A/N - these are getting harder to write - maybe my muse has left me. I also think that I'm reading two great stories here on Portkey (Shadow Walks and Vox Corporis) that my writing seems a mere shadow next to them…sigh. Still, I hope you enjoy this. Thank you for your reviews, they do mean a lot. Not as many reads with the last chapter (in fact the fewest I've ever had) but I still have the faithful with me. Thanks heaps.
First Baby
Harry opened the door to what was now commonly known as 'the Potter Tower' with a tired sigh. It had been a very long week. But now it was officially the weekend and as he entered the portion of Hogwarts that he called home, he felt some of the tension he felt leave him.
"Hermione!" he yelled, placing his cloak on the cloak rack and his bag on the table. When he got no reply, he made his way to the bedroom that was situated up the staircase, a frown furrowing his brow. His wife hadn't been feeling too well the last few weeks and he was starting to get worried.
He opened the door to their room and there she was, curled up into a ball, Crookshanks snuggled into her. She looked asleep, which made Harry frown more deeply. It was only four in the afternoon - she very rarely slept in the afternoon. Plus, they were planning to go to Ron and Luna's for dinner at five.
He stood watching her for a moment, considering what he should do. He wanted to leave her there, let her sleep whatever illness she had off and insist that she'd see Madam Pomfrey tomorrow. But he also knew she would be disappointed if they didn't get to Ron and Luna's.
Sighing, Harry went to the bed and gently shook her awake.
"Hermione," he said softly, "sweetie, you need to wake up."
Her eyes fluttered open, slowly focusing on him - smiling and stretching her arms over her head, she woke.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey," he copied as she sat, a disgruntled Crookshanks stalking off the bed and out of the room.
"What time is it?"
"Just after four," Harry told her, sitting down next to her, "how're you feeling?"
"Like I'm going to be sick, but not quite. And tired," as if to prove her point, Hermione yawned and stretched once more, "think I might have a quick shower. Try and wake myself up."
"Right," Harry nodded but took her hands in his before she could leave the bed, "would you go and see Poppy tomorrow? Please? This isn't like you Hermione."
"We'll see," she quipped evasively, kissing him as she got off the bed.
He watched her as she made her way to the toilet, his frown returning. They had only been married three months, making a tower in the wing overlooking the lake their home. He was enjoying married life, every day seeming to bring new joys. He loved being with her, laughing with her, waking up next to her - there was no doubt in his mind just how much he loved her.
Yet lately Hermione had started to feel ill, with the last few days seeing her withdraw from him, her mind obviously troubled with something she wasn't wanting to share.
He heard the toilet flush which made him look up and see Hermione exit the smallest room of the tower, lost in her own thoughts. She was scowling in concentration, totally forgetting that Harry was there, watching her.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, his concern returning ten fold - she didn't answer, "Hermione," he continued, standing and making his way to her, "are you alright?"
"Huh?" she said, startled out of her reverie when he touched her arm, "oh, yes, everything's fine. Will be ready in a jiff."
With that, she dashed away, grabbing the clothes she had already selected to wear and closing herself into the bathroom. It wasn't long until Harry heard the sound of the shower, and with a resigned sigh, got ready himself.
Half an hour later, they stepped out of the hearth at Ron and Luna's comfortable house in Ottery St Catchpole. It was half-way between the Lovegood and the Weasley family homes, the purchase a gift bought with money donated by friends and family. When not working, Ron was frantically doing the necessary repairs and decorating so the place was a mix-match of completed and un-completed rooms but it reeked of Ron and Luna's style and personality. Harry loved the place.
"Hey guys," Ron welcomed, his arms full of various random items - books, a broom, a bowl and stuff Harry couldn't recognise, "won't be a mo. Luna said I should tidy. I told her we needn't bother, it was only you two, but she insists you're guests. I told her she was barmy and well…I'm tidying."
"Good to know who wears the pants," Harry joked with a laugh, "need a hand?"
"No mate," Ron came back, piling his arm full of stuff in a corner and draping a blanket over it, "I'm done. Want a drink?"
"Actually, I'll just pop to the loo," Hermione said in response to Ron's questioning gaze, "a pumpkin juice for me."
"Right," Ron shrugged as Hermione dashed away and once getting Harry's order, yelled it out to Luna then flopped down in the sole armchair, "is she alright? Hermione? She looks a bit peaky."
"She hasn't being feeling that well," Harry admitted, sitting down on the couch and thanking Luna as she handed him his drink, "and is refusing to see Poppy."
"You need to force her to, Harry," Ron instructed, snaking an arm around his wife's waist as she sat on the arm of his chair, "show her who's boss."
"Right, yes, that will work," Harry said sardonically, "have you met my wife? Small, slight woman, lot's of hair and a will of bloody iron? I'll tell you…"
"Tell him what, Mr Potter?" Hermione cut in, returning from the toilet, a smile dancing on her face.
But the conversation didn't continue as everyone turned to a squealing Luna, who had jumped off the chair and made her way to Hermione in quick strides. She didn't say anything, just held Hermione out at arms length and studied her thoroughly, all the while grinning like a mad woman - which, Harry thought to himself, she possibly was.
"Oh my," Luna cried, holding Hermione's face with her hands, "oh, look at you! You are positively glowing! Your aura, your core - oh Hermione, how far are you along?"
"Along?" Hermione queried, confused, but Harry saw all colour leave his wife's face.
"Yes, along," Luna confirmed, tilting her head to the side quizzically, "oh, pumpkin pie - when is the baby due?"
Harry was sure his heart stopped, literally stopped beating in his chest, because the silence in the room was complete. He saw the look of shock on Hermione's face and knew that there was a mirror image on his own. Baby? What baby?
"No," Hermione stated hastily, "oh no, there is no baby Luna…"
"But of course there is!" Luna countered as she watched Hermione break out of her touch and sit next to Harry on the couch. Harry took her shaking hand in his, his mind going over the evidence.
"You have been feeling unwell," he ventured.
"No."
"When…when was your last…" he was about to say 'period'(already making the calculations in his head and realising that she was late) but Hermione cut in frantically.
"Well, yes, I am a bit late," she conceded half-heartedly, telling Harry that she had been thinking the same thing, "but its only been a week. I can't be pregnant, I just can't!"
"Have you guys done the spell each time?" Ron asked with a grimace, "though the idea of you two actually having sex is really quite foul…"
"Of course we do the spell Ron!" Hermione shot back before her eyes widened in shock, "oh no!"
"Oh no what?" Harry asked, his mind now frantically thinking about the many times they had had sex over the past months and whether there was a time when they had forgotten to use the contraception spell - the expression on Hermione's face told him she may have thought of one such time.
"Valentine's Day," she muttered and immediately new images barged into Harry's brain.
He had taken Hermione to a fancy Muggle restaurant in London where she tormented him all night with little come-ons - a lick of the lip, crossing her legs to expose a bit more thigh, bending over slightly to give him a glance down her cleavage - by the time they flooed home, he was horny as hell. The moment they had stepped out of the hearth into their quarters, he had her against the wall, his mouth locked onto hers as they both tried to get naked as quickly as possible…
"Harry!"
"Huh?" he mumbled, his mind returning to the present to see a smirking Ron, an amused Luna and a very flustered Hermione all staring at him.
"Honestly Harry," Hermione growled, "can you embarrass me any further?"
Before he could wonder what he had done to embarrass her, Ron spoke up.
"Would you like us to give you a moment mate," his friend chuckled, "it seems you've got yourself rather…excited."
Ron made a gesture to Harry's lap and as he looked down, he saw what had caused the various reactions. Blushing furiously, he quickly grabbed a cushion and placed it over his…excited…groin area.
"I think I'll go and check on dinner," Luna advised them, leaving the room.
"I'll help," Hermione added, following Luna without a second glance at Harry.
Ron and Harry sat there in silence, a smirk still covering Ron's face.
"You know, Luna's hardly ever wrong about these kinda things," Ron said after a while.
"I know," Harry replied, frowning, "it makes sense. Hermione's been feeling sick…"
"You're going to be a dad Harry."
Harry looked up at Ron as his words hit home. He was going to be a father.
The rest of the night went without a mention of the impending parenthood as the two couples caught up. However, Harry and Hermione's distraction didn't go unnoticed, with the Potter's returning to Hogwarts a lot earlier than normal.
They went to their room in silence, both going through the routine of getting ready for bed with automatic precision. Harry was worried - his mind was going a hundred miles a minute, he'd hate to think what was going through his wife's.
"Hermione," he began, stopping her as she went to the bathroom to clean her teeth, "are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she replied automatically, continuing on her journey.
"Don't lie to me," Harry stated calmly, stopping her in her tracks once more.
He watched as her shoulders rose and fell as she took a deep breath. Slowly she turned back and looked at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
"This is all happening too soon, Harry," she cried, making her way to the bed and slumping down on it, Harry following, taking her hand in his as he watched her tears fall, "I mean, a few months ago, we hadn't even had sex! We've just got married! We've barely had time to get used to being a husband and wife and now we're going to be parents? I…this is too overwhelming!"
"Sure, we didn't plan it this way…" Harry tried to reason, but Hermione cut in.
"I've just started a job! A job I love, that I'm good at!" She got off the bed and began to pace, wiping away her tears as she did so. Harry frowned as a new thought, a thought that had never occurred to him before, a thought that devastated him, crossed his mind.
"Hermione," he started tentatively, "don't you want this baby?"
"Oh Harry!"
She was at his side instantly, holding his hands once more - Harry carried on.
"I…I know we didn't plan this or anything, that we were going to wait a few years. But…"
"Harry, I'm so sorry," she sobbed, "I didn't mean…of course I want this baby! It's just that…aren't…aren't you scared?"
"Terrified," Harry stated simply, giving her a weak smile - which she returned through her tears, "I have no idea how to be a father."
"But you're great with kids!" Hermione exclaimed, her own fears forgotten for a moment, "when I watch you with the baby Weasley's - not like me. I don't know how to handle children! How can I be a mother? What if I'm awful?"
"Hermione," Harry soothed, "I honestly don't believe you'd be an awful mother. How can you be? Besides, this baby - our baby - is going to be so well loved, and has brilliant grandparents who will show its mum and dad what to do if we get it wrong. Plus Molly and Arthur. We'll be fine."
"You and me," she added.
"Right, you and me," Harry echoed, kissing her nose gently, "we'll learn being great parents together, okay?"
"Thank you Harry," Hermione smiled, her tears now gone, "thank you for understanding."
"You're welcome," he smiled back, "and you'll go and see Poppy tomorrow now, won't you?"
Hermione nodded her ascent and the two of them finished getting ready for bed. But Harry was still awake long after the lights were out, his assurances seemingly hollow to him as he mulled over the notion that he was going to be a father. He knew then that he had lied to Hermione - he wasn't scared about becoming a dad, he was absolutely petrified.
The following day Madam Pomfrey confirmed that Hermione was indeed pregnant and that she was only five weeks along. She gave Hermione some basic information like it was best not to appariate much, that she should find an obstetrician (not having much experience with pregnant mothers herself) and could recommend both Muggle and magical physicians, that miscarriages are most common in the first trimester and to notify her if there was any sign of bleeding.
The decision was made to keep the news quiet for now until at least the end of the first trimester, telling only Hermione's parents. And they also decided that they wouldn't tell her parents until the next day, choosing to spend their Saturday getting used to the idea they were going to have a baby.
Telling Mr and Mrs Granger was nerve wracking but went reasonably smoothly with Hermione's parents showing their support and love with hugs and tears all round. Madam Pomfrey had given them the names of some obstetricians that were Muggles or squibs, aware of the magical world but not part of it. Mrs Granger had recognised one of the names and it was decided they would make an appointment with a Doctor Marie Stephens as soon as they could.
Harry was told he didn't need to attend the initial consultation but wish he had as he spent the whole of the time that Hermione was there wishing he was with her. Needless to say, his teaching for that particular hour or so wasn't the best. That evening, she told him what Dr Stephens had told her, the things she could and couldn't do and that she'd see her again in six weeks for a scan.
Those next weeks were…challenging. Hermione seemed tired all the time and though she hadn't actually vomited, she felt constantly sick. Sex was pretty much out of the question and her need to go to the toilet every few minutes was something Harry was getting used to.
As well as the mood swings.
Plus Harry was still working things out in his own head, how he felt about the idea that he was going to be a dad. He found himself thinking about the future, where to raise his child, how to provide for his family - all things that had been just passing thoughts were now discussed and debated. He also found himself breaking out in a cold sweat as he thought about just how much his life was about to change.
Before he knew it, the eleven week scan was due and with unexpected nervousness, Harry walked with Hermione into the plush clinic in a suburb of Oxford. Clasping her hand, he watched with interest as the friendly radiographer put the gel like substance over Hermione's still flat belly before running a strange device in seemingly random motions over her abdomen.
At first, the images on the screen in front of them meant nothing until Harry saw something that looked scarily like a hand.
"Well, there's a little surprise for you both," the nice radiographer stated, grinning madly.
"What?" Hermione asked, still peering at the screen, trying to determine what she was looking at. Harry did the same, but something didn't seem right. He could see a dark mass that was beating rhythmically which logically seemed like the heart. Trouble was, there were two of them.
"Mr and Mrs Potter, it looks like you're having twins. Identical twins. Congratulations."
"Twins?" Hermione repeated while Harry understood now why there were two hearts - there were two babies. Two babies.
"Twins?" he echoed, as his mind finally caught up.
"Yes, look," the radiographer moved the device around on Hermione's belly with one hand while pointing at the screen with the other, "there is the head and heart of baby one, and there's the head and heart of baby two. Both look healthy and it seems we were right with the timing. Your babies are due around the end of November."
Harry couldn't speak and was still dumbfounded as they made their way to Dr Stephens' office, where he heard the facts and figures associated with multiple birth pregnancies, how they were more likely to be born early and that they will need to monitor Hermione more closely to make sure the umbilical cords don't tangle and damage one of the babies.
They also got the all-clear to start telling people.
The following Saturday was a belated birthday celebration for the twins, who had been on a fact finding mission for the stores for the last month, missing their actual birthday. Harry and Hermione decided to tell everyone then, get it over and done with at one go as everyone was going to be there. If the reaction of Hermione's parent's were anything to go by, the knowledge that they were going to have twins would be quite…teary.
The evening was full of hilarity as the Burrow was full to overflowing with numerous Weasley's plus friends. Winter was slowly losing its grip, letting the party take place in the cool, but clear back yard. They waited until things had quietened down a bit before Harry nervously stood, noticing Ron looking at him and grinning, knowing what was coming next.
"Er, everybody," Harry called out, only getting a few people's attention.
"Oi!" Ron yelled - the garden became quiet as they all looked towards the standing Harry.
"Thanks Ron," Harry acknowledged, "um, it's just that Hermione and I have some news…"
"I knew it! I knew it!" Tonks shouted triumphantly before Harry could get another word out, "you've knocked Hermione up, haven't you Harry?"
"Well, I wasn't going to put it quite like that…" Harry mumbled, his embarrassment totally unnoticed as Molly screamed with joy and engulfed Hermione in a huge hug with Harry following soon after. Before he knew it, he was being congratulated by everyone in turn with manly whacks on the back or bone crushing hugs and kisses.
"So, when are you due?" Ginny asked excitedly.
"In November," Hermione replied, smiling, "but since we're having twins, they think it will be a bit earlier…"
This news brought a whole new set of congratulations.
May turned into the month from hell. What with the first set of final exams he ever had to teach, Hermione yelling one minute then bursting into tears the next and spring turning out to be extremely wet and gloomy.
They were well into the second trimester when Hermione no longer could keep her pregnancy a secret as her tummy began to grow. By the time May turned into June, life in the Potter household got a bit better. Hermione seemed more of her old self, plus she seemed to glow - radiate - with a beauty that was accentuated by the knowledge she was carrying his child. Children.
The scans continued to show everything was going well with the babies looking more and more human like each time they saw them. Madam Pomfrey saw Hermione on a weekly basis, making sure everything was doing as it should, while the Muggle visits remained once a month.
Future plans were sorted out too. Minerva told them they could stay in the Castle as long as they wanted, so after some discussion both Harry and Hermione agreed that Hogwarts was the best place to be. The safety of the wards and the close proximity to where they worked meant that, with a bit of planning and help, they could both teach and parent at the same time. With the current year winding down, they sat with the headmistress and worked out a timetable that saw Hermione have one full day free, Harry have one full day free while the Grangers looking after their grandchildren one day a week, Mrs Weasley another left just one day where various teachers (plus some trusted and responsible students) would look after the twins the times both parents taught.
Harry's twentieth birthday came and went without much fuss and by the time Hermione turned twenty-one, she had had enough of being pregnant and was looking forward to the time where she didn't feel like a marooned whale.
As far as pregnancy with twins went, the experts assured Harry and Hermione that theirs was going pretty smoothly. Harry had begun to relax - they had passed the crucial point where even if the babies were born tomorrow, their chance of survival was very good. The months of watching the development of his children through scans and appointments along with talks to other fathers had also allayed many of his fears - it seemed being a first time father is a scary concept for most.
A week and a half had passed since Hermione's birthday and Harry was enjoying flying along side the Gryffindor Quidditch team at one of their practices. Though, thanks to his damaged leg, he couldn't stay on a broom for long periods of time, he was glad that at least he could fly now.
Circling around and shouting out helpful hints now and then, Harry noticed Hermione waddling down towards the pitch, her hand resting on her hugely protruding belly. Though he couldn't see her expression from where he was hovering, he was immediately concerned - walking was a chore for her at the moment and the uneven surface of the path to the Quidditch pitch would be a nightmare. With a frown, he started to make his way towards her.
Life seemed to stop the moment Harry watched Hermione crumple to the ground. He speed towards her and was by her side in an instant, noting she was deathly pale and blood was staining her legs. After ordering a student to go and warn Madam Pomfrey that Hermione had collapsed, he gathered his wife in his arms and began running towards the castle.
Harry had slipped into survival mode. His wife was heavy, but he didn't notice. His leg was complaining, ready to buckle at any moment, but he ignored the pain and willed it to hold out until Hermione was safe. He had to save his family.
Madam Pomfrey met him at the castle steps, Minerva at her side. They placed the still Hermione on a floating stretcher and without a word, they hurried to the hospital wing. Harry helplessly watched as the matron performed a number of diagnostic spells, trying to determine what was going on while the stain of red that covered the hospital sheets around Hermione's legs got bigger.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked frantically.
"I don't know for sure," Madam Pomfrey answered with a frown, "but she's losing a lot of blood and both babies are distressed…"
"Distressed?" Harry echoed, the horror that he may be losing his family in one foul hit starting to enter his brain.
"Minerva," the matron barked, startling Harry with her sharpness, "go to St Mungo's and find Healer Simmons. Tell him that Hermione is in trouble and he and his team need to get here immediately," Professor McGonagall nodded and left in a swish of robes.
Harry barely registered what was happening around him as he held Hermione's cold, clammy hand in his and watched her face, noting how her hair was now plastered to her forehead with sweat and how she looked so…lifeless.
It wasn't long before Professor McGonagall returned with a portly gentleman and half a dozen mediwitches in her wake. With an efficient calmness, Healer Simmons began to examine Hermione as Madam Pomfrey told him of her findings, her words technical and un-understandable to the listening Harry. Around him, the team of medical professional's began preparing the ward for an operation.
Harry found his voice.
"What's going on?" he asked the Healer.
"You need to leave," was the brisk response.
"I'm not going anywhere," Harry growled, holding Hermione's hand tighter, "now, tell me what's going on with my wife!"
"Mrs Potter is dying from massive internal bleeding and if we don't act quickly we will lose both her and the two babies," the Healer responded, looking Harry unflinchingly in the eye, "you need to leave."
"Come on Harry," Minerva coaxed, guiding a numbed Harry out of the chair beside the bed and out of the hospital ward. As the door closed he turned to it and stood stock still, waiting. His leg was throbbing and he ached all over but that was nothing to the pain in his heart as the Healers' words repeated in his head.
Mrs Potter is dying…
How could things go so terribly wrong? The pregnancy was fine! Hermione was fine…considering. And now he may lose all of them.
So he stood waiting, staring at the door for a sign that his family was going to be alright. When Ron came and stood next to him, he acknowledged his friend with a look, then returned his eyes to the closed door. It was an hour before the door opened and Madam Pomfrey came out.
"Is Hermione alright?" Harry asked immediately, walking over to the school nurse in two large steps.
"Yes," the matron said wearily, "yes, Healer Simmons was able to stop the bleeding - Hermione is going to be fine…"
"Can I see her?"
"In a moment," Madam Pomfrey replied before gently leading Harry to a couple of chairs quickly conjured up by Minerva, "Harry, Hermione is going to be unconscious for probably about a week. Her body has gone through some major trauma and lost a horrendous amount of blood…"
"But she's going to be okay," Harry interrupted, frowning.
"Yes, but…" the nurse hesitated.
"But what?"
"The cause of the bleeding was from a tear in the uterus wall. It seemed that the curse she sustained back in her fifth year had weakened her uterus wall in a way that it wasn't detected in any of the tests done during the pregnancy…"
"So what happened?"
"We think one of the twins happened to kick in the exact same spot as the weakness, causing it to tear. Harry, we had to perform a hysterectomy. Hermione can have no more children."
Harry thought about what he was being told - Hermione nearly bled to death due to an injury she received over five years ago. They stopped the bleeding but had to remove the part of her that enabled them to have children. Children!
"The twins?" he sputtered out, relaxing when he saw a smile cross Madam Pomfrey's face.
"You have two perfect, darling little girls," she told him, "congratulations."
"Girls?"
"They're in protective bubbles," the matron explained, "as they are only in their thirty-forth week. We will keep them there for another four weeks which is when they are full term. But they are healthy and coping well."
"Can…can I see them?"
"Of course."
They got out of the chairs and headed for the still closed doors. Harry suddenly stopped, unsure of what he'd find on the other side. He turned and looked behind him, seeing really for the first time that Ron and his parents were there with him. Harry looked at Ron, asking an unspoken question that his friend understood immediately and joined him as they followed the matron into the hospital ward.
He saw the two golden bubbles that were keeping his daughter's warm and monitoring their breathing and heart rates. Clumsily, he began to make his way to where they were but saw instead the still, prone form of Hermione.
Changing his direction, all thought of his children left him as he came to the bedside of his wife. She was deathly pale, with black smudges beneath her closed eyes. Her hair was still mattered and lifeless, just like her. Harry choked back a sob and sat down, taking her limp hand in his. Silently he told Hermione to come back to him, that he couldn't live without her, that he needed her - that she couldn't leave him. He hoped with all his heart that she heard his pleas.
"Harry." Ron's voice was quiet but it broke through the stillness of the hospital ward like a knife.
"Not now Ron," Harry instructed without much thought, his eyes never leaving Hermione.
"Harry, your daughters need you."
He looked up at Ron then and saw the worry on his face. Knowing his friend was right, Harry took a deep breath, squared his shoulders then followed Ron to the two small glowing spheres. Tentatively, he looked down at the sleeping forms of his little girls and felt a rush of love like he had never felt before.
They were tiny, so very tiny, but both had a mass of black hair and a pinkish, healthy look about them. He and Hermione had been warned about premature babies from Dr Stephens and he knew there would've been wires and tubes if they had been in a Muggle facility. Here, the bubble took away the need for the multitude of monitoring wires while a sole feeding tube entered each baby's nostril, the only sign of their difficulties.
"They're beautiful mate," Ron whispered and Harry tended to agree with him.
It was a long week. Harry spent every waking hour in the hospital ward, splitting his time between watching over Hermione and watching his daughters. Though unable to hold them, he was allowed to touch them through the protective bubble, every little bit of contact precious.
Like predicted, it was a week before Hermione opened her eyes, luckily at a time when Harry was by her side. Still weak, her initial introduction to her daughters was brief but happy, but things weren't right. They still couldn't hold their little girls and the situation was more than a bit frustrating for the new parents.
Hermione was instructed to remain in bed and rest for another week, which she did with little complaint as the girls were placed right next to her. Harry went back to work but only part-time, wanting to spend as much time as he could with his new family.
It was mid October by the time Hermione returned to the Potter Tower, finally deemed well enough to leave the hospital ward. She still spent every day in there, however, watching over her babies with a protective eye.
The girls were identical in every way and the only way they could tell them apart was by the clothes they wore. But as the weeks wore on, their personalities began to emerge to the point where it was obvious one was a bit more dominant than the other.
Hermione had been out of hospital for a week when she, Harry and Ron were making their way to the ward for a visit. Ron was telling them of the rumours of a new threat that had the Auror department on full alert. Neville, who was in his last year of training, had already been caught up with the new dark force and was at the moment being treated at St Mungo's.
All talk of possible troubles stopped as the trio made their way to the make-shift maternity ward. Ron visited every weekend, sometimes with Luna and sometimes (like now) without. Harry marvelled at the way his friend had bonded with the twins and the news of Ron's own impending fatherhood made the visits even sweeter.
The girls were still unnamed although Harry and Hermione had a short-list of possibilities. They were waiting for the moment they could hold their babies in their arms and take them home before choosing their names, wanting to feel their daughters first.
Harry was ready to follow the normal routine, to watch his wife feed the girls before he and Hermione spend some time trying to bond with the protected babies. But this time it was different as they finally heard the news they had been waiting so long to hear.
"Ah, there you are," the matron gushed, smiling, "and Mr Weasley too."
"Is everything alright Poppy?" Hermione asked with more than a little concern.
"Oh, I think so dear," Madam Pomfrey answered, "although we would like to keep them here for one more week, your little ones are strong enough to come out of the bubbles. Would you like to hold your daughter?"
Hermione looked over at Harry who was sure he was mirroring her mixture of shock, hope, fear and joy that flashed over her face. Together, they watched as the bubbles disappeared and the two little girls became exposed to the real world.
The baby who had spent her early life dressed only in lemon, let her displeasure known by screaming loudly. Her sister started to whimper and although her cries didn't match the other baby, she cried none the less.
Harry watched as Hermione reached for the screaming child, cradling the baby in her arms and rocking her back and forth, speaking in low, loving tones. It looked so natural, so right that with only a little bit of hesitation, he did the same with the other twin.
She was so tiny and light in his arms, her perfect little hand grabbing onto nothingness while her face was screwed up with her cries. He reached out to stroke her face, rocking his arms back and forth as he saw Hermione do and slowly the crying stopped. He looked down just in time for her to open her eyes - and Harry gasped with shock.
Her eyes, and those of her sister, had been a dark blue but it seemed that had changed. Looking back up at him was one green eye and one brown, the perfect mix of him and Hermione. He glanced at his wife and an understanding passed between them before she returned her attention back to the now gurgling child in her arms.
"Hey baby Erin Lily Potter," she whispered, "I'm your mummy, and this…" she moved closer to Harry so he could see Erin's face - one brown and one green eye looking back up at him, "…is your daddy."
"Hello beautiful," Harry said softly, "meet your sister, Kimberly Jane Potter. I hope you two become firm friends."
As Harry watched, Erin and Kimberly reached out for each other, their little hands trying to touch. Something within him changed, and emotion a million times stronger than what he felt when Hermione first told him they were going to have a baby pulsed through him. As he looked down on the perfect faces of his daughters, he knew without a shadow of a doubt he would die for them, protect them and their mother any way he could.
And for the first time in his life, Harry cried without caring who was watching.
A/N - just to say, I have a nephew and two nieces, all born premature. Though I'm sure it's different when its your child you see so tiny covered with wires and tubes, it was pretty bad just as an aunt. The strength of these little babies and the care of the doctors and nurses that take care of them is amazing. Also - I went to school with a guy with one fully brown eye and one emerald green eye so it's not totally impossible. Whether it can happen with twins? I don't know.