and snark and courage and even your extreme masochism. You don’t have to be good enough for a relationship, you just have to be wanted. And, if – as I suspect you do – you want me, then to deny us what we both want would be unjust. Which you seem to have a problem with, these days.”Severus did not fight (very hard) the smirk that cracked his face open. “Leave it to you to use logic as a method of seduction.”Hermione flushed slightly, but grinned. “I don’t hear you complaining.”Severus knew what it was to want something you couldn’t have; he had spent the majority of his life doing it, then pushing it down inside him. To actually accept something he wanted; to risk having it and losing or ruining it – that was a terror he had spent his life avoiding.But he was still not a coward.Hermione must have seen something shift in his face, because she said, “Kiss me, you idiot.”And Severus did.
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Hermione must have been too distracted to notice the symptoms. Later, she would recall feeling hotter than usual in her meeting with Percy – and the financial standing of St. Teneu’s certainly wasn’t titillating. And Justin had noted on his way home for the day that Hermione was spending an unusual amount of time redecorating her office; she had just thought that transfiguring every other underwatered spider plant she had into pillows was a preferable activity to hexing the balls off of Zebediah Smith, who, in his latest Daily Prophet diatribe, referred to her efforts with St. Teneu’s as “tolerance for Muggle ways gone too far”.With a hundred different counters to that floating in her head, it wasn’t until she arrived at Harry and Luna and Ginny’s that she began to suspect something was off.The triad was expecting, again: only Ginny was pregnant, this time, but she was carrying twins. Under the pretext of needing help to move (even the best expansion spells could only do so much), the three had invited her over. Hermione suspected, however, that their real intention was to give unsolicited advice on pregnancy and parenthood, and she was more than prepared to be affronted. For Merlin’s sake, she was the founder and president of a gender and sex non-profit; she knew about pregnancy! Or enough, anyway.Hermione supposed she should just keep her mouth shut and accept it; they had been supportive of her decision – all of the decisions since the war, actually – and had said not a word about how dramatic a change it was from her previous stance. Nor did they voice speculation on how it would look for the foremost advocate of non-traditional secondary gender roles to not only be mated to an Alpha, but pregnant with his child. Harry, Ginny, and Luna were only excited for her, though perhaps too quick to offer their children up to be babysat by Severus and her “for practice”.Hermione Flooed directly to the Potter home, where she immediately felt the force of a mousy-haired four year old slamming into her leg, and who then – horrifyingly – took hold of her robe and used it as a handkerchief.“Aunt ‘Mione!” the snot monster squealed, holding her arms out for a hug.Hermione flicked a quick Scourgify before bending down to reach her. “Hello, Lili,” she greeted, hoping against hope the girl had done a thorough job with the robe.“See what you have to look forward to?” Ginny’s voice came from the other side of the living room. “Lilianna Nymphadora - you know better than that. Apologize to your aunt.”Lili, doe-eyed, looked up at Hermione in repentance that seemed a little too practiced to be genuine. “Sorry, auntie.”But just because she knew the game didn’t mean it wasn’t effective - her eyes were a deeper brown than her mother, bordering on black, but still retained a warmth behind the darkness that Hermione couldn’t bring herself to rebuke. “It’s alright, Lili. But never again, okay?”Lili nodded. “Never again - to you!” she giggled.Ginny sighed. “She’s been spending some one-on-one time with Uncle George, lately,” she said by way of explanation, and as she walked further into the room, Hermione’s attention was drawn to the silvery haired toddler - Selene – in Ginny’s arms,whose legs rested over her mother’s large belly. And if Hermione’s gaze lingered on it longer than it should have, it was only because she was feeling dizzier than usual from the Floo.It didn’t escape Ginny’s notice, however and she gave Hermione a crooked grin as she rubbed her belly with one hand. “Oh yeah, you’ll get this too,” she said, as she bent down to place Selene in one of the several play mats scattered around the floor, “Gets bigger every time, even when it’s only one.”Hermione, suddenly at a loss for words, and now feeling sweat drip down her chest, attempted to make a sympathetic noise. She moved to stand up, but found herself stumbling as she did so, almost tripping over Lili, and only barely managing to steady herself on the back of a chair.“Are you alright, Hermione?” Ginny asked with concern, eyes raking her over before they lit up in understanding. “Oh, Merlin – of course. Hermione, let’s get you sitting down for a minute, okay?”It took Hermione a second to respond, eyes full of Ginny’s baby bump, but she tried to pull herself together. “I’m not an invalid, Ginny,” she snapped. “I’m just tired.”“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Ginny muttered as she walked decisively, but carefully, over to where Hermione stood, unmoving still, and less than gently yanked her into the chair.“Is Aunt ‘Mione sick?” Lili asked, worried.Ginny gave her four year old a gentle smile. “No, Lils - Aunt Hermione is going to be just fine, believe me. But I need you to go get your other mummy for me, right away, okay? She’s in the shed packing up her garden tools.”Lili hesitated for a moment. “Is running allowed?”“Running is allowed only in this instance and others where your dad, other mum, or me say it’s okay. Now, go - and don’t stop anywhere else!”Hermione watched her take off in a state of bemusement. “Ginny, I don’t–”“Oh, stop it, Hermione,” Ginny cut her off, “and listen to me, because, for once, I am more of an expert in this subject than you. You’re about to go into heat.”Hermione blinked. She had been trying not to think about it, and she supposed it was about time for the potion to take effect, but she hadn’t had any— “Oh, no.”“Oh, yes, is more like it,” Ginny replied with a smirk. “Aren’t you excited?”“Of course I am,” Hermione insisted, and she meant it, mostly. Her conversation with Severus a few days ago had allayed most of her anxieties about the decision to become a parent – but she still had a few about the process.Ginny raised an eyebrow.“I just dislike not being in control,” Hermione admitted. Her time with Lavender had been fun as it was happening – okay, it had been exhilarating – but when it ended, the humiliation over what she had happily allowed her former roommate to do to her was so complete that she considered Obliviating herself. Luckily, she rarely ran into Lavender afterwards, but anything that triggered the memory was also a reminder of the time her rational mind was not in her body’s driver seat.Ginny stifled a laugh. “God, Hermione, don’t do that – it’s too early in this pregnancy to be pissing myself. But – you know it’s not like you’re completely gone, right? You can say no if you’re uncomfortable. And besides, it’ll be different with Severus, right? He’s your mate.”Merlin, Hermione hated that term. “Partner,” she corrected.“Sorry, partner,” Ginny said, genuinely. “I’m working on it.”“I know,” Hermione assured her. Though triads weren’t unheard of in the magical world, the set up the three of them had – both Omegas working while their Alpha stayed at home with the kids – had spurned plenty of vitriol, despite Harry Potter being the Alpha in question. Ginny thus supported Hermione’s political and personal preferences wholeheartedly, though she preferred curse-breaking to non-profit management.“Anyway,” Ginny continued, “You trust Severus to take care of you, right?”“I suppose,” Hermione responded, then realized how that sounded. “I mean, of course I trust him completely. I love him. I know he’ll make it good for me. I just would rather take care of him.”“Hermione, you already have,” Ginny replied. “You saved him from Azkaban, you gave him a job, helped him forge a new identity – he’s an adult, I don’t know what else you could do for him, nevermind what he would let you do. I’m begging you - let someone else take the lead, for once. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”“I suppose I won’t have a choice,” Hermione sighed.Ginny looked at her intently. “You do, Hermione. If you told me, right now, that you didn’t want this, I’d body bind you right now and spell an emergency heat suppressant down your throat. Would you like me to do that?”Hermione took a deep breath and forced herself to seriously consider the question. She was nervous, certainly, about going through a heat for the first time in six years, and resentful of the fact that it was necessary in the first place – but did that mean she didn’t want to do it? She had a much better idea of what to expect; she had a partner she trusted and loved and who had, with practice, become excellent at sex; and they both wanted to have a child that was biologically theirs.She considered, too, how many choices she had had to make in the last week alone, how many decisions for which there was no one right answer she had to make the final call for, and how executing said decisions often came with multiple moving parts that could run through red tape at any given moment.Perhaps letting her hormones take control for a little while didn’t have to be confining, but liberating.“I don’t want you to do that,” Hermione said definitively. “I want this. I want a child with Severus - whatever it takes.”Ginny nodded, and some humor entered her eyes. “Well, good – you’re going to be an incredible mum. And I’ll remind you that passionate, mind-blowing sex with your partner is not exactly a slog.”That earned a snort from Hermione. She was about to ask if Ginny really thought she’d be a good mother, but she felt the heat in her head that she had been trying desperately to ignore rapidly radiate down her body to her cunt, and let out a gasp.Somewhere in her mind, she registered Ginny slowly rising to her feet as two other bodies entered the room, but all she could think was I need Severus I need my partner I need him I need him to fuck me, fill me –“I’m going to take you to him right away, Hermione,” a soft voice, emitting from a blonde-head that was suddenly beside her, said. She let herself be lifted to her feet, and even though the person beside her was definitely not her Alpha, she obeyed them without hesitation when they said: “Hold tightly to my arm, Hermione. I’m going to Side-Along you to your house, okay?”Hermione thought she managed a nod. “Now – please –”Several seconds of excruciating pain later, and she found herself at their doorstep that smelled of him.Without a glance to her escort, she ran through the entrance.To where Alpha waited.***Thank Merlin for Heat Inducing Potions was Severus’s last conscious thought before it started.He did not recall what he was doing before she entered and her scent – a cornucopia of fragrances he did not care to recall the names of — enveloped him. Severus’s breath caught as his eyes took in the supporting evidence of her condition: a wide-eyed, harried expression on the face of a woman who did not do “harried”; sweat beads he could see disappearing between her breasts, covered only by a camisole and an unbuttoned blouse; her hands, trembling and working furiously to remove the rest of her clothing, even as she rushed towards him.His cock rose with the rest of him to meet her as she threw her arms around him.“I had to come home– it started at Harry’s – I-I need—”Severus silenced her with his mouth, his nose awkwardly colliding with hers in his haste to bury himself in his Omega. He pulled her closer to him, and shuddered when she, moaning, ground herself against his cock.“Need it,” she repeated between kisses. “Need your perfect cock, need your knot.”“And why do you need it, Omega?” Severus purred, pulling away; all of him screamed for her, demanded to take her right here, but Severus was well versed in self-denial, and knew the pain was worth the pleasure. “What makes you so hungry for my knot?”She had removed her shirt with impressive expediency, but he grabbed her hands before she could undo her bra.“Soon,” he assured her, and then took her fingers into his mouth one by one while she answered him.“I need you to…ah…fill me up,” She groaned. “I want you to get me pregnant so everyone can see that I’m yours. I need you to breed me.”“Just short of full marks, Omega,” Severus hissed, dropping her hands. His Omega’s face immediately fell, but he ran his hand over her curls to soothe her, careful not to ensnare them – hair pulling, they had discovered, was emphatically not enjoyable for his Omega . “‘Breed me’, who?” he said, more gently.“Breed me, Alpha.” She growled confidently, and Severus was sure his cock would burst through his clothes. As he picked her up, bridal style, and hurled the both of them to their bedroom, she continued:“Fill me with your cum, Alpha. Put so much in me it looks like I’ve been pregnant for months. Make my belly expand with your child, my breasts grow large with milk, Alph–”“Enough.” Severus covered her mouth with his hand as he laid her, more roughly than usual, on the bed. “You have always been an overachiever.”She didn’t miss a beat before bouncing back up and pulling him down with her. Before he could recover, she fumbled for one of his hands and bit him, a smirk in her eyes as she scraped her teeth along his palm.Severus groaned, and rolled himself on top of her with none of his usual grace. After a few moments of disentanglement, he managed to pin her arms behind her head with one hand, while discarding her bra with a silent wave of the other.His Omega’s breasts were not huge – not that Severus had a plethora of examples for comparison – but that suited him perfectly. They fit naturally in his hands, making them the ideal size for squeezing, caressing, and – dare he hope, in the near future – milking.The very thought of it made him want to enter Her right then, but even through the haze of his rut, Severus wanted to savor his Omega as much as possible.“Don’t concern yourself, Omega,” he whispered as he squeezed her left breast, “I will do as you command……eventually.”His Omega moaned under his touch, and he felt her hands struggle in vain to escape his grip.“Tsk, tsk,” Severus said softly, “Is my Omega not satisfied?”“Want you now, Alpha,” She whined. “Taking too long.”Severus chuckled and moved his lower hand to her nipple and pinched. She let out a squeal that convinced him to speed things along, and he replaced his fingers with his mouth, lapping at her areola as She gasped increasingly loudly.When he finished, he made sure to look her in her frenzied eyes – lacking the sharpness they had outside of heat, but gaining a hunger that almost made Severus feel self-conscious – as he moved down the hand that had been keeping her pinned. He gave both her breasts another squeeze, and said, “Because of what I’m about to do to you, Omega, these will soon swell, maybe as soon as your first trimester. Imagine how big you could get, Omega. Imagine how much more sensitive”--here, he pinched her nipples again– “they will become, once you are pumped full of milk and hormones from carrying my child.”Hands free, She immediately moved to undo her trousers. Severus lifted himself up to allow the maneuver and assist in pulling them off, but again prevented her from doing the same with her panties.“Alpha,” she protested, more meekly this time. “Give me your baby.”“In due time, my Omega,” he assured her, moving downward to kiss her belly. From the corner of his eye, he caught her head turning away and a light blush flooding her cheeks – different from the blush of arousal.Severus frowned. “What’s wrong, Omega?” When she didn’t respond, he again fought through the fog of his mind to say, “Hermione.”She looked at him and blinked, as if she had forgotten that that was her name. “It’s stupid, I know,” she muttered, “I’m not exactly, um, flat there already, not like Ginny was, and –”“So?” Severus took Her chin in one hand and gently turned it back towards him. “I am, thank the gods, neither Potter nor Lovegood. I adore the woman I have; her body as well as her mind. That includes your softness here,” he said, pressing another kiss to the bloat.Though Severus had truly paid no attention to the size, at least, of his students (Hermione’s friends had not let him forget the teeth incident) he did vaguely recall, months after the final battle, snide whispers from Hermione’s political opponents and former classmates alike on how she had gained back the weight she lost from a year of camping and then some. It was true that she wasn’t as thin as many of her contemporaries; he knew that late evenings putting together a non-profit organization from scratch led to take out for dinners more often that not, and that she partook in weekend nights of drinking – often alongside the two Mrs. Potters, when they weren’t pregnant – to relieve the stress more frequently than she would admit.But her rounder face, her supple belly, her well defined love handles that already boasted a few faint stretch marks — these were not anathema to him, not in the least. Whether it was due to his Alpha - inherent desire for an Omega who would make a good childbearer or his own predilections, Severus found every part of her absolutely mesmerizing.“And,” he added, gently caressing it, “There are few things I’m looking forward to more than watching this grow.”“Really?” She blinked at him, somehow looking both disbelieving and entirely trusting. “You’ve never seemed to pay it much attention, before.”“I did not want you to feel self-conscious, or pressured to have a child,” he said simply.. “I assume the latter, at least, is no longer a concern?”Seemingly reassured, she returned to her Omega, and brought her hands down to rub her belly with no trace of shame. “Fill me, Alpha.”Severus laughed, more in awe than in humor. That this witch should be his and his alone, for him to take pleasure from, for him to breed –With a few flicks of his wrist, Severus divested himself of his shirt, and his Omega of her underwear. Even though his dick and his Omega were crying out to be used, Severus wanted to give his Omega her pleasure first.There was no law saying he could not be both expeditious and thorough, after all, and as he lowered himself down her body, he nudged her legs open, put his lips to her cunt, and set out to prove it.She was as slick as he had ever felt her, and he was sure that this wouldn’t take long, no matter what he did. No sooner had his tongue brushed her clit and she was bucking against him and moaning unintelligibly. Severus yanked her back down by the aforementioned love handles – what a delight for them to serve both an aesthetic and utilitarian purpose – and breathed in her cunt, lightly covered in a bush of dark curls, before taking her clit in his mouth.It was not typical, by societal standards, for Alphas to take such pleasure from serving their Omegas in this way, but it came naturally to Severus. He didn’t hear his Omega complaining, but rather uttering repetitions of “Sev” echoing and rising to a crescendo. Only a few minutes had passed before he brought her to the peak, screaming “Alpha!” loud enough to break the windows, had he not enchanted the room with a permanent Muffliato long ago.Severus lifted himself onto his knees, and began discarding his trousers and pants as he gazed at his Omega. She was flushed from her cheeks down to her stomach, her hair was a giant rat’s nest from slamming it into the mattress while he pleasured her, and as her eyes closely followed the movements of his fingers, she spread her legs as far as she was able and stuck two fingers into her entrance.It was undoubtedly the loveliest, most erotic sight Severus had ever seen. He was enraptured by the way she opened herself, accompanied by throaty gasps that got increasingly deeper in timbre as she continued, that he neglected to feel self-conscious as his unremarkable member, even fully, excruciatingly erect, came on full display.His Omega showed no disappointment at the sight, though – and indeed, she never had. Their first night, Hermione had scoffed at the idea of preferring bigger cocks, assuring him that it was technique that counted far more than size. And while his skill then had left much to be desired, the both of them took much delight in improving it.Severus wrapped a hand around her intoxicatingly wet fingers and tugged them aside. “Desist,” he said, voice almost a whisper, but her fingers stilled instantly. “You are more than ready - as am I.”Without another word, he flipped her over onto her hands and knees. Though it was neither of their favorite positions, it was irresistible for this occasion. He spread her cheeks, positioned himself at her soaking cunt, and pushed in. He fully intended to take his time with her, but even he was only so strong, especially once embedded deep in his Omega.Severus snapped his hips forward, hitting her G-spot with a ferocity that made the sweetest sound: his Omega’s scream of pleasure.“Love this, love doing this with you,” he said at some point, voice growing louder as his control dramatically slipped, defeated by desire, “Love what this is going to do to you, Omega.”His Omega only moaned, no longer capable of intelligible speech, throwing her head back and grasping at the sheets for dear life.“Gonna come inside you, gonna – bloody hell, Omega–” She pushed her ass back against him, taking him deeper. He responded by pinching her clit with one hand and a nipple with the other, only hastening both of their orgasms.“Gonna fill you with my seed, knot you, make you pregnant,” he continued, louder and faster, only in part to be heard over his Omega’s sounds, “Gonna look so pretty, Omega, heavy with my child, so obviously mine, my perfect, perfect, perfect, Omega.”They did not come together, but it was a near thing, with the effect of his Omega’s clenching seeming to milk Severus’s seed from him. He only had eyes for his thoroughly debauched Omega, whom he had filled so well that he imagined that her belly was, indeed, a bit inflated, but he felt his cock extend deeper than he had thought possible, and his knot moving to seal her entrance.As soon as it was in place, Severus felt some of his control return, and he gently wrapped his arms around Hermione, pulled her against him, and turned to lay down so they were spooning.He buried his face in her hair, breathing her in as his heart rate slowed in time with hers. She joined her hands with his where he had placed them unconsciously: on her stomach.“Are you alright?” He asked into her curls.Hermione gave a soft chuckle. “ ‘Alright’ would be the understatement of the century for what I’m feeling, Severus.”He smirked as he lifted his face. “Fortunately for you, I understand this is only the beginning.”“Oh, yes, because you must have been just miserable,” she huffed, but there was little menace behind it.“Hermione, I will remind you that I am well acquainted with misery, and I am certain that it does not exist in the same universe as what I felt just now,” Severus replied, placing a kiss to the top of her head before continuing. “Have you let the others know you’ll be out of office the rest of the week?”“I charmed a message to be sent to Fluer on the onset of my heat before we even agreed to do this,” Hermione admitted.“That’s my witch,” Severus chuckled, arms tightening around her. “I’ve prepared food for the week and warded the house so that no one may Apparate here unless they’re in dire need.”“Severus! You don’t think that’s a little superfluous?”“Not at all – I do not need Potter or Lovegood or whatever infernal Weasley inadvertently catching a glimpse of my witch as I put our child into her.”Hermione shivered against him, and the sensation made his cock twitch inside her. “You make a compelling argument,” she admitted.“That’s the only kind I make,” he returned.Hermione huffed again, and Severus couldn’t help but relish how many times he had managed to silence her today; it was, generally, a rarity.But it was only so enjoyable because he knew her words always returned.First, however, she let out a yawn; they would both need a few hours sleep before they picked up again. “I wish we could know if it’s taken yet,” Hermione muttered, a hint of either anxiety or excitement or both coloring her voice.Though a heat and coinciding rut between a bonded Alpha and Omega was guaranteed to produce a child, there was no way of detecting when the conception actually took place. Once the heat ended, the Omega’s scent would change to indicate pregnancy.“It will,” Severus affirmed, “Please do not let it worry you.”“You know how tall of an order that is, Severus.”“Indeed.” He paused. “So I will have to take it upon myself to ensure that you have no spare neuron to even attempt it.”Hermione laughed, tiredly but fully, the kind that nowadays, more often than not, powered his Patronus. “I think I’ll enjoy that.”Severus ensured that she did.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The first time Hermione had visited St. Mungo’s, she hadn’t registered that there was no maternity ward. In the midst of Mr. Weasley’s recovery and running into Neville and his parents, it hadn’t exactly been the first thing on her mind.And so when in those early meetings with Kingsley and various anonymous Ministry officials, Hermione had naively suggested partnering with St. Mungo’s maternity unit, she had simply been stared at with looks that ranged from pitying to disdainful. The Minister took pity on her and explained that pregnant people were taken care of by midwives in the comfort of their own homes; the processes of gestating and laboring were not under the purview of healers, especially for Omegas.That had initially sent Hermione into another rage that she was prepared to add to her existing campaign, until the wind had been snatched out of her sails by – well, just about every non-Muggleborn she had complained to about it. From what she had heard from her female relatives over early childhood holidays, birth was messy, complicated, and horrifying. Her Aunt Barbara had talked of the emergency Caesarian she had required due to high blood pressure, just to hemorrhage badly afterwards; for her grandmother Phyllis, Hermione’s mother had apparently gotten stuck and needed to be pulled out via forceps. The idea of going through such a process herself in a place without painkillers, monitors, and multiple people with medical degrees had been unfathomable.But this was not the case for her homegrown magical friends and acquaintances.“Those kinds of complications rarely, rarely happen to Omegas,” Poppy had assured her, after force-feeding her a Calming Draught when Hermione had run straight into her office, “And not too often for Betas, either, but especially Omegas. Your hormones don’t just make you more fertile, but much more likely to deliver your child – or children – safely.”“So you’re saying every Omega birth goes off without a hitch?” Hermione had asked, still skeptical.“Well, no,” Poppy conceded, “But that’s what midwives are for - like Healers, they have their own training schools. In forty years of healing, I’ve never heard of a birthing Omega or their child who hasn’t come out all right in the end.”Hermione chewed on her lip. “Does St. Mungo’s or the Ministry keep statistics on the complications that do arise, though? How often they occur, what the problem was, how it was addressed, etc.?”Poppy blinked. “Statistics? Whatever for?”Hermione made her lip bleed to stop herself from screaming at her former matron.And when, not too much later, Hermione had explained to Molly – who, despite her break-up with Ron and his subsequent travels overseas, remained a supporter of her – that Muggles had largely abandoned midwives in the 1960s as medicine became more modernized and standardize, she could tell that the older woman was trying very hard to be patient with her when she responded.“Hermione, dear, I trust you when you say that your doctors do more than just slice people up, but I need you to trust me, a woman who’s borne seven children, when I say that my midwife – you wouldn’t have known her, a classmate of mine, Julienne Birch, passed shortly after Ginny –” Here, Molly had had to blink away tears, pausing for just long enough for Hermione to be sure she should’ve done something to comfort her, but not long enough to figure out what. Molly took a breath and pasted her smile back on her face. “Anyway, she was just – just a wonder. With Bill, we were frantic, honestly - looking back on it, with my carrying on over whether everything was ready for the baby, and Arthur pretting over every grimace I made – well, we were rubbish patients, to tell you the truth. But Julienne managed to be firm and comforting at once, gave Arthur work to do, knocked some sense into me, and before I knew it, Bill was wailing on my chest while Julienne was muttering a litany of spells that I knew better than to ask what they were.”“And you recovered alright?” was the only thing Hermione could think to ask.“Oh, of course, dear. They do use magic, you know, for the physical parts - even after Fred and George, I was up on my feet with no complaints in a few days. But when your body’s been wracked with pain for hours, when you’ve been waiting to meet your child for months, when you’re convinced that no amount of pushing will get them out – there’s no magic for that, and I doubt there’s Muggle medicine, either. You need a person – someone who knows what they’re doing, but also knows you. ”Privately, Hermione had thought that Muggles had a medicine for that – it was called an epidural – but she had kept her mouth shut and took the comment in the spirit it was meant. A birth, she began to understand, was more than a medical event; it was an emotional, social, life-shifting one.And so, when Hermione acknowledged to herself that she wanted a child, even before she brought it up with Severus, she called on Molly again. And she began making a list.***Hermione’s number one criterion for a midwife was that she had never met them.When she brought this up with Severus – curled up in bed with him a few days after her heat ended and she, according to him, smelled “exquisitely pregnant” – he had disagreed with her, to put it mildly.“You wish to entrust, to a complete stranger, your health, your life, and those of our child?” He scratched out in a whisper, not unlike the one he used in class when someone had botched a potion more severely than usual, arm tightening around her slightly.“It’s not like we have a ton of options, Severus,” she said, reasonably. “The only midwife we know personally – and like – is Dean, and you can call me prudish all you want, but I overheard too many conversations between him and Seamus to ever let that man near my vagina.”Some of the tension Hermione felt in his muscles relaxed as he snorted. “Fair point,” he admitted, “But I trust you’ve envisioned some system for evaluating potential candidates?”“Of course, and you know that midwives are bound by the same magical oath to protect their patients as Healers are,” Hermione replied. “I just would prefer someone who neither is awed by me or loathes the sight of me, and from what I’ve found, the majority of candidates likely fall into one of those two camps.” She had asked Ginny and Luna for their recommendation, of course, but, incredibly, it turned out that they used Dean, despite the history.“Leaving aside that anyone who is not awed by you is more dimwitted than Longbottom was on his first day in my classroom,” Severus responded, and quickly continued before Hermione could respond with more than a blush, “Have you considered looking outside St. Mungo’s list of registered midwives?”Hermione frowned. “Well, I hardly wish to employ a midwife who is unqualified.”“Unregistered doesn’t mean unqualified, or uncredentialed, for that matter. You are aware that there are some Wizarding families who choose to homeschool their children instead of sending them to Hogwarts, correct?”“Yes?” she responded. Honestly, it wasn’t something she had ever given much thought. As a child, she couldn’t have imagined not wanting to learn magic at Hogwarts: a huge castle filled with ghosts and moving portraits, an endless library and classes that taught you how to alter reality. Looking back on her time there as an adult – and now, an expectant parent, she thought with a thrill of terror – she could understand wanting to keep one’s child at home. She alone had turned herself into a cat, been petrified, tangled with Death Eaters and meddled with Time itself - if her parents had known the half of it, Hermione was sure she wouldn’t have been allowed back after her second year.Not for the first time around this topic, she felt guilt rise up, and told herself she would call her Mum and Dad tomorrow.Ignorant of her internal rant, though she was sure he wouldn’t be surprised at it, Severus continued: “Per Minerva, there’s a larger number of homeschooled magical children than you would think – especially in the years the Dark Lord was active, and especially among half-blood families.” Hermione could not see his face from where she was, but could swear she could feel his sneer as he went on, “For these latter, I’m told, the reason often was that the Muggle parent did not wish to part with their child for the better part of seven years.”Hermione felt her heart squeeze, but she didn’t say anything; she only held Severus tighter and pressed her lips to his collarbone.“In any case,” Severus continued after clearing his throat, “The magical education of these children is, obviously, highly variable. Many continue their Muggle schooling, leaving little time for magic, and even if they don’t, one parent can only do so much, and will doubtless be stronger in some areas than others. Because of this, many employers, St. Mungo’s chief among them, will only hire or register Hogwarts graduates.”Hermione took a moment to digest this, pondering how it was related to her search for a midwife, before it came to her. “But the midwifery school – Poplar’s – doesn’t require a Hogwarts degree.”“Precisely,” Severus affirmed.Hermione’s brow furrowed. “But if all the registered midwives had to go through Poplar’s, what does it matter if they went to Hogwarts or not?”Severus sighed a sigh Hermione was very familiar with: one that indicated that he suspected she had found another Injustice to Correct. “It is likely yet another administrative oversight – one that I beg of you to please let someone else address.”“I’ll leave this one alone,” Hermione assured him. “I don’t even think I could come up with a contrived acronym for that.”(Her multiple failed attempts at creating one for St. Teneus’ were legendary enough among her colleagues that she had had to lean into the jokes or go insane. In the end, it had been a more tactical move to choose the name of the mother of St. Mungo.)Severus chuckled and pressed a kiss on her head. “As I’ve often said - I never doubt you.”“Besides, in this instance, I would like to be a little selfish,” she said, allowing her hand to fall on her stomach, even though she knew their child was barely multicellular. “And prioritize paying a visit to Poplar’s, instead.”Severus’s hand covered hers, as he asked, “Would you like me to join you?”“Do you want to?” Hermione responded, a little surprised. “Don’t mistake me - I want you there for the birth, but as I am the one, after all, delivering the baby, I figured I would make this decision on my own.”As she spoke, Hermione could hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth in relation to herself. She knew that she was undoubtedly pregnant: even after Severus had confirmed it, she couldn’t help performing the testing charm meant for Betas on herself as well. After only a few days, though, it felt bizarre to be talking about it – she knew that, like regular pregnancies, she wouldn’t feel symptoms until a few weeks in. It was only her driving need to prepare for all contingencies that had compelled her to bring it up.“I would not have expected anything else - I am more than aware that my feelings on the subject are entirely secondary, compared to your wishes and comfort.” He responded, softly but firmly. “I only wished to remind you that I am more than willing to be there for and with you, should you wish it.”Hermione nodded into his chest, feeling especially grateful for her partner’s quiet, steady support. For so much of her life, she had gone without anything quite like it: she had left her parents, essentially, at eleven, and her professors had not exactly been bastions of emotional support. Harry and Ron loved her, of course, and would walk through hell for her – but that was not the same as standing with her in the flames.For many, many reasons, it would have been impossible for the Hermione of half a decade ago to imagine that Severus Snape - the man who had seemed on the edge of boiling over with rage at any given moment, whose tongue stung anyone who dared to get too close – would be the provider of such comfort, but here they were.“I know you’ll be. And if you have any major concerns, I’ll obviously take them into consideration.” Hermione took a deep breath. “I’ll try to find a few hours I can spare from work, then, to go – probably sooner rather than later.”“You shock me,” Severus returned sarcastically, “Do try not to intimidate the students while you’re there.”“Oh, you’re one to talk!” she sputtered back.“Indeed,” Severus surrendered, moving his hands further downward, “Why are we still talking?”Rolling herself on top of him, Hermione found that she had quite forgotten.***In the end, though she had fretted silently about the likelihood of finding her own version of Molly’s midwife, her partner had pointed her in the right direction.The interviewing process had, as Hermione expected, taken a significant amount of time. Some midwives answered her questions as thoroughly as she would; others peppered Hermione herself with questions. Their demeanors were all different – some professional and no-nonsense, others peppy and encouraging, still others wise and almost mothering – but none were unpleasant, which was making what Hermione had already known was a difficult choice even moreso.Hermione was reeling from the tales of a midwife a few decades older than her that had included delivering unexpected triplets without his wand, when the next knock came at the door.“Come in,” she called, hoping she sounded only a little tired.The woman who entered appeared a bit older than her; Hermione guessed she was around thirty, and one of the youngest she had interviewed so far.“Ms. Granger, correct?” she asked warmly, as Hermione stood to shake her hand and nodded. “Excellent - my name is Lucy Turner, and please do call me by my first name.”As they took their seats, Hermione noticed that the midwife had brought in a very old, very worn, briefcase; it had been so long since she had seen one it took her a moment to recognize it for what it was.Lucy had noticed her look and grinned. “My granddad’s, originally - he and my dad were both doctors, but they both worked closely with midwives; in fact, my grandmum was one. They’ve both retired now, so they passed it on to me – luckily, I know charms that keep it usable.”Hermione sat up straight in her chair as soon as she had registered the word ‘doctor’. It was true that some of the midwives she had talked to were half-bloods, and were close with their Muggle family, but none of them, to Hermione’s knowledge, had much interaction with the non-magical world beyond that.“You’re half-blood, then?” Hermione ventured.Lucy’s lips dipped into a downturn. “Is that a problem?” she demanded, all warmth gone from her tone.“Oh Merlin, no!” Hermione was sure her voice went up a few octaves, she was so flustered. “I’m Muggleborn - if anything, I’m relieved to be talking to someone who has some knowledge of Muggle medicine.”Lucy’s grin returned. “Well, I am still a magically trained midwife, though I went through Muggle secondary schooling. But I do have some non-magical methods that I like to bring to the table. Would you like me to show you?”Hermione nodded her assent, and Lucy began to open the briefcase. Inside were piles of scrolls, some marked up with what looked like charts and graphs, written in different colored ink.Intrigued, Hermione leaned forward to get a better look as Lucy removed a few scrolls and laid them out on the table.“You’ll have to forgive me - I would have had all of this printed out nicely and neatly at home if I could have afforded a computer, but this will have to do,” the midwife said as she began to unroll one, “I hope this is the one - yes, it is!”She spun around the scroll so Hermione could read it. On the top of the parchment was what she figured was basic patient information - a name, which had been blurred out magically, date of birth, height and weight, medical history, etc. Further down were terms and numbers side by side that, at first, Hermione couldn’t make heads or tails of – until she read the word “temperature.”“You take vital signs,” Hermione said, impressed but confused. In no trip to a healer, at Hogwarts or as an adult, had anyone checked her pulse or blood pressure; with a wave of a wand, they could mend an injury or reverse the effects of a curse, or they could prescribe a potion to cure an illness. When she had commented on this to her dentist parents, they had been envious: not of the magical power, but of the lack of paperwork.“I do,” Lucy agreed, “But keep reading.”Underneath the vital signs was a meticulously drawn table, with the top row labeled one through ten. On the column side, each row was labeled with terms such as: “physical symptoms”, “mental symptoms”, “treatment given”, “vitals” “fetus measurements”, and so on. She flipped the parchment over, where she saw the top half was dominated by a few paragraphs written under the heading “Preferences for Labor and Birth”, and the bottom half by a table similar to the one on the reverse side, but labeled “postpartum.”“This is incredible, and amazingly detailed,” Hermione gushed. “But why bother? If Omegas rarely have complications, and magic can heal almost any physical injury....”Lucy shrugged. “Ms. Granger - ““Hermione, please.”“Hermione, it’s true that we can use magic to save you and your child from any complications that should arise, but I’ve made it my goal to prevent them from arriving at all. If you should develop preeclampsia, sure, I can perform an emergency Cesarean and ensure that you and baby are safe, but that doesn’t help the pain and trauma you both would have gone through to get there.”Hermione recalled Harry’s description of the bones in his arm regrowing, how he, a twelve year old, had been in agony through the night, healing. Though that was a slightly different case than giving birth, she had unconsciously assumed that pain was the price of healing and, likewise, that choosing to carry a child meant choosing to suffer.“You do this for all of your patients?” Hermione asked.“Everyone who agrees to it,” Lucy affirmed. “Some – older folks, especially - refuse to be treated via potion for personal discomfort that isn’t affecting the fetus. And I thought, initially, this was out of an understandable fear of hurting the baby –”“But,” Hermione interrupted, unable to help herself, “There have been many documented cases of Omegas using certain potions to no ill effect – anti-nausea, for example.” It had been some of the little research she could find on the subject – the testing the medieval Omega had done had hardly been ethical, but she had found testaments to its validity in other contemporary sources.“You’re absolutely right,” Lucy said sadly, “But for many Omegas, especially pureblood ones, it’s not about whether it’s safe or would ease their pain – the pain is the point. To suffer in bringing your child to the world, to sacrifice your health for them is a point of duty and pride for some - even when it’s needless.”Hermione nodded, slowly. “But you’re working to change this?”Lucy sighed. “I am – one patient at a time. My colleagues are verbally supportive, but I know they don’t think I’ll be able to make much headway against hundreds of years of tradition. But I was raised on the idea that if you have it in your power to help just one person suffer less, you do it – does that make sense? Or do you think I’m a naive optimist?”“What I think,” Hermione said, without any hesitation. “Is that you and I are going to have an excellent patient and professional relationship.”