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"I received your owl." Severus unfolds the parchment with an audible snap; Harry’s surprised it doesn’t rip in the process. "At St. Mungo’s. No need to come. Be home shortly. I realise a visit to St. Mungo’s is commonplace for you, but a bit more information would be appreciated in the future."
"I’m fine—"
"An hour into your shift, and already shipped off to hospital. Did you rush into an early morning raid without your partner?"
"Severus—"
"Bet Weasley on which of you could take the most stunners?"
"Come on—"
"Challenged Malfoy to a duel after he snatched the last cup of coffee?"
"That was just the once!"
"Your job is dangerous enough without this foolish nonsense, and I don’t appreciate being told that I can’t visit my husband when he’s at St. Mungo’s."
"Would it make you feel better to know that I’m being taken out of the field?"
Severus’ frown turns soft. "Were you suspended?"
"No." Harry shifts closer and braves a tentative smile. "I requested a transfer."
"For how long?"
"Oh…a few months, at least." Harry slips his hand into Severus’ and brings them both to his stomach. "I’m pregnant."
"You’re pregnant?"
"Yes. Still cross with me?"
"Yes," Severus says, but a dawning light fills his eyes. He gazes at their joined hands on Harry’s stomach with wonder.
"Will that stop you from celebrating with me?" Harry murmurs.
"No." With a glimmer of a smile, Severus tugs Harry’s hand and pulls him toward their bedroom.
~
Harry finishes, panting, his heels relaxing where they've been digging into Severus' shoulders. His hand falls away from his own cock. Severus is close. Harry reaches up and pushes the hair out of Severus' face, bunching it at the nape of his husband's neck and holding it there.
Severus comes on a small, choked groan. Harry smiles up at him. Their gazes meet. Harry eases his legs from where they've been draped, and Severus collapses next to him.
Harry rolls to his side, facing him. "It worked."
"You're addled by your own afterglow. Give it an hour, Harry."
Harry cups Severus’ jaw. "No. It worked."
Severus frowns. "You're certain?"
Harry nods.
"How can you be? It would take an extraordinary sensitivity to fertility magic in order to—"
Harry surges forward and kisses away his remaining words. Severus tilts his head and deepens it. When he pulls back, his voice is rough. "You're certain." The questioning tone is gone. He grabs Harry and hauls him close. Harry laughs.
"Turn over," Severus tells him solemnly.
Harry manoeuvres, his back to Severus' front. Severus kisses the nape of Harry's neck. Harry closes his eyes. Severus' hand descends to his belly and rests there, warm.
Harry turns his head to try to see his face. "We're going to give Jackson a… little sister," he finishes, only then realising that, this too, he knows.
Severus' arms tighten around him protectively.
Harry lays his head on the pillow, too happy to do anything but laugh.
~
The orchestra begins a new waltz. Harry lifts his napkin to his mouth and attempts to belch politely. It comes out as though he's been Sonorused.
Severus leans close. The smell of his soap, that Harry usually finds enticing, is positively repellant. "Are you all right?"
"Sweet Merlin," Harry gasps. "Whatever you do, don't eat the fish."
Severus frowns. "Dry as it may be, I've found it to be palatable." He pokes it his with a fork, making a high-pitched scraping sound against the china.
"Bloody hell, don't do that."
"What? Compliment the chef?"
Harry turns incredulous eyes on him. "That was a compliment? Blast, these trousers are tight."
"Pray, do not unfasten them here. We're not at the Burrow, Harry."
"I think I have to."
Before he can, his plate disappears, and pudding takes its place.
"Oh all mighty fuck."
"You're green. Perhaps we should—"
"Oh god!" There's no time. The contents of his stomach rebel. Harry grabs the nearest vessel, a centerpiece of Asphodel flowers, and vomits into it spectacularly.
Severus gasps beside him. "Merlin, you're not… Are you?"
Harry lifts his head and can only nod miserably.
Severus' voice goes soft. "Let's get you home."
Harry wants to weep with gratitude.
Severus Banishes the centerpiece. They rise, Severus' hand at Harry's back. No sooner have they turned, though, than Celestina Warbeck walks by, and something in her perfume…
"Oh shit." Harry grabs for his husband's silk robes, leans forward, and pukes all over Celestina's glittering heels.
~
Severus fiddles with his napkin. It’s a nervous habit; likely no one else would notice. But for a man who is usually beautifully composed when they’re out in public, it’s oddly endearing. Harry lays his hand on Severus’ and squeezes him still.
"They’ll be fine."
"Perhaps I should Floo again to check on them."
"Ron and Hermione are more than capable of taking care of our kids for a few hours."
Severus eyes him skeptically from across the table.
"They have two of their own—perfectly healthy I might add."
"Hugo likes to chew on Rose’s hair; if he’s touched a hair on Lilianna’s, I’ll—"
"You’ll what? Hex a two-year old?"
"Perhaps."
Harry laughs. "Have some wine. Relax. It’s been ages since we’ve been out, just the two of us."
"Very well." Severus acquiesces, but the tension only starts to drain from his shoulders after he takes a sip.
"Elvin wine, 1903. I ordered the bottle."
"One of my favourites." Severus takes another sip and closes his eyes, savouring. It’s a stirring sight. Harry wishes they’d stayed home for dinner.
That is until Severus’ eyes snap open.
"We’re not having another child."
"Er."
"We agreed to stop at three, and we can barely manage to—" Severus stops short. His eyes fall to Harry’s empty, untouched wine glass. "You’re not having any."
"No."
Severus sinks back in his chair. "You’re already pregnant."
"Surprise?"
Severus palms his face. Harry moves to his side and rubs his back soothingly.
"We’ll stop at four. Promise."
~
Harry gazes at the tracks until the train disappears around the bend and the chug of its engines fades beneath the bustle of the crowded platform.
"The last one to Hogwarts," he murmurs.
"She was a mere infant just yesterday." Severus’ hair lifts with the breeze that flows through station. It’s all grey now, barely a hint of black remains. Harry can see all four of their children in the lines around his mouth, his eyes, darting across his forehead. The laughter, the frustration. The joy.
"She’ll be back for the holidays. They all will."
"Jackson wishes to spend his with the Malfoy child."
"Really?"
"He’s been afraid to ask. Wishes me to ‘butter you up’ first." Severus quirks a smile.
"I’ll look forward to that." Harry grins and takes his husband’s hand as they amble towards the exit along with other parents. A small girl zooms in front of them, nearly crashing headlong into Severus before spinning on her heel and zipping the other way. A man with messy brown hair and a crooked tie stumbles along after her.
"Reminds me of Ainsley," Harry says.
"Reminds me of you," Severus counters.
"Touche´." Harry squeezes Severus’ hand. "You know, we could always have another."
Severus jerks to an abrupt stop. His grip tightens. "You’re not…"
Harry enjoys Severus’ wide eyes of panic for a moment before he shakes his head. "No, I’m not pregnant."
Severus lets out an audible sigh of relief.
"But two weeks in a quiet, empty house, I bet you’ll wish I was."
"Doubtful."
"Mm-hm. You’ll be slipping me fertility potions."
"At your age, you’ll need them."
"So you are thinking about it, then?" Harry teases.
"I would be amenable to the idea of practice." Severus’ eyes glint brightly in the sunlight as they leave the station and head across the alley to their Apparition point. Harry pulls him close, unable to resist giving him a kiss. A small one, as Severus was never much of an exhibitionist, but one full of promise.
"We’ll have plenty of time for that."
-fin-