Before we start, I'd like to give a big, huge thank you to Bingblot, who's beta-ed this entire story and been wonderfully supportive. May we have many more ventures together!
A Most Advantageous Match
Epilogue
Harry had never been so terrified in his life.
This was more terrifying than the basilisk he'd battled in his second year at Hogwarts. It was more terrifying than dueling Death Eaters. It was even more terrifying than realizing he was in love with his wife.
Hermione was giving birth to their first child.
Oh, he was elated, to be sure. He'd always wanted a family of his own. As a child, his one wish was to have his parents back, and along with them a horde of brothers and sisters. The next best thing was to have his own horde of children - and now that he'd fallen for Hermione and found in her the most wonderful wife he could imagine, he knew he'd have the perfect family with her. Little bushy-haired children raiding the library and crashing their brooms…he couldn't wait, and he couldn't wait to create a second child with his beautiful wife.
He also knew the risks, however. Everyone knew the dangers inherent in childbirth that claimed so many young women, and he couldn't bear the thought. Losing Hermione would destroy him, completely - he needed her. He needed her beside him each night, to smile at him each morning, to help him raise their children…he didn't think he could do it without her. Even if he knew the first thing about being a father, which he didn't, a child needed a mother…and he didn't think he would ever find a woman worthy to take Hermione's place.
Each sound of pain or distress from the bedroom they'd set up for the birth, the doorway of which he was pacing outside, unsettled him a little more. He wished he could go inside and be with her to at least hold her hand, but Mrs. Granger and the healer had forbidden it. Birthing was difficult enough, they said, without a man panicking, and he couldn't deny that he probably would panic at the smallest sign of trouble.
A hand on his shoulder interrupted his pacing. Harry turned to see Lupin smiling amusedly at him. "Relax, Harry," he said. "She's a strong woman - she'll be just fine."
Harry sighed and nodded. "I keep telling myself that, but I can't help worrying."
"Your father was the same way," Lupin said. "Even Sirius's special firewhiskey couldn't calm him down."
Harry laughed. "Special?"
"Intensified, of course," Lupin grinned.
A sharp cry from Hermione caused Harry to turn toward the door, blanching. Lupin patted him on the back. "Try to remain calm."
Needless to say, Harry was anything but calm as Hermione's sounds of pain intensified minute by minute. He was about to burst through the door and demand to know who was torturing his wife when another cry stopped him - a different kind of cry. A baby's cry.
Harry rushed in the door, and then immediately regretted it. The bed was a bloody mess and the healer was holding up a strange, purplish, gunk-covered creature.
"A girl," the healer announced to the room at large, and Harry finally met his tired wife's eyes.
Her lids were drooping and her brow and hair were drenched with sweat, but a quiet joy filled her eyes, and it touched his soul. He didn't know it was possible, but he loved her more than ever.
He hurried to Hermione's side and kissed her soundly, in spite of the presence of the healer and Mrs. Granger. She smiled at him. "We have a daughter."
Harry grinned. "So we do. You're amazing, Hermione."
She let out a shaky laugh as he helped her sit up. "I'm sorry I didn't give you an heir, though. Next time, perhaps."
"Actually," Harry said as she leaned against him, "I managed to change the clause entailing the estate away from the female line. It doesn't matter if we have ten daughters; the estate will stay with them."
Hermione beamed at him, but then her smile turned wry. "I hope you know I don't intend to have ten of anything."
Harry laughed, but was distracted as the healer approached with the newly-cleaned child bundled in a fresh blanket. Hermione took her gratefully, cradling her head with infinite tenderness. Harry felt his heart clench as he watched his wife and daughter - his family.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Hermione said quietly, angling herself so that Harry could see the baby better.
"She is," Harry said, looking down at the tiny face. She was sleeping already, evidently exhausted from being born - for which he couldn't blame her. Her head boasted a riot of fuzzy, dark brown curls. He could already tell that she would have Hermione's pert little nose, and he wondered what color eyes she would have. Her mouth moved absently and her tiny fingers flexed against the edge of the blanket.
"What shall we call her?" Hermione asked, her voice tight with unshed tears. He knew his voice would sound the same.
"I don't know. I think she needs a name as pretty as she is."
Hermione stroked her small hand absently. "What about Lillian? We can call her Lily…."
Harry's throat tightened at the gesture, and he wrapped his arm about his wife's shoulders. "Sounds perfect."
The End
Well, thank you all for coming along for the ride! I suppose I should put you all out of your misery now and tell you…that I've decided to write a sequel.
Yes, it will involve some D/G, with Draco perhaps getting a bit more of his share of the comeuppance, as some of you have commented on. :P It will also feature Harry and Hermione's journey into parenthood and perhaps a few visits from other characters as well.
I haven't decided on a title yet, but you'll know it when you see it, I think. Until then, goodbye, and thanks for all your support!