WARNING: This is a slash story, which means it contains male/male erotic content involving consenting adults. If you're not of legal age or are offended by such material, please go find something else to read.
In a Delicate Way
Even through the heavy wood door of the dungeon classroom, Snape could hear raised voices, which were growing louder as he grew closer. He quickened his steps, his midnight hued robes billowing in his wake as he strode down the hall, a frown darkening his already forbidding features. The lines around his hawkish nose and thin-lipped mouth deepened, and he was already deducting points in his mind.
Not surprisingly, Draco Malfoy's voice rose enough to be audible as Snape closed his long, thin fingers around the cold brass doorhandle.
"You won't get away with that, Potter!"
"I didn't do anything! It was--"
But whatever denial Potter had been about to make was lost forever. At that moment, Snape flung the door open just in time to see Malfoy raise his wand, aiming it at Potter.
As much as he wanted to blame Potter for whatever was going on, the use of magic by students against each other was strictly prohibited, and Snape couldn't overlook this potential transgression, even by a student from Slytherin.
"Malfoy!" he bellowed, startling the young man, who whirled around, the curse already formed on his lips.
"Hermaphrodito!" The word was immediately followed by a horrified gasp that was echoed by every other student in the room as an electric blue bolt of light shot out of Malfoy's wand and struck Snape, impacting his midsection hard enough to send him staggering into the wall.
Snape braced himself against the chilly stone, willing himself not to slide down the wall into a limp heap in front of his students. He would not be so weak, even though he felt as if his abdomen was being turned inside out. Agonizing pain rippled through him, and he couldn't hold back a low moan as he clutched his wand and resisted the urge to use it on Malfoy, who was white-faced and wide-eyed, terror clear to read in his ice blue eyes.
"S-sir?" Hermione Granger approached, stretching out one hand hesitantly. "Are you all right?"
"Back to your seat, Miss Granger," he grated through clenched teeth. "Malfoy, to the Headmaster's office." Malfoy didn't move, only stood staring at him, as if transfixed. "NOW, boy. I'll add my report to yours later, and they had better match."
Malfoy fled. Surprisingly, there were no snickers from the Gryffindor students.
Snape drew himself up as much as he could and addressed the rest of the class. "Potter, go with him. The Headmaster will be interested to know how this began -- as will I. The rest of you, go. Class is dismissed."
Only after everyone had left the room, some hurrying out without looking back and some lingering with concern in their expressions as if they wanted to offer help, did Snape sink to the floor, panting and clutching his stomach. He knew of the curse Malfoy had used; it was painful, involving certain bodily transformations, but it wasn't life-threatening. Merely a potential embarrassment if any of his students decided to do follow-up research.
Still, as soon as the pain had faded enough for him to stand and walk, he went straight to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey gave him a thorough examination -- and that was an unexpected and unwelcome new experience in certain ways -- and pronounced him well enough to retire to his own quarters rather than having to stay in the infirmary overnight.
"It's just a little transformation," she said, reaching out as if to pat his shoulder reassuringly, but pulling it back when she saw the look on his face. "You'll have both... ehm... sets for 36 hours at most, and then the... ehm... extra... ehm... parts will... ehm... reabsorb." She blushed bright red as she stammered her way through the explanation; Snape merely stared at her, stone-faced.
"There's nothing to be done about hurrying along the process?" he asked, and she shook her head.
"It's a low level curse, but quite tenacious. I'd hesitate to counteract it, in the event some rather nasty side effects popped up."
It took about a second for all the possible "nasty side effects" that could occur in conjunction with this particular curse to crowd into Snape's mind, and he decided waiting it out was the best solution after all.
Mustering all the dignity at his disposal, he swept out of the infirmary and along the winding corridors and down the stairs to his dungeon, ignoring all questioning looks and curious stares along the way.
But 24 hours passed, and nothing changed.
Thirty-six hours passed, and the "extra parts," as Madam Pomfrey had so delicately put it, had yet to reabsorb.
After 48 hours, Snape went back to the infirmary to consult with her once more. She frowned and tutted over him, giving him a far more thorough examination that nearly brought a sting of embarrassment to his own cheeks.
"Oh, dear me, I just don't understand it," she said, consulting one scroll or spellbook after another. "The effects of the curse should have been gone by now. It's a short-term curse that wears off naturally, and considering it was administered by a student, well, it shouldn't have had nearly enough strength to last this long. Unless..."
She gave him a long, shrewd look.
"Tell me, Professor Snape, did you happen to... ehm... experiment with anyone at all?"
Snape glared at her, drawing himself up to his full height. "I hardly think that's any of your business."
"I see... One more test, then."
A snap of rubber gloves -- Snape winced at the sound -- and a most undignified test later, and Madam Pomfrey crowed with triumph.
"A-ha! That's got it! Professor Snape, they haven't reabsorbed because they can't. You're using them."
Snape felt his jaw in danger of hitting the floor.
"You're using those new parts, and you will continue to use them for another nine months or so," she told him again, a gleam of mirth in her eyes. "Congratulations, Professor, you're pregnant."