A/N: This chapter is unbeta'd so any mistakes either grammatically or otherwise are my own. A big thank you to all my reviewers and readers! I love you all whether you're a lurker, a well-wisher or a critic. I don't own any of the characters mentioned within this story as they are the product of various movies, cartoons, and TV shows.
"It's unbelievable! Harry Potter catches the Golden Snitch right out from Draco Malfoy's nose! Literally! In all my years of commentating, I've never seen that caliber of flying before! How humiliating for Malfoy this must be. But don't bother putting this in the history books people! Let's let Harry land and leave him alone to his quite life with his wife and children," the commentator was talking over the massive crowds via sonorous.
"Harry."
"Because Harry's been in the spot light enough, I say. A job well done, Potter -"
"Harry!"
Harry woke from his wonderful dream with a start and groaned rolling onto his side facing Hermione. "Yeah, love. Wha' is it?" he asked in a muffled slur.
"I think my water broke," Hermione whispered looking at him with wide eyes.
Still half asleep Harry frowned in confusion. "How d'you know?"
"Well, unless I've suddenly unlearned my potty training," she said pulling back the covers to showing a wet puddle growing on the sheets.
"Ew."
"Harry, I understand that you're not fully awake and the panic hasn't quite set in, but I really think we should floo to St. Mungo's ok?" Hermione whispered.
"M'kay. Lemme get dressed."
He rolled out of bed and sluggishly pulled on a pair of jeans over his boxers, his favorite comfortable Quidditch jersey from his days as Gryffindor's captain, a pair of socks and his favorite trainers. He moved efficiently, waking with every item of clothing he slipped on until he was fully dressed, awake and borderline panicked. "Are you ok? Are you in pain? Are you going to have the baby now?" he asked, helping Hermione to stand.
"Yes, no and no," she replied in short order. "Harry. Stop fidgeting. Listen."
Her calm and confident demeanor jerked his attention from her large swollen belly to her eyes. "The baby's probably not going to come for another few hours. We need to get to St. Mungo's, but there's no sense in panicking or rushing, ok?"
Harry nodded, breathing deeply. "All right. Let's go."
Upon arriving at the maternity ward, they were ushered into a private room and Hermione was quickly assessed and made comfortable on a bed. "Harry, could you floo everyone and let them know what's going on?" she asked, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand.
"I don't want to leave you," Harry protested softly.
"I'll be fine, trust me. And you'll only be gone a few minutes. You won't miss a thing, I promise. I barely feel my contractions and the medi-witch said I was only at four centimeters."
"Ever with the logical arguments," Harry sighed, but he couldn't quite contain the grin. "All right, I'll be back in a few."
He leaned over and kissed her forehead and the back of her hand before releasing it and reluctantly leaving her side.
The Grangers were the first to arrive, having had their fireplace connected to the Floo Network for the situation. "How are you, dear?" Mrs. Granger asked Harry after he'd cleaned them of soot.
"Anxious. I'm glad you're here. I was waiting for you since you're the only ones who don't know their way around," Harry said walking with them into the ward and to Hermione's room.
Harry hung back by the door and let Mr. and Mrs. Granger fuss over Hermione. All Mrs. Granger could say was "My baby's having a baby!" and sob. Mr. Granger couldn't wipe the goofy but proud grin off his face and Hermione's lower lip trembled at the sight of her father's misty faded eyes. For a moment so brief Harry barely had time to feel it let alone acknowledge it, he felt wistful and a bit melancholy that his own parents or even Sirius wouldn't be able to share this event with him the way Hermione's parents were. The feeling of regret might have lingered longer had a storm of Weasley's not descended upon the room testing the medi-witch's patience and the room's maximum occupancy.
An hour and a half later the noise had died down and the Weasleys and Grangers left to take up vigil in the waiting room or go home to wait for the announcement and Harry left Hermione gently napping. He was still too on edge over the past couple of hour's events and found himself unable to sit for more than a few minutes. Partly to wind down and partly out of curiosity Harry took to wondering the halls. Eventually he found himself in front of a window that looked into the nursery where three rows of infants lay sleeping in their little raised cots. In a few hours his newborn would be joining them. That thought both awed and scared the crap out of him.
"Hello there," a soft voice smiled.
Harry turned to find a grinning Remus approaching him from down the hall. "Couldn't sleep," Harry grinned in reply, giving the older man a hug. "I tried flooing you but you and Tonks weren't at home."
"We're picking up the twins today and Tonks couldn't wait, so we got up early and came down," Remus replied nodding his head toward two cots set slightly apart from the others. The twins had been born six weeks early and had spent the past three weeks at St. Mungo's until they were able to live outside of protective incubation charms. Even if they were healthy enough to go home, they were still tiny at only four pounds each.
"How did you do it?"
Remus looked over at Harry with confusion. "Do what?"
"When they were born so early. They're so tiny and fragile. How did you handle that?"
Remus looked into the nursery and was quiet for so long Harry wasn't sure he was going to respond. "I don't know. I didn't think about it I guess," Remus finally spoke up softly. "I did a lot of reading," he added with a wry grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But I knew they were going to be ok. They're Tonks's babies and if they're only half as tough as she is, I knew they'd be all right."
Harry grinned affectionately. "Speaking of which how are Tonks and John?"
"Good. Tonks can't wait to get the twins home of course. She's taken to cleaning every available surface and even gardening to keep her mind occupied." Remus shook his head wryly. "I think she salted the garden, I'm not sure. I'm a bit afraid to tell you the truth."
Harry chuckled. "Have you seen Hermione?"
"Sort of. We stopped by the room but she was sleeping, so we thought we'd pick the sprogs up then check to see if she was awake when we were finished." He checked his watch and frowned a bit. "I should get going. We were headed to the medi-witch station to fill out the paper work when I spotted you. It was good seeing you. We'll stop by in about an hour or so."
"Thanks, Remus. Hermione should be up by then."
The older man smiled and clapped Harry's shoulder before turning and heading back the way he came.
Hermione was awake by the time Tonks and Remus made it to the maternity suite and she oo'd and aw'd over the preemies for a few minutes. "We'd stay, but all the excitement from this morning is caaa-aatching up to me and we have to pick John up from my parent's," Tonks said around a huge yawn. "Floo us when you've popped the sprog out."
"We will," Harry chuckled.
They said their farewells and left.
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Over the course of fifteen hours, Harry watched as Hermione's contractions became steadily closer together and worse. He hated seeing her in pain despite the numbing charms placed on her, hated the scrunched concentration on her face that meant another contraction was approaching its excruciating zenith, hated the maddening calm Healer Jespers and the medi-witches and wizards projected, and especially hated the long wait.
Hermione groaned after a particularly hard contraction and Harry watched in fascinated horror as a ripple trickled down her stomach. The logical side of his brain knew that was just a muscle spasm brought on by the contraction, but at that moment his imagination went wild.
"Healer Jespers!" Harry ran out into the hallway just as the healer was headed for the suite. "You lied!"
"Mr. Potter, please," Jespers said around a chuckle. "I'm assuming you saw her stomach move yes? That was perfectly normal."
"Are you absolutely sure? Because I saw this Muggle movie once where this alien came out of this bloke's chest and it was all bloody and -"
"Mr. Potter - Harry, I assure you with absolute certainty your child will be born the way billions of other children throughout history have been born and not bursting from Ms. Granger's chest. Now please along with the suggestion that you resume your seat next to your fiancée, I would also suggest you stop watching Muggle science fiction movies," Jespers grinned, sitting on a rolling stool between Hermione's legs.
"But they're so addictive," Harry muttered in feeble protest sitting next to Hermione.
She shot him a glare worthy of McGonagall and Snape combined. "I would go along with Healer Jesper's suggestion if you wish to live," she panted.
"Yes dear," Harry replied even though he knew Hermione was a bigger sci-fi fan than he was and her threat stemmed from the pain of impending birth.
"Harry, sit behind Hermione, prop her up, yes like that. Good." Jespers waited until Harry was in place before speaking up in his maddeningly calm voice. "Now let's get this baby born. Hermione, you're at ten centimeters so I need you to bear down, don't arch up or else you'll tear -"
"I know what to do! I've done the research!" Hermione snarled between gasps.
Jespers blinked once and nodded, double checking the charms on her and the baby. "All right then. Everything looks good so on the next contraction, push hard."
They didn't have to wait long. Harry rubbed Hermione's upper arms, murmuring words of encouragement and love while she bore down and pushed.
"Keep going, keep going, go go go go . . . ok. Take a breather."
Hermione collapsed back in Harry's arms, panting. "That was great, love," he whispered in her ear, wiping her forehead with a cloth that had been charmed to keep cool.
"It'll be great when the baby's born," Hermione said wryly, looking up at her fiancé with a tired, but good humored grin.
"Ok, Hermione," Jespers spoke up too soon. "Ready? And push!"
She took a deep breath and bore down, pushing for all she was worth. She repeated the cycle three more times before Jespers cried out, "The baby's crowning! I see a mass of black hair. One more push and you should be done."
"Thank Merlin," Hermione groaned, absolutely exhausted by this point.
Harry craned his neck over her shoulder to get a glimpse, nearly having his eardrums burst when she screamed while pushing out the shoulders. "It's a boy!" Jespers exclaimed placing the squalling, shivering bloody new born on Hermione's stomach. "Care to cut the cord, dad?"
In a daze, Harry cut the umbilical cord with a mild severing charm and returned his attention to his son and the woman he loved. Hermione was laughing and crying at once and all Harry could do was sit there in stunned, awed silence. "Wow," he finally whispered.
Hermione looked up at him, her face aglow with a joy he was sure he'd never seen before. "Isn't he wonderful?" she whispered.
He nodded mutely, unable to take his eyes off his son even as the medi-witches took him to be weighed, cleaned and wrapped. After a moment he was finally able to tear his eyes away to smile down at Hermione. "Thank you, mum." He leaned down and kissed her softly, wiping away her tears with the pads of his thumbs.
"You're welcome, dad," she grinned back, reaching up to cup his cheek and wipe away the tears that had fallen unbidden and unnoticed on his cheeks. "I love you."
"I love you too."
The medi-witches returned shortly with their newborn wrapped tightly in a blue blanket. In his initial amazement, Harry hadn't noticed how right Jespers was. The baby had a thick head of black unruly hair. "The Potter curse lives on," he whispered with a grin, reaching up to run a very gentle hand over the baby fine (and, more importantly, human) hair.
Hermione only kissed his cheek and smiled.
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Ron stopped by early the next morning the way Harry and Hermione had when Ronnie was born. With his help they'd decided to name their newborn Sirius Ronald, but an hour later Harry was still holding out for a different middle name.
"Chewbacca?"
"No," Hermione sighed from her comfy hospital bed. She had just fed Sirius for the first time and was curled up on her side to watch Harry rock their son gently in a rocking chair.
"Spock."
"No."
"Alf."
"No!"
"Marvin."
"No, Harry."
"Barf."
"Ew, no!"
"Ripley."
"She was human and no."
"Kal-el."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly Harry, don't be silly. We're naming him Sirius Ronald. No matter how many names you may come up with nothing will change. Besides, isn't Ron alien enough for you?"
Harry sighed dramatically and leaned back in his chair, gently holding Sirius. "I suppose so," he replied softly, feeling a sense of déjà vu, but he wasn't entirely certain why. The infant in his arms squirmed slightly and he returned his attention to his son. "No matter what your name is, I still love you Sirius Yoda - I mean Ronald - Potter," he murmured kissing his son's smooth forehead.
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