Just a quick oneshot I've had bouncing around for awhile. Read and Review please!

A short woman, with a wild mass of brown unruly locks, held a weeping boy to her chest, face buried in his silky black curls. The faint scent of mint shampoo with notes of sandalwood tickled her nostrils. It was not often that Hermione Granger had to comfort him in this way, but when she did it usually involved a visit to his father.

It had been a little more than eleven years since that last, horrific battle. She supposed she got on quite well- buying The Diagon Alley branch of Flourish and Blotts had been quite a good investment, one that brought home the money necessary for raising a child. But even the joys of motherhood had not totally removed Hermione Granger's lingering post-traumatic stress disorder. The lovely thing about being a Muggleborn, she thought, was that you ha access to the knowledge of all sorts of illnesses the Wizarding world was utterly unaware of. Yes, she was quite confident it was the after effects from the war- and really, when had she ever been wrong? There was no better explanation for the nights she awoke covered in sheen of sweat, clutching her wand before rolling over and returning to a restless slumber.

There were the heart stopping moments when she would see someone in a crowd who resembled a long dead enemy, and though the knowledge it couldn't be them was there, her throat would still close up, and the rest of the world would fade into blurry sights and muffled sounds. Walking anywhere alone at night was out of the question. Green lights still alarmed her, as did loud noises. Once a large chunk of concrete fell out of the ceiling in her storage room at the bookstore, and she'd spent the next 75 minutes curled on the floor waiting for what she had thought was imminent death.

It had been hard, very hard to recover after all she had witnessed at the Final Battle. Even harder for her than Harry and Ron, surprising as it was. But the both of them had someone. A significant other to share their pain with, whilst she was left to suffer with her's alone.

"I think a special trip is in order." she murmured softly into his hair. "Get your cloak on."

With a great sniffle and watery smile he fled the sitting room. Gently lowering herself onto the settee she waved her wand, charming her hair into a smooth plait. Her fingers knotted and twisted about in her lap, the fireplace throwing light onto the small diamond ring worn on her left hand. Moments later, he reappeared in front of her, ready to go. She stepped into the floo with him and pinched some powder out of the decorative bowl on the mantle, calling out "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Head's office!" the two swirled upwards, and some minutes later exited safely at their destination. There was a slight pause, before a cool male voice said "I had been, ah, wondering when your next...visit would be."

THE DAILY PROPHET

Kilian Alexander Granger was born yesterday at approximately 11:17 PM. Weighing in at 3 kilogrammes, and 48 centimetres, he is the first child of Hermione Jean Granger, aged 20 from use of a Time Turner, and one of the famed members of the Golden Trio. Granger has yet to disclose who the father is.


It was revealed last night to our reporter that the father of Hermione Granger's child is Severus Tobias Snape, deceased double agent and war hero. These drunken allegations, made by Ronald Weasley, were confirmed to the Prophet by Miss Granger herself. More on the story in the Evening Prophet.


As reported in the Daily Prophet, former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Severus Snape, is the father of Hermione Jean Granger's son. According to Granger's physician, the baby was conceived somewhere between late March and early April, with Ms. Granger confirming that the affair began in February of that year up until the night of Snape's demise. Granger has also stated that she was well aware of the plot between Snape and Dumbledore, and would never have taken up with him if she had any doubts.


"I believe Kilian needs some time with his father." She answered back. Severus arched his painted brow, and poked his head into Dumbledore's frame.

"We shall continue our discussion later." he sneered at the twinkly eyed headmaster. Kilian had already scurried over to the large chair kept in the corner of the Heads office, directly in front of Snape's portrait. He crossed his arms, watching his father's jostling progress through the paintings intensely.

"Albus, is Minerva here? I'd like to give them some time..." Hermione gestured towards the corner.

"I believe she's in the Transfiguration classroom." he smiled down at her benevolently. "I'll send someone after you once they're done."

Snape watched dispassionately as she walked out of the office. Turning his head towards Kilian, he leaned forward in the dark green wingback, steepling his fingers.

"You've been crying." it wasn't a question. Kilian nodded in assent, drawing his knees up

.

"I just wish...Mum and I were at the Potters earlier." He flared his nostrils slightly. Snape smirked at this-clearly his son had inherited a dislike for Potter and his spawn.

"I can't stand how they look at me." He clenched his fists. "As if I'm in something to be pitied because I haven't got a father like the rest of them. Because my father is a painting." He spat.

Snape sighed quietly. Kilian was mature beyond his years. His child deserved much, much more than a father who was eternally preserved in an oil painting. Perhaps it would have been better for them all if Hermione had never brought Kilian to meet him. It was painful enough for her as it was- Severus didn't know about her, but he retained the love that grew every day. Before his death, he had assumed that the portraits were simply a preservation, an imprint of what a person had been. His…displeasure in discovering that he was essentially a ghost, but confined to canvas was enormous.

"Father?" Kilian's voice entered his thoughts.

"I apologise." He inclined his head slightly. "It may be true that I am not a father in the physical sense, but I will always be here for you son. Always."

"I know." He replied quietly. The two never had in depth, emotional conversations. They weren't needed. Son understood father perfectly in that regard.

"Good." Snape returned to his usual tone. "Now, tell me how your potions studies are coming along."

Severus leaned back, content to listen to his son's excited chatter about brewing a Shrinking Solution with no assistance from his mother.

Some 2 hours later, Hermione cracked open the office door, smiling benevolently at her sons sleeping form. She crept towards the chair, ready to levitate him home, until she was cut off.

"Does he always look so peaceful when he sleeps?" Snape's black silk voice asked her quietly.

He was studying his son intently, taking in every curl, eyelash, and fingernail. He had seen his son at many different times before, but never while he was asleep. It occurred to him this was the part of being a father that he may have liked the most. Watching your child, knowing they're at peace, safe inside their dreams where nothing and no one can harm them.

"I know you're there, Hermione."

"Severus." She answered quietly. "How are things?"

"As well as can be for a portrait." He answered stiffly. She smiled at him, a quick flash in his direction, but still a smile nonetheless.

"He looks like you."

Snape grunted noncommittally.

"He has your nose, thank the gods."

"He's getting tall, did you notice?"

"Yes."

"It's been awhile." She muttered.

"That it has; fear not, I also would avoid a very lifelike portrait of my ex-lover."

"I don't avoid you, you bloody fool! I just can't stand being around you"

"Almost the same thing." He smirked. "I was right."

"It's not that I want to Severus, it's because I still love you."

He fell silent. An admission of feelings he had assumed were no longer there was not what he had been expecting.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head. "I have to get Kilian home."

Snape watched silently as she levitated the boy out of the chair and towards the Floo. As she stepped into the fireplace, he cleared his throat and called out "Hermione? I return the sentiment."

She smiled back at him, familiarity at his usual ways to skirt around saying the actual words lifting her up.

"We'll see you soon, Severus."

That's all she wrote. Thanks for reading. I'll be posting more oneshots and a few multichaptered fics soon, I recently managed to recover the writings I lost when my computer crashed. Much love to you all