A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. Or Mission: Impossible. I just liked the title. Sorry.

Part I

The wizard emerged from the midnight-blue tent, shaking his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes. He was waiting for something; he looked around continually as he casually made his way to a large rock and sat upon it. He looked bored for a moment before something cracked in the distance and his head snapped up, his beady eyes scouring the woods before him. Deciding it must have been an animal, he returned to his bored state.

Something rustled by his feet, shifting dead leaves aside as it slithered by, and in one swift movement the wizard's thick arm swung down and captured a small yellow and black snake. It writhed in his hand, and he guffawed as he brought it close to his face. "Be a good little snake or I'll pull your little head off," he crooned to the squirming creature in a strange, hissing tone. The snake seemed to understand somehow and went limp in the wizard's hand, defeated.

"Guerra!" came a shout, and the wizard looked up. A taller, cloaked wizard was emerging from the trees, tucking his wand into his robes. "Put it away, Guerra," the wizard snapped, his cold, pale eyes boring into the first wizard's dark ones. "Those silly creatures won't do you any good."

The wizard called Guerra grunted and set the snake down, where it slithered away gratefully into the trees, narrowly missing one messy-haired, green-eyed wizard who was crouching behind a rather wide oak.

The crouching wizard fumbled in his bag for a moment, cursing under his breath as he sorted frantically through the mess inside. The wizards by the tent had continued their discussion:

"Is everything in order?" asked the taller of the two.

"Just as you wanted. The others are in place to finish the job tomorrow."

"Good work, Guerra, very good, indeed."

The green-eyed wizard finally succeeded in extracting a purple package from his bag, which he immediately tore open, stuffing the squishy contents inside his ears with a grimace. He slipped the package, embossed with the letters WWW, back into the bag, leaning a little further around the tree to better hear the wizards whose language was suddenly completely comprehensible to him.

"You'll see, Guerra," said the taller wizard, smiling malevolently. "Once he is dead, Brazil will be ours."

"Oh, not you again," said Ginny exasperatedly as she swung the door open.

Her mother regarded her with a rather disapproving eye. "Is that any way to greet your mother?" she sniffed, and Ginny, though rather annoyed, gave in.

"Oh, all right then, come in," said Ginny, sighing, and her mother stalked past her into the sitting room. "I only wish you lot wouldn't come and check on me every two minutes," she added as she closed the door, hoisting James, who had been tugging at her skirt, into her arms.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," said Molly disdainfully, settling herself into a rather squashy armchair. "I've only come to see my favourite daughter –"

"I'm your only daughter!"

"– and this is the welcome I get? It's shameful, Ginny," Molly finished, folding her arms with an irritated "hmph!".

Ginny softened slightly and set James on the couch, lowering herself down beside him. He immediately slid off the couch and toddled over to the toy bin in the corner, tipping it over and pulling out his favourite stuffed Quaffle.

"All right, I'm sorry," Ginny said, putting her hand on her mother's. "It's just that with all of you popping in ten times a day I can hardly get anything done."

"We're only looking out for you, dear," said Molly stiffly, still apparently rather offended.

"And I appreciate it, I really do," Ginny told her honestly, "but I'm not made of glass. I can manage a few days without Harry."

"You're due any day now, Ginny," said her mother, and Ginny laughed.

"You don't have to remind me," she said ruefully, rubbing her swollen belly. "This little bugger lets me know about fifty times a day that he's too big for his home in there." As she spoke, the baby kicked her in the ribs, and she winced. "Point taken," she told her belly. "If I happen to run into my uterus, I'll tell it to move things along."

Molly chuckled, and Ginny managed a smile despite her discomfort. "I remember when I was pregnant with the twins – the two of them kicking me in the ribs, always making mischief in there!" Her smile faded for a moment, her expression clouding, but a moment later she smiled again, albeit not as brightly as before. "In any case, you need to take it easy," she told her daughter. "Save your energy for the birth; you'll need it."

"I won't be giving birth until a week after Harry gets back," said Ginny calmly. "And then he'll be here to help with everything."

"Just because James came on time doesn't mean this baby will, too," warned Molly. "He might turn up today or tomorrow, you never know."

"I haven't had any contractions yet, Mum," Ginny said patiently. "Everything will be fine. Now will you tell the rest of my insufferable brothers to stop dropping in every two seconds?"

Molly sighed. "I suppose so." She stood up, gathering her purse and coat. "You'll Floo if anything happens?"

"Of course," said Ginny, kissing her mother on the cheek. "Take care."

"You, too, darling," said Molly, smiling. She bent and kissed the top of James's head – he ignored her and went on playing with his toys, and Ginny chuckled.

"He takes after his father," she said, grinning.

She walked her mother to the door and watched from the doorway as Molly walked down the pathway, stopped at a particular spot several feet from the house, and Disapparated. Shivering in the late night April chill, Ginny shut the door and headed back to the sitting room, where she stifled a laugh at the sight before her. James had fallen asleep in his heap of toys and was absentmindedly sucking on the handle of his toy broomstick. Smiling, Ginny knelt down (with difficulty) and gently picked her son up, pulling the broomstick away as she murmured in his ear, "It's time for bed, love."

He stirred slightly in her arms, mumbling words of nonsense, and laid his head on her shoulder. She slowly carried him up the stairs, slightly out of breath due to the baby sitting under her ribs. James was asleep by the time Ginny laid him in his cot, but he rolled to the side and unconsciously reached for the stuffed hippogriff he never slept without, his little hand closing on it as his breathing slowed and evened.

Ginny laid a kiss on her son's head, smoothing back his untidy black hair, and then left the room as quietly as she could, shutting the door behind her. She put a hand on her belly for a moment, grimacing; it was hard as a rock and quite tight, causing her a great deal of discomfort. She rubbed it in an attempt to get it to loosen, and after a few moments the skin became soft again, and the pressure on her ribs eased. She sighed and trudged to her own room, laying down on the bed. There was a mountain of dishes in the kitchen sink and laundry to be folded, but what she wanted more than anything right now was to sleep.

Actually, what she wanted more than anything was to have her husband next to her.

She sighed and rolled onto her side, falling asleep within moments.

"So?" said Ron, looking up as Harry entered the tent. "What did you find out?"

Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sat down beside Ron, with Dean Thomas on his other side. The five Aurors sat clustered around the small dining table, poring over research notes and photographs.

"I'd wager it's nothing," said Seamus Finnigan dismissively. "They've pulled this sort of rubbish before, haven't they?"

"Well, it's not nothing," said Harry seriously, running his fingers through his hair again. "The tip-off was right. They're planning something big."

"That's ridiculous," said Ernie Macmillan, folding his arms. "In fact, this entire mission is ridiculous, in my opinion. What have these blokes ever gotten in trouble for? Selling Dark artifacts and Muggle-baiting, which –"

"Which are rather serious crimes, too," said Dean quietly.

Harry nodded at Dean and continued. "It doesn't matter if you don't think they're up to something, Ernie," he said, addressing the blond man across from him. "We had a confidential tip-off, and it's our duty to investigate it."

"But –"

"If it doesn't come to anything, you'll be lucky to go home early," Harry interrupted. "And as it happens, it has come to something." He shook his head, not quite sure where to start. "I wish I'd found out more," he said finally. "I only got the Translation Tar out as they were finishing up."

Ron grinned. "I'll tell George it was useful," he said, and Harry grimaced.

"Tell him I've still got tar in my ears," he said ruefully, and the others chuckled. "But what I found out," said Harry, sobering as he leaned forward, "was..." He took a deep breath and swallowed.

"They're going to kill someone," he said finally.

A tight pressure in her belly forced Ginny awake, and she groaned, glancing at the clock; it was half past three in the morning. She muttered darkly to herself as she rolled over, rubbing her belly. The taut skin loosened slightly before tightening again. She sat up slowly, placing her hands on her belly. She could feel the baby moving slightly, but not kicking as energetically as he usually did. She waited a few minutes and then felt another tightening, this time accompanied by a wave of pain in her lower back. She stifled a moan, placing her hands on either side of her to steady herself.

It was only after her belly had loosened again that she became aware of the dampness beneath her. Frowning, she turned on the lamp and blinked in the sudden bright light, trying to focus on the bed. When her eyes had adjusted slightly, she slid out of bed and pulled the covers back.

Where she had been sleeping there was a wide damp spot. She felt her nightclothes; they were wet as well, particularly below her belly.

"Damn it," Ginny muttered under her breath.

She set about gathering her things, Summoning her hospital bag from the closet along with a fresh set of clothes. After changing quickly and tucking her wand inside her clean robes, she lifted the bag and went across the hall to James's room, feeling slightly guilty.

"James?" she whispered, shaking her son gently. "James, darling, wake up."

He murmured in his sleep and opened his wide brown eyes, blinking owlishly at her. "Mumma?" he said sleepily. "Wan sleep..."

"I know, sweetheart, but Mummy needs you to wake up." She helped him sit up, trying to ignore the dull pain beginning in her back. He held his arms out and she lifted him out of his cot, rocking him gently to soothe him. "Come with Mummy, James," she said, holding his hand, and they walked down the stairs together to the fireplace.

"Hold tight, now, James," she told him, and he clung to her leg as she scooped up a bit of Floo powder and tossed it into the fire. "St Mungo's!" she cried, and the fire lit up green. With James still hanging onto her leg, she stepped into the fire.

As they whirled past several fireplaces, James whimpered in fear and Ginny held his head against her belly, protecting him from the walls of the fireplace. At last the fireplace of St Mungo's spun into view, and Ginny and James toppled out just as another contraction hit. Biting back a cry of pain, Ginny made her way awkwardly to the front desk. So early in the morning, the hospital was nearly deserted save the few Healers moving through the hallways and the receptionist at the desk, who was nodding off with her chin propped against her hand as a quill scratched across several rolls of parchment absently, scrawling squiggles across all sorts of formal-looking documents.

"Excuse me," said Ginny, and when the receptionist didn't wake, she cleared her throat loudly. "Oi!"

The receptionist awoke with a snort, her glasses sliding down her face.

"Mmph? Yes, how may I help you?" She pushed her glasses back up, stifling a yawn as she glanced at Ginny and did a double take.

"I'm in labour," said Ginny, trying not to moan in pain. "Could I have a room, please?"

The receptionist just stared. "You're – you're Ginny Potter," said the receptionist, awestruck.

"Believe it or not, I already know that," said Ginny irritably. "Now if you could kindly stop gawping at me and find me a room, that would be bloody fantastic."

The receptionist shook her head to clear it, still clearly starstruck. She glanced down at her documents and shuffled them for a moment. Ginny, beginning to feel impatient as pain filled her body, fought the urge to snap at her. "Room 203 is free. Just down the hall and to the right," she said, marking Ginny's name down on a bit of parchment.

"Thank you," said Ginny curtly, and, taking James's hand, walked down the hallway to room 203 and pushed the door open. She set her bag in the corner and leaned against the bedframe, breathing heavily through the pain.

"Mumma?" said James, tugging at her robes. "Mumma okee?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart," said Ginny, slightly breathlessly as she went to sit on the edge of the bed. "Your little brother's just giving me a bit of trouble, that's all."

"Al," said James, patting Ginny's belly, and she smiled.

"That's right, James," she said, putting her hand on top of his. "Al. Your little brother. You can meet him very soon. Would you like that?"

"Al!" said James, hugging his mother and placing a kiss on her belly. "Hi!" he whispered to the bump, and Ginny chuckled.

"You need to go back to sleep," she told him, pulling out her wand and conjuring a small cot for him to sleep in. She lifted him and placed him gently in the cot, where he curled up, yawning.

The door opened behind her as she sat back down on the edge of the bed, leaning into another contraction. "I heard there's a baby coming!" trilled Ginny's Healer.

She tried to smile, but it turned out as more of a grimace. "That's what I've been told," she said dryly, and the Healer chuckled.

"Have your waters broken yet?" she asked as she motioned for Ginny to lie on the bed and spread her legs.

"Yes, at around three this morning," said Ginny.

"Well, you're dilated to a four," the Healer said, checking her. "It should progress quite quickly from here."

"Lovely," said Ginny, wincing. "Would you mind finding my family and husband?"

"We'll try to contact them," the Healer promised, and then she slipped through the doors, leaving Ginny only with her own thoughts and the nagging sense that something was not quite right.

A/N: Well, this was meant to be a oneshot. Somewhere during the process of writing this I developed a convoluted plot that involved many turns, and it became a threeshot. (Okay, it's not that convoluted or surprising, to be honest, but it does have a few twists!) Part two of three should be up next week, or if I get reviews requesting it earlier. Hope you enjoyed!