Losing Megan

UNC Normal UNC 4 199 2003-08-25T21:41:00Z 2003-08-25T21:43:00Z 1 567 3235 UNC 26 7 3795 10.4219 Clean Clean MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

A/N- This isn’t meant to be a sequel to Things to Come, but it very well could be. It was written at a drop of a hat, but I dedicate it to Gil- one of the best writers in the fandom, and one of my best friends.

Dead.

Why?

Harry lay in bed, pretending to be asleep for Hermione’s sake. After hours of lying there (and many tears), she had finally fallen into a restless slumber.

Sleep was the furthest thing from Harry’s mind. He was still in shock from the day’s events. It felt as though someone had ripped his insides out. It couldn’t be true, he thought. A day ago he had felt his unborn daughter moving inside his wife.

He was eagerly anticipating becoming a father, especially since he never had one of his own. In spite of that (or perhaps because of it) he had been very excited (and nervous) to try his hand at parenting.

But now Hermione’s bulge was gone. So was a piece of his heart, one that Harry doubted would ever return.

It seemed like ages ago that Hermione had shaken him awake, complaining that something didn’t feel right. They had rushed to the nearest hospital, worried, but expecting everything to be okay. Even if Megan was born premature, they were sure that she would be healthy.

Instead of a bright red baby, a motionless blue form had appeared.

“The umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck,” the healer told them. “There was nothing that anyone could have done to help.”

Nothing.

They had been sent home with a tranquilizing potion and the hospital’s condolences. Harry and Hermione cancelled their appointments for the day, but they did not tell anyone what had happened- even Ron. The last thing they wanted was to have the entire Weasley clan coming over. They needed time alone, to try to understand.

So they sat all day, hand in hand, on the couch. After a while, Hermione lost control, her loud, heart-wrenching sobs echoing all over the house. They never said a word to each other.

Much later, when dusk fell, she had risen to go to bed, and Harry had silently followed.

He didn’t know what time it was now. He just knew that it seemed like eons since he last closed his eyes.

Harry was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he did not notice that Hermione had stirred.

“Harry?”

He turned to face her. Her sobs had been replaced by silent tears pouring down her face. Harry didn’t say a word. Instead she scooted over towards his wife and took her in his arms. Hermione nestled into him, drawing support from his presence and touch. Harry remembered long ago, at Hogwarts, when <i>he</i> was the one being held. Now the tables were turned.

After a few minutes Harry heard Hermione, buried in his chest, say in a muffled voice: “Why?”

One simple word, but it was what had been on their minds incessantly for the past twenty-four hours.

“I don’t know. I wish I did.”

“Me too.” After a moment Hermione raised her head off of Harry’s chest and met his eyes. “Now what?”

“We try again.”

“And if this happens again?”

“Then we try once more. It’s a risk we take, like with so many other things we do. We’ll have to live with the circumstances, whether they’re good or bad.”

She studied his face intently.

“Do you still want a baby?”

“Do you?”

They both hesitated, and then said in unison, “Yes.”

“Now?” he asked.

“No.”

“Me either.”

Hermione reached for Harry’s hand and took it in her own. “Thank you.”

She didn’t need to say more. He understood.

And the tears came. Harry wasn’t ready for them, but once they started, he didn’t want them to stop. It felt so good to finally be able to let it all out.

After a minute, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you.”

They laid there in each other’s arms for a long time, crying softly. Eventually exhaustion took them and they both fell into a deep sleep.