The Battleverse Stories

Saturday, July 12, 2014.

Hermione Potter opened her eyes and blinked a few times. Glancing over at the clock, she saw it was almost ten in the morning.

Sitting up as quickly as her nine months pregnant belly would allow, she looked over to see Harry's side of the bed empty. She called out her husband's name, but there was no answer. Hermione knew he still had to be in the house; ever since she had started working from home in her sixth month due to constant morning sickness and fatigue, he had done the same. The last trimester of her pregnancy had been the best; she and Harry had been able to prepare the baby's room and spend plenty of time together, happy in the knowledge that the child they'd created out of their love for each other would soon be joining them.

“Harry!”

Two seconds after she'd called his name for the second time, Harry's head popped around the door. “You're awake!” He came into the room and leaned over to kiss Hermione, who by now had swung her legs over the edge of the bed as if to rise. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Hermione smiled and hooked her finger in Harry's shirt, bringing his face down for another, longer kiss. “Morning,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Why did you let me sleep so late?”

“Because you needed it,” Harry answered, holding his hands out to her. Hermione grasped them, unable to get up on her own, but as he attempted to pull her upright she let out a loud moan and sat back down again. “What's wrong? Sore back?”

Hermione hissed through her teeth and nodded. Unable to get comfortable in any position, her back was always sore first thing in the morning. Without a word, Harry climbed onto the bed behind her and began to massage her spine gently. Hermione closed her eyes and relaxed, Harry's magical fingers working wonders. After five minutes, her back felt better and she attempted to move again.

“It's better, thanks love. Help me up?”

Harry clambered off the bed and successfully pulled Hermione to her feet, keeping one of her hands in his. “You want to shower or eat first?”

Hermione pondered her options. “Shower, I think. I want to get dressed so I can do some work.”

Harry raised an eyebrow but said nothing, leading his wife to the shower and adjusting the water while she undressed. Hermione had not given up working from home, even at this late stage of her pregnancy, which bothered Harry a little; but he understood she needed to feel useful and since she wasn't doing anything strenuous, he couldn't argue. But he was keeping a close eye on her.

He waited until she had stepped into the shower recess before shutting the door. “I'm going to make some breakfast. You very hungry?”

“Starving! You'd think Junior hadn't been fed for a week.”

“One big breakfast, coming up.” Harry moved towards the door, and just as he reached the threshold, Hermione's voice stopped him.

“I love you, Mr. Potter.”

Harry smiled, even though Hermione couldn't see it. “I love you too, Mrs. Potter. Call out if you need a hand getting dressed.”

***

Hermione came into the kitchen twenty minutes later, dressed in comfortable overalls, slip on shoes and her hair up in a ponytail. Harry couldn't help but think how cute she looked, and said so.

She swatted his bum with the rolled up newspapers that sat on the counter, then manoeuvred into her chair and unfolded The Daily Prophet. “I'm not cute, I'm fat.”

“You're not fat,” Harry retorted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “You're pregnant with our baby, sweetheart. You're supposed to put on weight.” He knew Hermione had become extremely sensitive in recent weeks about the amount of weight she'd gained, and no matter how much he assured her that she was beautiful, he could tell a part of her hated being so big.

“I know,” Hermione said with a sigh. “But it doesn't mean I have to like it.”

Harry served up their breakfast and placed the plates on the table, then leaned over and gave his wife a long kiss. “Not much longer to go, love,” he murmured against her lips. Hermione squeezed his hand and uttered thanks, and they sat down together to eat breakfast while reading their respective newspapers, Harry favouring a look at The Guardian. Occasionally, one would comment on an article to the other, and in no time at all the food was gone and the papers read.

Harry cleared the table as Hermione drained her juice. She stood up on her own, grabbing onto the back of her chair for support, and ran a hand over her swollen belly. “I think I might go up to the study and look over the paperwork Tabitha owled yesterday.”

“I'll come upstairs too, then. Sirius wants me to go over his novel for him.” Harry's godfather had finally published his first novel the previous year to critical success and was now working on a second one.

Hand in hand, Harry and Hermione climbed the staircase and went into Hermione's study. Harry got her settled, positioning the large cushion comfortably behind her back, then left her alone with a kiss before disappearing into his own study, which was right next door. Like their work offices, they left their doors open so they could hear each other.

As the morning wore on, Hermione started to get constant twinges of pain, and she took to keeping one hand on her tummy, rubbing gently and frowning as each twinge passed. When the time moved into early afternoon and the twinges had become more frequent and more painful, Hermione realised that perhaps young Master or Miss Potter was finally ready to make an entrance.

“Harry,” she called out, not too loud so as not to alarm him.

Harry appeared at her door moments later and the look on his wife's face gave him pause. “What's wrong, Hermione?”

Hermione breathed deeply, her hand running over her belly soothingly. “I think I'm getting contractions.”

Harry's eyes widened. “Has your water broken?”

“Not yet.” Hermione shook her head. “But I think this is it, Harry.” They stared at each other for a few seconds, and neither of them could help the smiles that crossed their faces. “Our baby's coming,” Hermione said, her voice full of wonder and a little nervousness.

“Then let's get to the hospital to meet our little one.” Harry helped Hermione out of her seat. While his demeanour was calm, his heart was beating so fast he thought it might jump out of his chest. He was about to become a father. Oh, God.

He grabbed the bags they had packed weeks previously -- one for Hermione, one with all the baby items they'd need for a few days, and one for himself, as he was not planning to leave the hospital until he brought his wife and child home with him. They'd booked the best suite at St. Nyssa's, the most elite and private wizarding hospital in London, and Harry would be allowed to remain in the suite with his family.

He got Hermione and the bags downstairs, then scribbled a quick note to Ron, who would then owl everyone else. Harry knew Ron was working in the shop today, so he gave the note to one of their owls, Mercury, and urged the tiny white owl to hurry.

He bundled Hermione, who was breathing deeply and gritting her teeth by now, down into the living room, where they had the Portkey that would take them directly to the hospital. Once everything was in order, he held Hermione's hand in his and activated the Portkey.

***

Hermione's private healer was owled as soon as they arrived, and it only took ten minutes for Madam Elizabeta Gonzalez to arrive at the hospital. Hermione had changed into a gown and was settled into her suite when Elizabeta strode in. “Is it time to meet the youngest Potter?” she asked, her thick Spanish accent making the words sound elongated.

Hermione nodded and doubled over as a wave of pain swept over her. Elizabeta examined her and asked a few questions, then proclaimed loudly, “Ah, yes. It is indeed time.” She began the preparations for the labour, ducking out of the suite to get everything required. Elizabeta came back soon after to find Harry wiping Hermione's brow and holding her hand as another contraction seized her.

Elizabeta explained to them that it could take hours for the baby to actually arrive, and she waited to time the contractions. “Yes, awhile yet,” she murmured. “Do you want some charms to ease the pain?”

Hermione nodded breathlessly. “Yes!” she hissed as Harry kissed her forehead. Elizabeta cast the charms and Hermione instantly relaxed, the pain gone. “Oh, that's much better, thank you.” Although uncomfortable, she was no longer in any pain and that made the world of difference.

“It is not time for you to push yet, Hermione,” Elizabeta commented. “I'll come back and check on you in an hour, but if you feel the need to push, send for me straight away.” The older witch patted Hermione's leg and disappeared.

Harry spent the next ten minutes encouraging Hermione, who was alternating between being annoyed that Elizabeta had disappeared (somewhat irrationally, in Harry's humble opinion -- the healer had said it would take awhile yet, and she knew what she was talking about) and being impatient that it wasn't yet time to push. They'd gone over what Harry believed had to be every piece of literature in existence about labour and childbirth, and he knew that it would be some time yet before their child made an arrival.

“I want to get off this bed,” Hermione declared, struggling into a sitting position. Harry just nodded and helped her up, knowing that it was best not to argue. Slowly, carefully, they eased out of the suite and began to do a lap around the hospital, Harry making sure they didn't stray too far.

“There you are!” A voice said behind them. They turned to find Ron bounding towards them. “I thought I'd gotten the wrong room. I came as soon as I could.” He stooped to kiss Hermione's cheek and clapped Harry on the back. “How are the parents-to-be?”

Hermione doubled over as another contraction overtook her, and all of a sudden she felt something wet running down her leg. “My water just broke,” she said. “I need to lie down.” Harry and Ron helped her back to the suite and got her back on the bed.

Ron disappeared in search of Elizabeta and the healer arrived quickly, casting a few spells to dry and clean Hermione and the bed. “Still plenty of time yet,” she said cheerfully, and Hermione narrowed her eyes at the witch.

“How much time?” she said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, another couple of hours at least! Don't worry, Mrs. Potter, you're not ready to push just yet. You can go for another short walk if you like, but take it slowly. Are you in pain? Do you want me to cast another charm?”

“No, I'm not in pain.” Hermione took a few deep breaths and drank the water Harry gave her. “I'm just uncomfortable.”

“I know,” Elizabeta said, patting her leg. “All in good time.”

They were interrupted by a knock at the door, and two heads -- one red, one blond --peeked around.

“Come in!” Hermione said, brightening considerably at the appearance of Ginny and Draco. The healer used the distraction to slip out of the room unnoticed.

“How are you feeling?” Ginny asked, kissing her cheek. Draco followed suit and the new arrivals sat themselves down on the bed.

“Okay for now. Elizabeta said it's going to take a while yet. She's cast some pain-suppression charms, so I'm feeling okay.” Hermione shifted in the bed, trying to get more comfortable. “Where's Kellie?”

“She's at home with the girls, waiting for Mum to arrive,” Ron explained, referring to his daughter Gemma and his niece Bella. “Mum's going to watch the girls while we're all here. Kel should be here soon.”

True to Ron's word, his wife arrived not ten minutes later, and together the six friends sat and talked, telling jokes and amusing anecdotes to keep Hermione's mind off the labour. While the charms were of use, she still felt each contraction, especially in the base of her spine as the baby moved into position for birth, and she constantly shifted around.

It reached early evening with no sign of the baby, so Ron, Kellie, Draco and Ginny decided to, at Hermione's behest, go and grab some dinner. Promising to return soon, they all kissed her goodbye, the girls also favouring Harry with the same parting gesture and promised to return with something for him, seeing as he wasn't planning on leaving Hermione's side anytime soon.

When the others had gone, Hermione took the opportunity to use the Muggle phone specifically placed in her suite to ring her parents and tell them she was in labour. After assuring them she wasn't close to giving birth yet, they told her they would come to the hospital after dinner, but to ring again if it looked like the baby would arrive sooner. After promising to do so, she passed the phone to Harry at their request and he spoke to them briefly before hanging up.

Harry decided to wile away time as he and Hermione talked by unpacking the bags of clothes and other items they'd brought, and by the time he was done, the room had a somewhat cozy feel to it. There was the wooden cradle they'd previously brought from home set up in one corner next to the rocking chair, which was also theirs, and Harry had brought along some knickknacks from home to make Hermione feel as comfortable as possible.

Their friends arrived back after dinner, bringing a grateful Harry a bite to eat and some ice chips for Hermione, and they sat and chatted some more while Harry ate. Vincent & Judy Granger and Sirius arrived in the interim, and Hermione was bolstered by the appearance of all their family and friends. Elizabeta checked in every half an hour, but left the Potters with their extended family until she was needed.

Long after night had fallen and Hermione felt her contractions growing closer together, Elizabeta did another examination and shooed the visitors out, declaring it was time for the youngest Potter to make an appearance. Checking the time, she told Hermione there was a possibility that midnight would come and go before the baby's arrival, making their child a July thirteen baby.

All too soon, it was time to push, and with Harry by her side, holding her hand, wiping her brow and feeding her ice as she asked for it, Hermione started to give birth to her child.

The charms cast to ease her pain seem to be failing as she pushed, because every muscle in her body ached and she felt like she was going to come apart. She pushed and she pushed, but no baby came out. Elizabeta eventually stated that the baby's head was out, but by this time, Hermione was so exhausted that she cried and said she couldn't do it anymore because she was just so tired.

It was then that Harry leaned over her, kissing her head and whispering words of encouragement into her ear. He told her loved her more than anything in the world; he said he knew she was in pain and if he could do anything to take the pain for her, he would, and that all she had to do was push hard one more time and it would be all over. With the encouragement of the man she loved more than life, Hermione Potter pushed one last time.

The lusty cry of a newborn filled the air moments later as Elizabeta looked up at them and proudly announced, “You have a son. Harry, do you wish to cut the cord?” Harry nodded and picked up his wand, and seconds later, the umbilical cord linking mother and child had been cleanly severed.

Elizabeta gave him a quick clean and swaddled him in a blanket, then laid him on his mother's chest for his parents to look at.

Master Potter was tiny, red, and bawling; his little hands were balled into fists and waving furiously in the air and his head was covered with fine black hair.

“Hello, my son,” Hermione crooned, reaching out to take a small hand in her own. She was grinning madly as tears rolled down her face. He was here. Their baby had finally arrived. Harry stroked his son's cheek softly before Elizabeta whipped him away to weigh him and clean him properly, in full view of his parents.

Harry turned away to look at his wife, who had collapsed back onto the pillows, and his eyes were shimmering with tears as he kissed her gently. Minutes later, Elizabeta was back with the baby, who now seemed to be sleeping. “He is perfectly healthy. He weighs exactly seven pounds, is forty-nine centimetres long and was born at 12.18am on July thirteenth. Who wishes to hold him first?” she asked with a broad smile.

“Give him to Harry,” Hermione said tearfully. Elizabeta carefully placed the baby in his father's arms, and then tended to Hermione. Once her job was completed, she left the new parents alone.

Harry cautiously manoeuvred himself onto the bed so he sat on Hermione's right, then cradled their son in his left arm so she could see him properly. She sat up and placed her arm around Harry, resting her head on his shoulder and her other hand on the baby's head, stroking his hair softly. He turned to kiss her forehead, and for a long time, they sat silently, looking at their son.

Hermione's curiosity soon overcame her and she had Harry place the baby across her lap so she could unwrap him. They counted all his fingers and toes and remarked on just how tiny they were, then gave him gentle kisses and rewrapped him.

“We should probably let everyone outside know he's here and let them see him so they can go home and sleep,” Hermione said tiredly. “Then maybe we can sleep too.”

“Who do you want to see first?” Harry asked, not tearing his gaze away from the little boy nestled safely in his arms.

“Let the grandparents come in first, then our friends.”

“Okay,” Harry said, kissing Hermione and then the baby. “I'll be right back.” He handed the baby over to his mother and went outside into the waiting room.

Harry was quite unprepared for the wave of emotion that swept over him as he walked into the private waiting lounge and saw the faces of the people he loved waiting for him.

“Harry!” he heard Ginny squeal excitedly. “Has she had the baby?” Vincent, Judy, Sirius, Ron, Kellie, Ginny and Draco all stared at him, anxious for news.

“Yes,” Harry said, his voice hoarse. “We have a boy.”

The room broke into a cacophony of sound and congratulations were thrown Harry's way, but he couldn't quite take it all in and his eyes sought out Ron's. He stared at his best friend of twenty-three years.

Ron seemed to understand, taking a few steps towards Harry and closing the gap between them. “Congratulations, Dad,” he said.

“Thanks, Uncle Ron,” Harry replied, his eyes misty. Ron pulled Harry into an embrace and Harry held him tightly, the men clapping each other on the back. Once Ron let him go, everyone else surged forward to hug and kiss him.

“How's the beautiful mother?” Ron asked over Ginny's shoulder.

“Tired, but fine. She needs a bit of time to change and feed the baby, then we'll ask everyone in. I'll be back soon.”

With that, he went back into the suite and placed his son in the cradle, then helped Hermione into the shower so she could freshen up. While she was in there, Elizabeta came in to check on them and tell Hermione he needed to be fed.

Once Hermione was dry and dressed in a clean nightgown, she got ready to feed the baby. Harry carefully lifted him out of the crib and sat next to his wife, handing him over. Hermione, unsurprisingly, needed no help from Elizabeta on how to feed the baby, and it wasn't long before their child was suckling greedily on her breast, one tiny fist wrapped around his father's finger. Once Elizabeta was satisfied everything was under control, she left again. When the baby was done, Harry had his first go at burping him, and Hermione made herself comfortable in bed to prepare for visitors.

Once his family was settled, he went back into the waiting area. “We thought we'd have the grandparents in first, then everyone else. Is that okay with everyone?”

The room's occupants nodded their assent, and Judy and Vincent Granger stood near Harry, waiting for him to lead them to their daughter and grandson. Harry started to walk away but noticed somebody was missing. “Sirius, are you coming? Master Potter wants to meet his paternal grandfather.”

Sirius stared at Harry for a few moments, his eyes shimmering and his mouth moving with no sound. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I think it might be best if I let everyone else go first, son.”

Harry thought he understood why, so he favoured his godfather with a nod and smile, and led his in-laws to the suite.

They fawned and fussed over their daughter and the baby, and took turns holding him and taking photos with the camera Judy pulled out of a deceptively small handbag. After ten minutes of cooing, Harry politely hinted it was time to let others come in so they could see the baby and allow Hermione some sleep.

The Grangers left, promising to return the next day, and then their friends came in, making their visit mercifully short as they, too, fawned over the baby and indulged in a quick cuddle. After kissing an extremely tired Hermione, they said their goodbyes, gave the baby to Harry and left the new parents alone.

“Sirius hasn't been yet,” she noted. “Is he still here?”

Harry nodded. “He said he wanted to wait until everyone was gone. I think--” Here Harry paused, gathering his thoughts. “I think he wanted some time to compose himself because this reminds him of when I was born, and Mum and Dad.”

Hermione placed her hand on her husband's thigh and squeezed gently. “When you're ready, bring him in to meet his grandson.”

Harry kissed his son's head and handed him back to his mum, then went to get his godfather. He found Sirius sitting on the lounge, so deep in thought that he didn't notice Harry was standing in front of him until he waved a hand in the air.

“Are you ready to meet your grandson now?” Harry asked quietly. A wide grin spread across his face; he was unable to contain his joy.

Sirius stood, his eyes misty and red. “I'm so very happy for you, Harry.”

Harry pulled his godfather into an embrace, grateful Sirius was here to share in his joy of being a new father. Clasping his hand, he led him into the suite.

Hermione looked up as they entered, her son tucked neatly into the crook of one arm, and gave Sirius a tired smile. “Here he is! There's somebody who wants to meet you, Grandpa.”

Sirius came over to the bed and leaned over to kiss Hermione, stroking her cheek affectionately. “You look wonderful, Mum.”

Hermione beamed as he sat down next to her on the bed, and she carefully handed the baby over, making sure to cradle his head. “Oh my,” Sirius said softly, treating the baby as if he were made of china. “Aren't you just the tiniest little thing?” He ran a finger over the baby's head. “You look just like your dad when he was born.”

Harry, who had perched himself next to Hermione on the other side of the bed and had put his arm around her, holding her close, swallowed a few times and blinked. “He does?”

“Oh, yes,” Sirius said. “He's got your chin and the exact same amount of hair you did.” He stared at the baby in awe. “No mistaking this one to be a Potter.”

Harry's eyes became misty and he turned away to kiss Hermione's forehead, composing himself. Hermione didn't bother to stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks, brushing them away and snuggling closer to her husband.

“Yes, my wee man, you are indeed a Potter,” Sirius crooned to the baby. “Does he have a name yet?” he asked, looking up at the parents.

“No, not yet,” Harry answered. “We haven't settled on one.”

“Best to take your time,” Sirius murmured, nodding his head sagely. “After all, the lad will be stuck with it forever.”

“That,” Hermione chimed in, stifling a yawn, “is something that can wait until tomorrow.” She turned to Harry. “I'm so tired,” she said quietly.

“I know you are, sweetheart,” Harry said soothingly, smoothing her hair back and kissing the tip of her nose.

Sirius handed his grandson back to his father and rose. “I'm going to leave you to get a few hours sleep before the wee one wants to be fed again.” He leaned over to kiss Hermione's cheek and she placed her arms around his neck awkwardly, due to her position. He hugged her back, then moved around to the other side of the large bed to bestow a kiss on the crown of the baby's head. “See you tomorrow, young man. You be good for your parents.”

“I'll walk you out,” Harry said, placing his son in the cradle so Hermione could sleep. The two men left the room, Harry shutting the door quietly behind him. It didn't hit him until he began to walk just how drained he was. He could only imagine it was ten times worse for Hermione.

“Thanks for being here, Sirius,” he said, walking his godfather to the end of the corridor that led to the exit. “We'll see you tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Sirius responded with a grin. “I wish to see the little one again.” He sobered and looked at Harry. “He's beautiful, Harry. James and Lily would have been absolutely thrilled with their grandson.”

Harry swallowed a few times, his eyes watering. “I wish they were here to see him.” His voice sounded scratchy and hoarse, but he didn't care.

“So do I, son,” Sirius said, his own voice wavering. “But they can see him.” He pulled Harry close before he lost his composure completely and held him tight, then let him go with a whispered, “Tomorrow,” and disappeared before Harry could respond.

Harry breathed deeply a few times, pulling himself together before he went back to his wife and son. The baby's eyes were closed, as was his mother's. Hermione's opened again, however, at the sound of the door.

“Hi,” she said softly as Harry came back. “You okay, love?”

Harry nodded and kissed her. “I'm fine. Think we should change his nappy before we put him down?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, we probably should.” Harry picked up his son and took him over to the change table, then deftly changed his nappy like he'd been doing it for years and brought him back to Hermione for a kiss. He then set him in the cradle next to the bed.

“Right,” he said once the baby was settled. “I'm going to jump in and have a quick shower and pull my pyjamas on. Do you want anything?”

Hermione's face was pale and drawn, her eyelids already drooping. “Sleep for the next ten years would be nice.” They shared a laugh and as Hermione settled down into the bed and closed her eyes, Harry pulled the blanket up and kissed her forehead softly.

He quickly showered and changed, and by the time he climbed into bed next to Hermione, she was sound asleep. He watched her for a few minutes, fatigue washing over him, then reached out a hand to gently stroke her cheek. “Thank you for my son,” he whispered, even though he knew she couldn't hear him. With a smile, he moved his hand away, kissed her cheek, then settled back, making sure to give her enough room to shift around, and promptly fell asleep.

***