Chapter 31
Breathe. In. Out. Inhale. Exha… Ow! Son of a bitch! How in the hell can I breathe when my hand is being crushed into a million pieces? I never knew my wife was so strong. I fight the tears that are welling up from the pain radiating from my hand up my arm. Concentrate man. You can do this. Women have babies everyday, and their husbands survive. Yeah, but they don't have one of the most powerful witches as their wife.
My wife. I look down into her lovely face, which is now scrunched up and sweaty from all the exertion of her contractions. Her hair is matted against her head and she has horrendous circles under eyes. She is beautiful; scary as hell, but still beautiful. How could I not think she is beautiful when she is giving birth to my sons?
The contraction eases up along with her ferocious grip on my hand. I slowly ease my hand away to crack the knuckles and stretch the aching joints. She notices and looks at me with those big brown puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry Harry. I'm not hurting you am I?"
"Oh no, love. My hand was just getting a bit cramped from holding on to you so hard. I hope I'm not hurting you." Good one, if I do say so myself. No use making her feel bad when she is in so much pain already.
"No, Harry, you're not hurting me, but your sons sure as hell are." She sends me a weak smile before her eyes give into fatigue and close. She's been having contractions now for eight hours. I know she has to be exhausted. Every two minutes between contractions, she lets her eyes close to rest.
I kiss her softly on her sweaty forehead before wiping it off with a cloth. I feel so bad that she has to go through all this. But I guess, in the end it will be worth it to hold our babies. I just hate to see her hurting. I remember during our seventh year when she was hit by a stray spell in Duelling. I can't remember who or what the curse was, all I can remember is Hermione writhing in pain in a bed in the hospital wing for three days. I had stayed with her through most of it, even though I was underneath my invisibility cloak. She was dating Ron, it wouldn't have looked good for me to be with her more than her boyfriend, now would it?
I am brought out of my musings by her hand searching for mine. I brace myself for the painful squeeze and she doesn't let me down. I try to whisper encouraging words in her ear like, "You're doing great, love," or "It's almost over, " and "I love you." She keeps her eyes closed this time. This one's longer than the last. Breathe. In. Out.
As the pain in my hand subsides, I look up to see Healer Morningstar entering the room. "Well, how are we?"
Hermione opens her eyes and shoots the Healer the worst death glare I have ever seen her give. He chuckles and winks at me. "Madam Potter, you are doing wonderful. Your sons will be here soon. Lets just see how they are doing."
I watch fascinated as he waves his wand over her belly and watch the glow in her womb deepen as another contraction builds. Before I can focus on the floating picture of my babies, I watch as the Healer lifts the sheets and looks between my wife's legs. OK, I'm not sure if I really like that aspect of the whole ordeal. I don't feel comfortable with anyone looking there unless it's me.
Oh bloody hell! Now his hand has disappeared under the sheet. What the hell does he think he's doing? I look at Hermione who seems oblivious to what is happening down below. What the hell is going on?! I clear my throat rather rudely at the Healer. The man looks up and smiles at me. He fucking smiles at me.
"Well, she's at ten centimeters. I think its time to start pushing these boys out," he says. A sudden sense of panic overshadows any hatred I felt for this man who had looked at and felt my wife's nether regions. My son's are about to be born. I look up at my beautiful wife. She smiles as best she can, considering the circumstances. God, I love this woman.
Healer Morningstar guides me up to sit behind Hermione on the bed. "Harry, you're going to help her push. When I say so, help her lean forward into the push. She needs to push from her diaphragm downward. It should some natural to her, but you need to know what's going to happen." I nod as I feel Hermione tense in my arms. Here we go.
I lean forward as she pushes down eliciting an ethereal groan from her. I have never heard anything so natural, so elemental in my life. I lean over and kiss her lightly on the shoulder as she relaxes back into me. "You're doing great, love. I am so proud of you."
I am surprised that she has been so calm through all of this. I have seen many a Muggle movie that shows the woman yelling obscenities and cursing the father of her child. Hermione has yet to do that. I think she might wait until they are five years old and inadvertently hexing each other before she starts blaming me. At least that's what I hope for.
I guide her breathing. We are as one. I can feel her body move with each breath. I can feel her heart beating through her back and into my chest. It seems so surreal, that is until another contraction comes and we are pushing together once more. This goes on for another half an hour, or maybe it was only fifteen minutes, I don't know. But the next thing I know is Healer Morningstar is looking at us. "Just one more push and your first son will be here."
I can't help but smile. My son. I help pull Hermione's knees up to help the push along. She screams for a moment; but the Healer smiles.
"Hermione, give me your hand," the Healer says and guides my wife's hand to the juncture between her legs.
"Harry, you've got to feel this," she says hoarsely. I reach down and meet her fingers.
I feel something slimy and hairy coming from between my wife's legs. "Is that?"
She nods and turns to peck my cheek. "That's his head, Harry. He's almost here." My heart leaps as I sit back and try to pull my wife into my arms. Before I can relax, she is pushing again. Suddenly, the Healer stops and tells her not to push anymore. What's wrong? Why shouldn't she push anymore? What's going on?
"Just a little push this time, Hermione. 1 - 2 - 3…"
With that one push, I see the Healer catch what I am assuming to be my baby. A mediwitch comes and lays a blanket on Hermione's still round belly. I watch in awe as Healer Morningstar brings up a slimy, purple, pruny little being and lies him on the blanket. He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. I reach my hand out to touch him and meet Hermione's fingers as they brush across his soft red cheek.
"He's beautiful," she breathes. She took the words right out of my mouth. I kiss her softly on the temple. I can't even think of words to describe what I am feeling at this moment. I want to hold him and cuddle him, but before I can even think it again, the mediwitch says a spell to clean out his mouth and nose and he immediately starts crying; music to my ears. With the quick flick of her wand, she severs the cord attaching him to my wife. The little purple button that is left sticking out from his belly is quite cute in a disgusting sort of way.
He quickly starts to turn from a purplish color to a nice pink. His hair is dark, but it may just be that he hasn't been cleaned up yet. We will see later. The mediwitch takes the baby away to a little table to examine him. I miss him already. How can you love something so much that you've only had for under a minute?
Suddenly, Hermione groans again and pushes forward. Oh that's right, there are two in there. The process begins again. Push. Breathe. Push. Hold on. "One more small push."
Again the Healer looks like he is catching a quaffle. And I smile at the sudden sense relief I see flood my wife's features. The Healer again puts the baby on Hermione's stomach, which is not noticeably softer and flatter. He is just a beautiful as his brother. Again, this one has dark hair. I can't wait to see their eyes. The mediwitch casts the spells and he is lying there naked, with a nubbin protruding out of his belly and a set of lungs that are being used quite effectively.
The cries of my sons sound different yet alike. I can already tell them apart. I look down at the woman in my arms. "I love you, Mione."
"I love you too, Harry."
We sit there contentedly watching the mediwitches fawn over the wriggling screaming bundles across the room. My sons. Our sons. Leo and Linus? No. Jacob and Joshua? No. James and Sirius? No. "Any ideas?" I ask without taking my eyes of the babies.
"I don't know," she answers. OK, this is not good. We can't name our boys 'Twin 1' and 'Twin 2' can we? It might be easier, but I think they would resent us for the rest of their lives.
I think for a minute. "I've been thinking about a couple and I think they fit." I look at her for approval before going on. She nods lightly. "How about Alexander James and Andrew Sirius?"
She turns to look at me and then at our boys. "Alexander and Andrew. The protector and the courageous…"
It's my turn to look surprised. "Yeah, that's what they mean. I looked at names starting with 'A' like Arthur, and these two popped out at me. How did you know their meanings?"
She smiled as she looked across the room at the small flailing arms and legs. "I looked at those two too, I liked them a lot. It fits. Arthur's name means Strength. Alex would be the Protector and Andrew means Courageous. I think the middle names fit too. James, your father, was your protector; and Sirius was as courageous as they come."
I can see a few tears leaking down her cheek and I wipe them away with my thumb. I never thought about the connection of the middle names. It is quite overwhelming. I like they way they sound. But it's all up to the boys. The mediwitch comes and sets the eldest of the two in my arms and the other in Hermione's. I'm a dad. I can't believe it.
I look down at the baby in my arms. "Hi Alex. Do you like that? Alexander James Potter." I watch amazed as his dark blue eyes flicker open. I take that as a yes. "All right, Alex it is," I say as I kiss his sweet forehead.
Hermione is holding the other boy whose eyes are wide open and as green as mine. The baby is staring up at his mother. His mother. Hermione and I are parents. It's unreal. I run a finger across Alex's features, comparing them to those of his little brother.
"Andrew," her sweet voice brings me back to reality for a moment. "Andrew Sirius Potter. He looks just like you, Harry." I smile and nod as I kiss her sweetly. We sit for a while in comfortable silence, reveling in the children in our arms. I find myself thinking only of my family; Hermione, Arthur, Alexander, Andrew and Candace. Candace.
I smile. "Well, Candi will be happy, her brothers were born on her birthday." I look up at the clock on the wall that said one-thirty.
Hermione smiles back at me. "No, Harry I think we missed it by about an hour, March 11th, the day after Candace's birthday."
"Well she still got her birthday wish. I don't think she'll mind that they were almost an hour late. She still got them."
Hermione and I continued to fawn over our little boys. We were so enthralled by them that we didn't even notice that the Healer and mediwitches had gone. It was just us. It was almost perfect. The only thing that would make it better would be Arthur and Candace sitting here with us.
I get up and put Alex in his bassinet and gently extract Andrew from Hermione's arms. She is exhausted. Her eyes keep trying to fall closed. I tuck the babies in and go back to the bed. I slide in beside my wife and gather her into my arms. It didn't take long to fall into the same breathing rhythm and for both of us to fall asleep dreaming of our two new babies.