Ten

Ten

Ten.

A number every parent wants to hear. Yet I believed it would never matter to me. I would never be a parent.

Why would I want to screw up another generation of Snapes?

But then my life was turned upside down as Albus asked for just one last favour form me. Marry a Muggle-born, Hermione Granger.

Who ever would have imagined we would become such good friends, and then such a good couple? Especially as a result of an asinine marriage law.

Of course it didn't hurt that she had a body most men would kill for, not that Lucius didn't try. He should have known how possessive I am, even if we were not yet married then.

Our union, complicated though it had been had certainly become easier with the demise of the Dark Lord. But within a few months there was another complication, one that was much smaller and was welcome. Hermione was pregnant.

There were so many mixed reactions; I still cannot believe that Weasley attempted to hex me, an ex-Death Eater. Hermione however was over the moon with her happiness.

I was unsure and though I didn't admit it then, scared. I was scared beyond belief.

I didn't know how to be a parent; Merlin knows I did not have such a shining example of parenting in either of my parents.

But now, holding our little girl in my arms, watching her eye lids flutter just slightly as she sleeps. Her hands are held up near her chest, softly curled, I can slip my finger in one of her hands but it's too big to fit properly.

I gently lower her to Hermione's bed; she is already fast asleep after her tiring labour. I gently unwrap our little girl form her blankets and see her, wearing a soft pink baby suit.

I tenderly trace his fingers over her dark, black hair. It was already so thick, just like Hermione's. My finger continued down the side of her face, following the line of her nose. She had Hermione's nose, only on a much smaller scale.

I gently move my finger down her nose and after passing her soft, rosy cheeks I outline the outer shell of her ear. They were really quite comical; they were too big for her face. However one of the books Hermione forced me to read said that she would grow into them.

It must have been a sensitive spot for she opened her eyes but surprisingly did not cry, her obsidian eyes, already full of warmth, stared up at me. I can hardly believe she's here, after so long. I also couldn't help but think she was the most beautiful baby ever.

She blinks at me, not all that unlike an owl. Her black eyelashes will no doubt attract a good many suitors, but I will protect her from the more unscrupulous ones.

She gently waved her arms and I was once again entranced by her fingers. To think that one day she would be able to grasp his hand in hers. They were so tiny and yet nothing could be more perfect.

My eyes were drawn to her small stomach; it was already chubby, just like any other baby's. Yet it had a charm all its own, I no longer misunderstood why parents called it a tummy, for nothing that cute could be a stomach.

From her tummy I looked down her body to her small feet and toes. Another ten. Ten perfect toes, even smaller then hr fingers.

Our perfect baby girl, our little Seraphina.

Our baby was the first born after defeating the Dark Lord. Besides being part of Hermione's and my own happiness she gave the rest of the wizarding world hope.

Hope for a future free of fear and danger.

After all, there must be hope after such terror and fear if even Severus Snape can't resist a baby.

THE END