29 April 1953

Hermione paced around the parlour and nibbled on a scone. Tom sat on the divan with one foot crossed over his knee, drumming his fingers on the velvet beside him.

"I dunno if I'm going to make it," Hermione whimpered. "The newspaper article said that Shepherd was born on the 30th of April. That's tomorrow. How am I supposed to -"

"Patience, Hermione," Tom sighed. "You've made it this far. Tell me how your last day of work was."

Hermione gulped down a bite of scone and glanced down to the bag she'd packed to take to St Mungo's. She reached for the glass of water she had on the low table in the centre of the parlour, and she picked it up to sip.

"Gabriella Huffington is taking over the department until I come back," Hermione said. "I'm planning on taking six months. Gabriella will handle things just fine. I told her that she's welcome to send me owls every now and then."

"I want you focusing on the baby," Tom said. "Even I'm taking some time."

"Yes. Of course. I just don't like being idle," Hermione huffed. Tom scowled.

"Idle," he repeated. "There's nothing idle about motherhood, Hermione."

"N-No, of course not. It's just… I've worked so hard on everything," Hermione said. "I've worked so hard to get all the legislation passed for Ghosts, for Merpeople, for House-Elves. Dobby has promised to visit often."

"I'm sure he'll be here all the time," Tom smiled. "I'm sure he'll bring gifts for the baby."

"That's what he said," Hermione grinned. "He said that he would…"

She paused then, and she suddenly clutched at her belly. She buckled over and cried out with a wretched rip of pain. She stamped her foot and suddenly collapsed onto her hands on the arm of the chair nearby, and Tom flew to his feet. Hermione whined and panted quickly. Tom rushed over to Hermione and put his hand between her shoulder blades.

"Hermione," he asked quietly, "have you ever felt anything like that before?"

She didn't answer. She just leaned heavily onto the chair and whimpered, rocking back and forth a little. After a very long while, she slowly stood and whispered,

"Well, that's labour, then."

"We need to start timing them." Tom felt his cheeks go hot. It was time. The baby was coming. He was going to be a father. She was going to be a mother. "Gronky! Gronky!"

The House-Elf came rushing into the room, skittering on the ground as Tom called out,

"We're going to get Madam Hermione into a nice warm shower, Gronky. Help me."

"I can do it myself." Hermione waddled toward the bathroom, cradling her belly and huffing breathlessly. Tom followed her through the bedroom and into the shiny bathroom, helping her peel off her work robes. Tom said over his shoulder,

"Gronky, get Madam's comfortable nightgown and dressing-gown ready so that when we go to St Mungo's, she's dressed in something cosy."

"Yes, Minister," Gronky affirmed. Tom guided Hermione into the shower and turned on the taps. He helped her find a good temperature, and he stood outside as she shut the door and then began whining again.

"Hermione?" Tom called, but all he got in reply was a long, low groan of pain. Her cry went out for a very long time. Tom opened the door and glanced at his watch. He frowned and eyed Hermione as her wet hair fell before her eyes. She held her belly in her hands and then whimpered softly. She finally looked up and puffed,

"I've lost… my… my water's broken."

"Has it?" Tom asked weakly. "Things are moving rather quickly, it would seem."

"Five minutes apart for a minute apiece. That's when we're meant to go in," Hermione reminded him. Tom nodded. He let her stay in the shower through four more contractions, and then she seemed so weak on her legs that he insisted she come out of the shower and walk around the townhouse with him. He got her bundled in a nightgown and velvet dressing-gown, and he held her hand as he encouraged her to sip water and walk with him. Every now and then she'd stop and buckle over in pain for a solid minute, moaning and hissing in agony. Tom kept timing things with his pocket-watch. They were seven minutes apart now, lasting about forty-five seconds. After awhile, Hermione whispered weakly,

"I'd like to lie down now."

"Of course," Tom replied. He guided her into the bedroom and spooned with her, cradling her belly in his hand and feeling the incredible tightness in her abdomen every time she buckled into a contraction. She sobbed into the pillow and squeezed at his hand, and she frantically gasped,

"Oh, it hurts so badly. I can't think during them now."

"They're lasting a minute now. Six minutes apart. Nearly there." Tom kissed at Hermione's cheek. "I'm the MInister for Magic. I think we should go in now."

"Five minutes," Hermione reminded him. "The Healer said to come in at five minutes."

"We can go in now," Tom said. "You saw the newspaper article. Shepherd's born tomorrow. It's nearly ten o'clock now. They can make you comfortable, Hermione."

"I can do this." He watched tears wriggle out of her eyes and leak onto the pillow. Her fingers suddenly convulsed on the blankets and she screamed, then went silent and tightened up. Tom looked at his pocket-watch. Five minutes. It had been five minutes since the last contraction.

He let her have three more contractions at five minutes apart, lasting a minute each, before he finally insisted,

"All right. We're going in now."

"Yes, all right," Hermione panted, and Tom flung himself from the bed. He rushed out to the parlour and slung the leather Extended bag for the hospital over his shoulder.

"Gronky. We'll be back. Get everything for the baby moved into the bedroom," Tom said. Gronky appeared before Tom, the Elf's eyes welling heavily.

"Gronky is most pleased, Minister," Gronky said thickly. "Gronky can not wait to meet the child, to help care for the child, Minister. Gronky will be a good Elf for the Minister's growing family, sir."

"Yes. Of course. Thank you, Gronky." Tom nodded. He stalked away, but Gronky called,

"Minister! Something came by owl five minutes ago. Gronky did not wish to bother you whilst Madam was in labour, Minister. I have it here, sir."

Tom whirled over his shoulder, unable to imagine what on Earth could possibly be important enough to trouble him when his wife was about to give birth. He went to Gronky and snatched the envelope out of Gronky's hand. He frowned a little as he read the unfamiliar script on the front.

Minister for Magic Tom Marvolo Riddle, it read simply, and Madam Hermione Granger.

Tom tore open the envelope and pulled open the letter inside. He opened the letter and read quickly as Hermione cried out loudly from the bedroom. His heart thrummed in his chest as he read and read again.

Dear Father,

I do not care to give myself too much credit. I like to think of myself as a humble wizard. But here I am, looking back upon years in which you and Mum have devoted yourselves wholeheartedly to the welfare and betterment of the Magical world. And you've always said that you became more determined than ever the day I was born. Allow me to reinforce to you how important that devotion will be for us all. Mum came to you for a reason. We're all precisely where we ought to be.

With love,

Shepherd

"Tom! We need to go right now! Now! Please!" Hermione was calling desperately from the bedroom. Tom rushed in there, tucking the letter into his robes. He helped heave Hermione out of the bed, blinking away tears and feeling his head whirl. His world was upside-down. But everything was right. He took hold of Hermione's hands and whispered in her ear that she was going to be fine, and he Disapparated with her, coming to inside the foyer of St Mungo's Hospital.

"Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe."

"Hermione. I love you. You are so strong." Tom supported her head with his hand beneath her pillow, and as she tossed her head back and sobbed in agony, her glazed eyes flicked toward him and her mouth fell open. She shook her head and insisted,

"I can't."

"Yes, you absolutely can." Tom nodded vigorously. He'd stripped down to a white dress shirt and had rolled up his sleeves, loosening his tie and having mussed his hair. He was a mess, but he didn't care. It was four in the morning. Hermione had laboured and transitioned and was now pushing, and she'd been doing for an hour. They'd given her potions for the pain, but the effort was still immense. The Mediwitch in crimson robes between Hermione's robes said firmly,

"Another big push. Ready? Three, two, one… push."

Hermione bore down and ground her teeth, her chin driving against her chest and her face going the colour of a beetroot. She wrenched so hard at Tom's hand that he thought she'd tear his fingers off, but he couldn't care one bit. He kissed at her forehead and murmured into her ear,

"Good job. Yes. Well done. Keep going. Push."

"Keep pushing," the Mediwitch droned, and Hermione shrieked with the effort. Suddenly the Mediwitch exclaimed,

"The baby is crowning! I can see the head! Another push in three, two, one… push! Push, Madam Granger, push!"

Hermione yelled so loudly then that Tom had to try not to recoil. Instead he burrowed his face into Hermione's shoulder and huffed against her ear,

"Well done. You can do this, Hermione. I love you. I love you."

There were three more pushes, and then suddenly there was a great noise, a strange squawking sound Tom had never heard before. He sprang up from Hermione's shoulder and gasped. Tears came unbidden to his eyes almost at once, on instinct, as he realised just what he was hearing.

And then he saw him.

Hermione sobbed and clasped her hands to her eyes. "That… is the most beautiful sound… I have ever heard…" she whispered frantically.

"Your baby boy, Minister. Madam Granger." The Mediwitch held up a bare newborn covered in purple-red slime. The baby was shrieking and writhing. "What shall he be called?"

"His name is Shepherd," Hermione said, crying hoarsely as she stared at the baby. "Shepherd Gaunt Riddle."

The Mediwitch Scoured the baby clean and then placed him on a Magical scale before wrapping him in a Warmed blanket. Meanwhile, another Mediwitch tended to Hermione, working to Vanish the afterbirth and then Scour up the great bloody mess of the birthing process. A third Mediwitch cast charms over Hermione to cleanse her of her sweat and grime, and made her sip some water. Finally, the baby was brought over, and Hermione held out her shaking arms as she asked,

"Shall I feed him straight away?"

Tom watched in fascination as one of the Mediwitches helped Hermione get Shepherd latched onto a breast and encourage him to suckle. Hermione stared down at Shepherd and pet his hair, which was black and very fuzzy, sticking straight out from his head in a wispy halo.

"Ooh, look at his precious hair," Hermione purred. "He's lovely."

"He's perfect," Tom said a bit numbly. He thought of the letter Shepherd had sent him from the future, and he gulped. There would be a good time to show that to Hermione, he thought. Not right this moment. Right this moment, she needed to treasure Shepherd. The three of them just needed to be together.

Everything else could wait.

"How are you two doing?" Tom came walking into the parlour to find Hermione nursing Shepherd on the divan. She looked a bit wan, a bit tired, but she smiled peacefully and insisted,

"He's the best baby who's ever lived."

"Do you hear that, Shepherd?" Tom came and pet Shepherd's fuzzy black hair. "Your mum thinks quite highly of you. I've got the Daily Prophet, Hermione. Front-page news."

He held up the newspaper, and Hermione chewed her lip as she studied the article that they'd been shown in 1947. There it was, word for word, exactly as Madam Mutatia had shown them.

MINISTER FOR MAGIC TOM RIDDLE WELCOMES FIRST CHILD.

Tom Riddle, who has been lauded as one of the most effective and revolutionary Ministers for Magic despite his astonishing youth, has welcomed his first child with his wife, Hermione Granger. Madam Granger, Head of the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, is known for being the mind behind all of the recent legislation aimed at improving the welfare of House-Elves and strengthening relations between wizards and Beings.

The baby, a boy called Shepherd Riddle, was delivered safely of Madam Granger at St Mungo's Hospital on the 30th of April. Both mother and child are said to be doing quite well. Minister Riddle delivered the following statement to the Daily Prophet.

'My wife Hermione and I are exceedingly grateful for the outpouring of support we have received since the birth of our wonderful son, Shepherd Riddle. We are overjoyed to be parents. Rest assured that I shall be resuming my duties as Minister shortly, but as I take a brief paternity leave, wizarding Britain is in capable hands.'

The staff of the Daily Prophet wish Minister Riddle and Madam Granger every health and happiness and congratulate them most heartily on the birth of their son.

Tom set the newspaper down on the low table and came to sit on the divan beside Hermione and Shepherd. Hermione pulled Shepherd off her chest and brought him up to the cloth over her shoulder. His tiny face rested on her chest, and Tom stroked at the baby's halo of black hair. He sighed and murmured,

"It's all going to be marvelous."

Hermione reached to cup Tom's jaw in her hand. She brought his face nearer to his until he leaned over Shepherd to kiss her. His lips touched hers, and she whispered against him,

"We're together. All of us."

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading this sequel to Inimica, Amator. My next work, Convict and Construct, will be a sequel to my Tomione fic Revision and Rescript. I appreciate your readership.