Author's Notes: :'(
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August 20th, 2001 …
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Harry smiled, looking around the bedroom. Now that they'd transfigured a few things to accommodate the room, like transfiguring a pen into a large bed, Harry smiled at his work. This was one of the few rooms he `decorated' without his wife's help. The walls had charms on them to look as if they were a soft yellow colour, the décor of the room matching the walls. Their carryon bags were aligned against the wall, since the two decided that it'd be better if they didn't even try to unpack. The large mirror on the wall, accentuated with the desk that Hermione put her make up on, and the extra little things they had.
He exited the room, wondering what his wife and son were doing. Walking into Andrew's room, he smiled when he saw that his room exactly like it did back in California. There were pictures and drawings of Tigger from Winnie the Pooh, and his blue crib nestled near the corner, his toys randomly scattered across the room, since he was currently playing with them. Hermione was baby-proofing the room, making sure that there was no way he'd be able to leave his crib if he awoke in the night (which, Harry remembered, he did that once) and alert the two adults if he was in any discomfort.
Andrew, seeing Harry, squealed and toddled over to him as fast as his legs would let him. "Papa!"
Harry smiled, picking his son up, and walked over to his wife. "So, how is his room?" he asked. "Do you need any help?" he continued.
Hermione shook her head without turning around, while making sure she'd covered everything. "No, Harry, I'm all right." Turning around, she noticed that Harry didn't have a shirt on and that his khaki shorts were riding low on his hips, which gave her a very good view of his lean, nearly hairless chest, and tight abs. She arched an eyebrow, "And why, Mister Potter, are you shirtless?" she asked playfully.
He shrugged. "The apartment doesn't have central AC, apparently, like ours did, and I forgot the cooling charms when I started working on the room," he answered truthfully, letting Andrew down again so he could play.
She nodded and walked out of Andrew's room, keeping the door open so Andrew could access the room at his pleasure, and went to their bedroom. She inspected the room, and nodded in approval. "Nice," she murmured, especially when her eyes landed on the bed. "Very nice," she murmured.
"You're too horny," Harry said teasingly as he waved his wand, muttering the cooling charm for the bedroom.
"I don't see you complaining," Hermione muttered, leaving the room to place cooling charms everywhere else.
Harry smiled. It was nice to have his wife on good terms again. Even though they rented the apartment two days ago, Harry had forgotten to ask for a slight `tour,' to actually see if the place even existed. Once they saw the place, they instantly re-agreed, vowing to move in the next day. They were put off by their plans for a day, because Andrew wouldn't stop fussing, and Hermione was feeling a nauseous. Finally the next day, when Hermione evaluated herself healthy enough, the three-person family `moved in' to the moderate sized apartment.
"What are we going to do for food?" Harry asked a few minutes later while in the kitchen, looking at everything. It was bare.
Hermione arrived a few minutes later, holding Andrew, who was happily playing with Hermione's dangling earring. "Well… it'd be rather unhealthy to eat out all day, not to mention it'd cost a lot of money." Before Harry could intervene, Hermione held up her hand. "I know that money isn't an issue, but food from restaurants or eating fast food isn't quite healthy."
Harry nodded. "True. How about we'll go shopping today?" he suggested. "We can get a few pots and pans, some food, and we can go from there."
"That sound's all right," she nodded. "But Harry, don't forget, we have to visit my parents soon!" she reminded him, though she knew there was no need to.
"All right," Harry called back, going into the bedroom to retrieve a simple, v-neck white shirt. Going into the living room, sitting on a settee that they transfigured from a nail, Harry closed his eyes. The trip's events are finally catching up to me, Harry thought, closing his eyes in exhaustion.
He didn't know how long he slept there, but when he woke up, he found himself covered in one of Andrew's blankets, his cell phone ringing. He groaned, sitting up, wondering when in the day he'd taken his glasses off. Ignoring the thought at the moment, he picked up his cell phone and flipped it open. "'lo?" he mumbled, sleep still evident in his voice.
"Harry!" shouted the voice of Matthew.
"Mmmm…?" asked Harry, leaning on the arm of the couch, still tired. "Wha', Matt? Somethin' wrong?" he asked drowsily, though he was waking up slowly.
"Yeah," answered Matt. "I mean, no. Yeah, no! Oh I don't know!" he moaned. "Christi said she might be pregnant… and, I got so scared… but then she said she took a test, and now… now apparently she's not…" He trailed off.
"Right…" Harry mumbled. "So she's not pregnant… and you're, what?" he asked.
"I don't know, Harry!" he told him, his voice desperate. "I… she's been crying since yesterday, and now… now, I don't know! She… she was like all sad… and then she said she was sort of getting used to being pregnant." He took a long breath. "I mean, I know that she wasn't really pregnant, but she thought she might be… and now, she's like… like she lost the baby before she even had one."
"Look," started Harry, hoping to console his friend, "I remember when Hermione had several pregnancy scares. It's perfectly normal. I mean, yeah, sure, we were already married, but even when she said there was the chance she could be pregnant, we were so elated. I was ready to go to the stadium and announce we were having a child, but then we found out she was just late. Not pregnant, just late." He sighed, "She was devastated, because she thought she was going to be a Mother… And, I bet you anything that Christina felt the same way."
He heard Matt sigh. "Yeah… I mean, I love her," he chuckled, "Yes, I love her, but… we're not ready for children yet!" he exclaimed.
Harry nodded. "But you should be happy that you're having a child! This kid is a bit of you, and a bit of her. The fruit of your love, the outcome of passionate love, and all that sweet shit," chuckled Harry, glad to be fully awake now.
He heard Matt laugh, and Harry was glad he was fulfilling his job. "Yeah, I guess." He heard him breath deeply, only to let out a rather loud sigh. "Great, Harry, now you've got me all sad!" he exclaimed.
"Sorry," mumbled Harry playfully, "but it's what I do."
After a short silence, Matt announced, "I think I'm going to propose to her."
"Seriously?" asked Harry. "How, when?"
He chuckled. "Surely not like you! Seriously, proposing after a game?" Harry could nearly hear his eyes rolling playfully. "You are so romantic!"
"Shut up, Anderson!" Harry grinned. "You know I was never good with that romance stuff!"
"Don't I know it?" Matt muttered. "But anyways… I don't know what to do," he confessed. "I mean, I know I wanna propose… but I don't know when or how."
"Yeah, I was going through the same thing," Harry confessed. "But then I thought, `just screw it all,' and proposed right then and there." Harry chuckled, "You don't know how nervous I was."
"Yeah, I remember when you told me you were going to propose. That was laugh." He paused. "But… I don't know… I was thinking of doing something like you: just keep the ring in my pocket, pick a random time, and propose right then and there, hoping that she doesn't faint."
"There you go!" exclaimed Harry. He heard Hermione enter the apartment, and arched his eyebrow when he saw her carrying a few grocery bags while pushing Andrew's stroller. "Anyway, I think I'm going to go. Good luck with Christina, and tell me when you've proposed, alright?" he asked.
"Sure. I'll see ya, bye."
"Bye."
He flipped the phone shut and stood up. Wondering how long he'd slept, he checked his watch. It was nearing two `o clock. Walking into the kitchen, he saw Hermione putting away food into the refrigerator. Andrew was eating cut up pieces of a strawberry that were in a bowl which was levitated in the air, just staring at his mother put food away.
Harry smiled at his small boy. Even at nearly a year old, the child was still so small. Perhaps it was because he and Hermione were always thin and short, also contributing to Andrew. He bent down and placed a soft kiss to his child's head, and then proceeded to help his wife with putting the groceries away.
After they finally felt that they were settled into their new apartment, hours later, Harry, Hermione, and Andrew were on their bed, just lying down. Andrew was on Harry's chest, happily resting there, occasionally reaching out for something and receiving Hermione's fingers in return. Harry smiled, snaking an arm under Hermione's head, wrapping it around her shoulder, and bringing her closer to her husband and son. Smiling contently, Hermione snuggled closer, overlapping one of her legs with his, placing a gentle hand on her son's back.
"I love you," whispered Harry. "You, Andrew, and our little baby."
"I love you three, too."
A short while later, the three fell into a restful sleep, unmoving the whole night.
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Harry and his family walked into the shop, looking for some flowers for Hermione's parents. He saw some beautiful tulips, but Andrew seemed especially fond of the sharp thorns of the pretty red and white roses. Harry chuckled, picking up the boy, and braced him on his hip, walking around and trying to make sure Andrew didn't hurt himself.
Hermione had gone to the back, already having picked out the flowers for her father and mother. A few minutes later, she came back, two beautiful bouquets in her hands. "Have you picked the flowers yet?" she asked, placing them on the top of Andrew's stroller.
"No," he answered, still looking at the flowers. There were so many flowers, he realized. He didn't even know the names of some. "Err… how about these?" he asked, looking at the ones Andrew was staring at.
She nodded and picked out ten of the flowers. She then went to the back, arriving a few minutes later. Placing the bouquets next to hers on the stroller, Hermione absently placed her hand on her abdomen, rubbing it.
"Is something wrong?" asked Harry, concerned.
She shook her head, smiling. She gave him a soft kiss, taking his hand. "No, nothing's wrong. I'm just a bit hungry," she informed him, blushing slightly.
He nodded and quickly went to the register, paying for the flowers, Andrew still in his arms. Arriving a minute later, he put Andrew into his stroller and took Hermione's hand, the family leaving the store. "Where do you want to eat?" he asked. "I never was fond of hospital food, myself." He shuddered, remembering when he ate hospital food once when Hermione was in labour. He nearly choked on his salad when the doctors went into the hospital cafeteria and informed him of his new baby son.
She shrugged, though she led them to a nearby fast food restaurant. Once entering, she ordered her food, while Harry just ordered a drink. Andrew wasn't hungry, so he didn't need anything. After receiving the food, they paid and left, walking through the streets of London.
"Do you want some, Harry?" she asked, munching on a chicken sandwich. "It's really good."
He shook his head, slinging his arm around her shoulder. "I'm all right, love." He kept one hand on the bar of Andrew's stroller, making their way towards the hospital, which was only about a fifteen-minute walk from their apartment.
They entered the hospital, quickly walking into the elevator, pressing the button `3' and waited until they reached the floor. They manoeuvred themselves to the Grangers room, and once they got there, they noticed that there was a nurse in front of the door. They tried getting in, but the nurse wouldn't let them.
"Why won't you let us see my parents?" Hermione asked, her anger starting to flare.
Calmly, the nurse replied. "Because, Miss, your father, you say, is in critical condition. He-"
"Hurry up!" shouted someone from inside, and the door whipped open, nearly knocking the nurse off her feet, and very nearly hitting Harry on the side. "We're losing him fast, now move!" shouted the doctor, and started moving the stretcher that Hermione's father was on, towards the Emergency Room.
Harry quickly moved the stroller to the wall, and held Hermione tightly, knowing that if she didn't move, she was going to be rammed head on into her father's stretcher. Once they were out of view, not even ten seconds later, Harry addressed the nurse, who went inside the room.
"Wh-what happened?" he asked in a strangled whisper. Hermione followed him, her eyes wide, pushing the stroller along with her.
"Granger has just had a severe heart attack, and is now failing," she answered, checking on Hermione's mother.
"Da-dad?" she whispered. "Oh Lord…" She shook her head, her knees starting to buckle.
Harry nearly ran to her side, leading her to a nearby chair. He sat on the arm of the chair, rubbing her shoulders. "What about her mother?" he asked, his voice soft.
"She's doing all right… for now," answered the nurse, turning to leave the room.
"Wait!" Hermione said suddenly, standing up. "D'you… I mean…" She sighed, sitting back down. "Never mind…"
Arching an eyebrow, the nurse nodded and left.
Hermione closed her eyes, leaning onto Harry's side, ready to break down. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered. "He just… Oh Lord…"
Harry picked her up and sat down, cradling Hermione in his arms. "I'm so sorry, Hermione," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair. "He'll be all right. He just has to be."
He felt tears soak his red, long-sleeved shirt, and he saw Andrew staring at the two intently. "My father," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. "He… oh Lord, he could die…" She shook her head, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
"Hermione, please, don't think like that," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "Think of the positive," he went on. "Like pretty soon, your father will be out, and he'll be healthy again. The same with your mother."
"You promise?"
He sighed, his hand falling to rest on her thigh. "You know I can't promise anything. I'm not a doctor, and I can't help them in anyway, except getting them a better doctor."
"I doubt even that'll help," she said helplessly. "They're… it's just…" she shook her head again, tears leaking from her eyes.
"Shh, love," he whispered, rubbing her thigh. "Hopefully the doctors will help your father."
"Take me home, Harry," she murmured. "Take me back to the apartment. I don't want to be here right now. Just…" she trailed off, and slowly stood up. "Please," she whispered. She felt pathetic, too dependent, though she knew she was the opposite. She was usually able to do anything on her own, without asking for her husband's help, but right now… she felt like her unborn child, depending completely on one person.
Sighing, he rubbed his face with his hand and stood up. "All right," he nodded. He gave her a soft, sweet kiss, "Let's go." Taking Hermione's hand in one, the other grasping onto Andrew's stroller bar, the family made their way to the apartment.
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Harry dialled Matt's cell number, hopeful that the young adult was free. A few rings later, a deep voice said, "Hello?"
"Matt…" moaned Harry, laying on the couch and covering his eyes with his arm. "I'm sorry I had to call, but I didn't know what to do."
"What's up, man?" asked Matt, concerned. "Is it about Hermione? Andrew? The baby?" He gave a soft gasp, "It's… it's not `bout her parents, is it?"
"Ding ding ding, we have a winner," Harry said dully. "Hermione's father just had a heart attack, and he's in critical condition."
"Damn," he muttered. "I… Wow… Is-is he gonna be all right?"
Harry shrugged, though he knew Matthew wasn't able to see him. "I don't know, Matt." He sighed. "Hermione is in the bedroom, taking a nap. Andrew's off playing with his toys in his room, but I'm so worried about Hermione…"
"What happened to her?" he asked, concerned about his friend. "Is she all right? I mean, I know this is probably taking a large toll on her, but… she can't just give up."
"I know, man, I know." He then proceeded to explain: "She… You know Mione's always independent and strong? Well, she's… she's like broken right now… And… I'm scared."
"Wow, just… make sure she doesn't do anything drastic, like commit suicide or something."
Harry sat ramrod at Matthew's statement. "Suicide?" he asked, his voice suddenly three pitches higher than usual. "She'd never do that!" he defended his wife, standing up.
"That's what my friend said, but her cousin died," murmured Matt. "But look, don't get scared or anything. I'm sure Hermione would never do that!"
Harry started walking towards their bedroom and opened the door. He saw Hermione under the covers, seemingly asleep. But he wasn't convinced. He walked towards the bed, moving close to her, hearing her soft breathing, as her hand automatically curled around her stomach.
Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief and gratitude. "She's still living," Harry assured Matt. Leaving the room, he hissed, "Don't scare me like that!" Andrew walked in less than a second later, latching onto Harry's leg, starting to chew on the jean material.
My little guy's hungry, thought Harry, picking up his son and supporting his on his hip as he stood up.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Listen, I got to go," Harry informed him. "Andrew's hungry, and its really hard cutting fruits with one hand."
"All right," he said. "But wait!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Andrew's birthday is in a few weeks, and if you're still in England, do you think I could visit, too?" he asked. "I mean, I just want to see my Godson on his first birthday!"
Harry chuckled, letting Andrew down and looking for a knife. He went to the refrigerator and took out a strawberry and banana, setting it on the cutting table. "Sure, I'm sure I can Portkey there and come back. Do you want to arrive the day before, or some other day?" he asked, washing the strawberry and cutting it up.
"Maybe a day before his birthday, I guess," answered Matt. "I don't want to intrude or anything, so I'll just stay a day later, too."
"You couldn't be intruding," he assured, moving to the banana next. Cutting the banana in half, he put it aside, and started cutting the other half into small pieces for his eleven-month-old.
"Okay, well, I'll just let you feed your child in peace."
He smiled, "All right, bye."
"Bye."
Flipping his phone shut, he placed his cell phone on the counter and stuffed the half of the banana into his mouth. Quickly finishing, he took one of the three bowls they bought and put them into it. "Wingardium Leviosa," he muttered, pointing at the bowl. He put the bowl to Andrew's height, and watched in amusement as Andrew followed the floating bowl into the living room. In there, he placed it on the coffee table and saw his son eat.
A few minutes later, Hermione came in. She wore a pair of Harry's boxers and his old, tight (though it was a little loose on her) tank top. Her eyes were blood shot, and she slowly walked to Harry. She lay on the couch, placing her head on his lap, watching her child happily eat strawberries.
Harry placed one hand on her stomach, caressing it and started running his fingers through her hair. They didn't talk, but just watched their innocent child.
They didn't know how long they sat there, but soon, Harry's cell phone was ringing again. "Accio cell phone," Harry murmured, and caught the phone when it zoomed into his hand. "Hello?"
"Mister Potter?" asked a deep voice.
This isn't Matt. He brought the phone away from his ear, and looked at the number. It was a London number. "Yeah, this is him," he confirmed.
"This is Thomas Evans, a nurse from St Thomas' Hospital," informed the man. "Your father in-law has just died of heart failure," said the man. "Is it too late to come here? There are some details we want to go over," said the man.
"Yeah, it's too late. My son is getting tired," he informed the man. "I… We'll…" He sighed, looking down at his wife, seeing her still looking at Andrew. "Just… just give us some time. We'll… be there tomorrow, or something." He considered buggering it all, but decided against it, knowing it'd be too much for Hermione. "Just… I'm going to go," said Harry.
Shutting the phone, he let a tear slip from his emerald eye. This… Dammit! Hermione looked up, having felt the tear fall on her cheek. "Are you all right, dear?" She sat up, sitting next to him, cradling his face with her hands.
He shook his head, taking her hands in his. "I'm… Oh…" He wiped the tear away, shaking his head. "I'll tell you tomorrow, sweetheart. Just… let's got to sleep, okay?"
She arched an eyebrow. "I'm not a child, you know," she smirked. "Just tell me."
He shook his head. "Please, love, not right now," he nearly pleaded. He internally cursed himself as he let another tear fall.
She looked worried, and it clearly showed in her voice: "Are you all right?"
"Yes."
She sighed, standing up. "If you say so," she murmured, taking Andrew's empty bowl and going into the kitchen.
Harry angrily wiped the tear away, but it was no use: another few tears fell.
Author's Notes: Wow, I feel like crying. (But I won't, `cause it'd ruin my eyeliner. Haha, I know, such a girly girl.) :'(
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