Summary: Hermione and Severus share a light, albeit untidy and seriously unhygienic, moment in their son's nursery.
What Happens in the Nursery Stays in the Nursery (G; Snermione, OMC; 830 words): The prompt was laughter.
Hermione should have been reviewing status reports, but one of the "benefits" of taking a long maternity leave was that she had the time to catch up on other things, such as the laundry. Severus was usually tidy and good about doing his share of the housework, but it never seemed to occur to him that towels were part of the laundry. Shifting the heavy basket she carried to her other hip, she paused at the top of the stairs to eavesdrop on the nursery, where Severus was watching Sebastian.
The man was a worrywart of the worst order; it was only a slight fever, but Severus had refused to leave their son's side since they'd discovered Sebastian's temperature early that morning—and of course he'd been unable to leave the nursery for his own tea, which Hermione had twice brought to him. Not so coincidentally, on both occasions, Hermione had entered the room to find that her son required a nappy change. She'd been rather terse the second time she'd brought up Severus' tea, bringing a pot that time and telling him that the next nappy change was his responsibility.
At least he's feeding him, Hermione thought.
Molly and Arthur had given them an over-the-shoulder nursing bladder, which to give Severus credit, he didn't mind using—as long as there were no witnesses. Given that the only sound emanating from the nursery was that of Sebastian's singing fairy light mobile, Hermione suspected that Severus was feeding the baby. Pleased, she continued towards the bedroom.
"Severus!" Hermione exclaimed, dropping the laundry and returning the way she'd come. "We've talked about your swearing. I know he's only a baby, but—"
She stopped short at the sight that greeted her: Severus standing over Sebastian, who was on his changing table. Severus, with pee dripping off his nose. He turned at her entrance, his eyes dark as if daring her to say anything, and glared.
"He pissed on me! Your son pissed on me!"
"Our son has impeccable aim," Hermione replied, begin to shake from the effort of suppressing her laughter.
Severus opened his mouth to speak, and Sebastian took aim again: it was a direct hit.
"Argh!" Severus shouted, one hand holding the baby steady while the other scrubbed at his mouth.
It was too much for Hermione; she really couldn't help it. She laughed out loud, laughed so hard that she doubled over.
"It's not funny!"
"It . . . it is . . . it is funny," she assured him, her laughter making her unsteady. It's so funny that—fuck!"
As Hermione backed into and fell over the nappy pail, which discharged several unclean cloths upon her, it was Severus' turn to laugh—except that he didn't; he sniggered.
"Get these off me! This is disgusting!"
Severus, by now having summoned a towel and having had the brilliant idea of folding the nappy upon which Sebastian was laying over his genitals, continued to laugh. "Not so funny . . . is it, your son . . . pissing on me?"
"You impossible bastard. Would you help?" Hermione demanded, although she had already managed to pick herself up and was hastily attempting wandless cleaning charms.
As she finished and Severus' gleeful chuckles died down, she saw again how wet his fringe had become and started to giggle again. It was funny. She was standing there covered in shit, Severus, in piss, and both of them were still laughing.
"Oh, Merlin, Severus. I'm so damn tired."
"Watch your language in front of my boy, woman," he replied, successfully pinning Sebastian's nappy and then picking him up.
"Give him here," Hermione demanded, stretching out her arms.
After casting a quick Scourgify on her, Severus did, and then he laid an arm over her shoulder. "We smell."
"Yes," Hermione replied, pulling back from Severus' embrace a bit. "We really do."
Severus stepped back and cast cleaning charms for himself, the occasional snort escaping him while Hermione cooed over their son.
"You'll be giggling like a loon for days over this—no matter that it never happened.
"I'll be too busy with my reports to remember something that never happened, of course. Isn't that right, Squirt?"
"You will not call him that."
"Just did," Hermione said, her mouth twitching as she tried not to smile.
Severus glared at her, or tried very hard too, at least; his eyes were still too merry for her to take his stern words seriously.
"Oh, don't worry. You know I'd never tell anyone that you laughed."
His eyes widening in surprise, Severus burst out laughing again, and Hermione grinned. It wasn't quite as rare as it had once been, her husband's laughter, but she and Sebastian were the only ones who got to share it with him.
"They'd . . . they'd never believe you," he said, when he was calmer and leaning in for a kiss.
"Ew. Er, Severus? Perhaps you'd go brush away the residue of your son's good aim."
And that, it seemed, was one cleaning task which Severus didn't seem to mind at all.