Chapter 21
Gods, I look fat. I am naked, standing sideways in front of my mirror. I look fat. I know that it's the baby, but I'm at that stage where I'm showing but not enough to tell a stranger on the street that I am indeed with child. I look horrid. My skin is oily. My hair is frizzy, not just bushy, but frizzy. I look like an electrocuted beached whale. That about sums it up. No, I'm an electrocuted beached whale with oily skin. Hmph.
My gaze moves over to where Harry is walking in from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist while he's towel-drying his hair. He is so sexy. At that moment, he drops the towel from his head and flashes me that heartstopping crooked smile. His hair is messier than usual, his eyes are sparkling, his skin glistening from the water lazily trailing down his body. Ugh. I don't know what it is about that man that makes me turn into a bowl of jelly, but Gods, don't ever change it.
He comes up behind me and rests his chin on my head. I turn to look at our reflection. We look good together - the sexy Adonis and the beached whale. I meet his gaze in the mirror. "You all right, love?" I love when he calls me that.
Before I even think of another response, I ask, "Harry, am I fat?"
Oh gods, did I just ask him what I think I just did? Damn these hormones. I know that's what it is. I look at the mirror again. Why is he smiling? I half want to slap that smile off his bloody face. He's still smiling. You better answer my question, Mr. Potter.
"Love, you're not fat. You are beautiful." Yeah, whatever. He runs his hand softly down my naked belly. "'Mione, you are pregnant. There's a baby in here. Our baby. You look beautiful. You're hair seems fuller and its getting longer from the vitamins. And you seem to have this glow about you. You're gorgeous." Glow? Yeah, that's the light reflecting off my oily skin.
I roll my eyes as he smiles again. He better stop mocking me. I swear I will hex him. I push away from him and start to get dressed. He just stands there and watches me. He is watching me like I'm some scantily clad dancer or something. Not quite. I'm almost four months pregnant, with varicose veins, stretchmarks, sausage fingers and a face that looks like I got beat up.
"What?" I ask him irritably.
"Just admiring the view, love." That smile will be the death of me. Really.
I finish getting dressed and he is still standing there in a towel. "No matter how much I love to see you in next to nothing, are you going to get dressed anytime soon? We have to be at Healer Morningstar's office in ten minutes." Men. Driven completely by testosterone. I look at the tent being made of the towel. All I was doing was getting dressed and he's turned on. My god.
I leave him to dress and I waddle downstairs for some tea, herbal of course, a little cream a little sugar. I sip it slowly as I wait to hear Harry's footsteps on the stairs. Harry. If you would have told me four months ago that I would be pregnant with Harry's baby, I would have laughed my arse off. But, you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. I have never felt happier in my entire life. I don't ever remember being this sick before, but I am happy.
My pregnancy with Arthur was easy; nine uncomplicated months ending one day before the due date. I only had 5 hours of labor. Easy. Candace was a different story. She was born two weeks early and a knot in her umbilical cord. We almost lost her, but Healer Morningstar worked his magic, so to speak. He had her out in less than thirty seconds. After a shaky few moments she pinked up and cried.
This one I think is going to be my hellion. I have been sick for three months straight. I am swollen and I'm showing already. I know the conception date is right. That was the only time I had sex in six months. How can I doubt that? I hope the healer will be able to tell me what's going on today. My hormones are out of whack. I am so damned emotional. I swear I cried at not finding a match to a sock yesterday. I feel like I am losing my mind.
I hear Harry before he enters the kitchen. He is whistling. How can he be so damned cheery? He makes me sick sometimes. I love him, but he still makes me sick.
"Ready to go, love?" I nod and dump the tea down the drain. He wraps his arms around me and we apparate to the Healer's office. I can't apparate by myself, being pregnant and all. Don't want to get splinched, you know.
Harry goes to the desk and checks us in. I look around at all the very pregnant women in the room and realize that I'm still small, comparatively speaking. Well, that can go one of two ways. Either, 'Oh my gods I'm still so much smaller than them and already feel like a beached whale, what will I feel like later?' or 'Well, I can still touch my toes, can you?'
He sees me smiling and kisses my cheek. We sit silently people-watching. We do that a lot. I guess since we always had the spotlight focused on us as defeaters of Voldemort, it's nice to look at others for a while. I lean my head against Harry's shoulder and slowly drift off to sleep. I am so tired lately.
"Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger." I sit up at our names. I try not to notice the strange glances we get. I'm not sure if it's because of our famous names, or if it's that we have different last names, meaning an illegimate child, *GASP*. They can all just sod off.
The mediwitch hands me a gown and tells me to get undressed. Harry helps me with my coat and starts to help undress me. His fingers glide down the buttons of my blouse. His strong hands wrap around me to unclasp my bra. As his hand dip down my sides, I tell him to stop. I can't take it.
"You better be glad I don't have you take me right here on the exam table." I say as I finish undressing and put the gown on.
"Why should I be glad? Maybe I want to take you on the exam table." Cheeky bastard.
Before he can even try to get any more ideas in his head Healer Morningstar comes in the room. Healer Morningstar is an older wizard. Not quite as old as Dumbledore was, but a bit older than Mad Eye. He is gentle and sweet. He reminded me of Albus when I first saw him with Arthur. I think that's why I am so comfortable with him.
"Ah, Mrs. Weasley. It's been a while."
I see Harry tense up slightly. I grab his hand in reassurance. "Actually, its Ms. Granger, now, sir."
He looks up from his chart and eyes Harry and I. "My apologies. Ms. Granger. I had no idea. I'm sorry."
"I'm not," I say under my breath. I think Harry heard me because he squeezed my hand a little after I said it.
"Hello, I'm Healer Morningstar." The aged wizard extended his hand to Harry. Harry, being the ever-polite gentleman that he is, shakes the man's hand and smiles.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. Harry Potter."
The look on the healers face is classic. His eyes dart to the famous scar and he looks dumbfounded for a moment. Harry's used to this. Many people act like this when they meet him.
"M - Mr. Potter, sir. It's my pleasure." The old man is shaking Harry's hand so hard, I think his arms going to fall off. I clear my throat to get the attention back on the pregnant lady that is sitting here with a draft going up my bum.
"Oh, sorry, dear. Lay back and let's have a look see."
Harry watches the healers hands roam just above my skin and looks nervous. I squeeze his hand letting him know that everything is fine and he eases a bit.
"Hmmm… curious…" The healer days and Harry leans down and asks me if he's related to Mr. Ollivander. I don't think so, but what does that have to do with anything?
"What's curious?" I ask after a few more silent moments.
Healer Morningstar looks up at me and smiles. "Well, you are measuring quite a bit larger than what is expected for 14 weeks and I am getting a strange heart rhythm." I look at him confused. Harry looks utterly terrified. "In fact, I think I am hearing two heartbeats."
"Two?" Harry and I ask at the same time. The healer nods and waves his wand over my swollen belly. A picture emerges of two bald babies curled up around each other. I see four feet and four hands. One of them is sucking his or her thumb. Oh, definitely his thumb. I can feel the tears trailing down my cheeks. Twins. I look up at Harry who is staring in awe at the picture of our children. Two boys. No wonder Arthur knew so soon. He was reading two of them.
"Well, that explains a lot," I tease through my tears. Harry squeezes my hand and kisses me lightly on the forehead.
"Well, these little men look perfect. Congratulations."
"Thank you," Harry says in a daze. I smile up at the healer. He gives me instructions to watch my salt intake, drink lots of water, blah, blah, blah. I've done this twice already; I know what I'm supposed to do.
"Well, I'll leave the two of you to clean up. You may get dressed Ms. Granger. Thank you and congratulations again."
I sit up and look at Harry. He is staring dumbly at my belly. "Two," he whispers.
I lift his chin so he is looking at me. "Yes, two." He smiles then and my heart skips a beat. "Two boys."
"Yeah, two boys." I have never seen Harry like this. I pull him to me and wrap my arms around him.
"Thank you, love."
I pull back to look at him. "Why are you thanking me, Harry?"
He sighs and that crooked smile creeps up again. "For everything, 'Mione. For loving me, for my sons, for… you."
I can't help but smile. "You're welcome. But I think you had something to do with the twins. I seem to remember… four times that night." We laugh together. I am happy. My life is so full right now and I wouldn't dream of changing a thing.