~*~*~ The Throne Reclaimed ~*~*~
Prologue: The Heir of Gryffindor
Hermione gasped and clutched at her bedsheets, her body drenched in sweat as she cried out, trying her best not to say the name she desperately wanted to.
Harry!!!
"Soon, my child," the witch McGonagall soothed. "The pains are stronger and closer together."
It had seemed forever ago that she had been walking in the gardens and felt as if she had relieved herself in front of her handmaids and witch. McGonagall explained that it was her waters that had been broken and that the child will make its arrival within the day.
That had been in the afternoon, now it was dark outside and she was all alone.
"Ah!" Hermione cried out as another wave of pain washed over her.
"Breathe with it, my child," McGonagall said calmly.
Hermione wanted to rip her head off, she wanted to rip everyone's head off. They were standing around useless while she was wracked in bed with pain. Once again, she felt McGonagall put her hands in her most private of areas. She didn't care though, she just wanted this to be over.
McGonagall had arrived at the castle with a message for the Queen and the Queen alone. Hermione was large with the child who would be arriving soon. She brought a letter with her from Dumbledore. He had sent this woman, a witch and a friend of his. She could be trusted to birth the babe and help take care of it. Dumbledore's recommendation was good enough for her and she surprisingly got along very well with the woman. She felt as if she was the only true friend she could have in this castle since Jason had left.
"The next time the pains come, my Queen, I want you to push. It will make you feel better," the witch said.
Panic seized the Queen. The baby was coming, this was real. And she was all alone. The fastest riders were sent to send word to the King. The King was gone to Rowena to try and stabilize the city when the Ravenclaw Knights suddenly disappeared. It was chaos and Draco was furious. Hermione had learned that he had ordered the Knights of Ravenclaw dead. But he soon received word that the Knights had fled the city and were riding west under the banner of Gryffindor.
The True King had returned.
That was the word across the land. He had returned and was riding across the lands to gather support. He rode with noble Knights, he was handsome and dashing, he extended hand and ear to the poorest of the poor as well as the rich. But there were some who did not trust this new King. Mostly rich land lords who had profited from the lands being divided where now worried about having to bow down to a new King. Especially one who made Lord Voldemort a bit jittery.
At the next wave of pain, Hermione pushed. The witch was right, she did feel a bit better but the pain was still ferocious.
"Good, now relax and rest until the next one," McGonagall instructed.
Hermione was terrified that she was alone. She wished with all her heart that the baby's father could be here. Harry Potter, the Lost Heir of Gryffindor, the True King. She desperately wanted Harry here by her side, kissing her forehead, telling her that all would be okay.
But he couldn't be.
She was married to Draco Malfoy, King of Slytherin. She had married him, sacrificing herself for Harry, for a chance to defeat Lord Voldemort and put him on the throne. She married the Slytherin King to disguise the fact that the child was indeed, Harry's, that the child would be the Heir to the Throne. And she needed to hide the babe, hide it from Lord Voldemort who would ruthlessly track the child down and kill it.
For, an ancient curse, was held upon the Throne of Gryffindor when Lord Voldemort killed the King many, many years ago. Only the King's blood may sit on the throne and Lord Voldemort had thought he had gotten around this curse by staging a coup and killing the King and all his sons.
Almost all his sons.
One had survived and through the years, Lord Voldemort hunted his heirs down, killing them off one by one. The last one was Harry and he was well protected, it took many years for Lord Voldemort to find him. He had almost had him, he was so close. Harry had been brought to the castle, right in front of him but he had slipped through his fingers.
But now, Harry had proclaimed himself the True King and was gathering his own followers and his own army and would some day return to the Shadowlands to reclaim what is rightfully his.
"Again!" McGonagall ordered and Hermione pushed. Two chambermaids stayed at her side as she held their hands. They knelt on the bed, behind the Queen to give her leverage as she pushed. Hermione gasped and groaned at the pain as she pushed. She felt a burning sensation between her legs.
"Okay, rest," McGonagall said and Hermione released the breath she didn't realize she had been holding.
"Milady! I can see its head!" one of the maids proclaimed excitedly. Hermione had no time to think about it, she felt as if she were being stretched down there as another wave of pain hit. "Push gently, my dear," McGonagall said. Hermione did her best, she was so tired and weak now.
"OH! Ow! Ow! Ow!" she cried out. She was going to die. She felt as if she were being ripped in two, the pain was so great.
Then suddenly, she felt something slide out of her followed by a gush of water. A tiny cry was the only sound in the room as the women waited breathless. The cry quickly escalated to a wail and the women all celebrated in joy. McGonagall cut its life cord and tied it off. She then wiped the child gently with a warm wet cloth.
"It's a boy, my Queen," McGonagall said proudly. "You have a son," she said as she placed the wrinkly pink and screaming babe on her chest. The babe began to settle as it recognized the heartbeat of his mother.
"My boy," Hermione cried. "My beautiful baby."
Hermione lowered her nightshirt exposing a breast that the baby sought out and began to suckle. McGonagall placed a warm blanket around the child. Hermione looked down at the beautiful babe in her arms, content to be suckling. His dark hair was wet from his washing and curled slightly, his blueberry blue eyes looked up at his mother lazily before closing to sleep.
"A son," she whispered. "A beautiful baby boy." She began to cry for want and longing.
Harry, I have given you a son.
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