A/N: This is the sequel to my story, "You Can Call Me Daddy". In that short Ron and Hermione found out they were pregnant, and here's the conclusion of that discovery…
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing JKR's wonderful characters :)
Oh, Baby
There was quiet murmuring in the kitchen of Godric's Hollow, the occupants trying to be considerate of their guest. They tiptoed around and hushed each other when a slight noise was made, though their actions were going completely unnoticed. Their guest, unlike the people in the kitchen thought, was wide-awake, rocking slowly in a chair by her bed, humming a little tune.
Hermione Granger-Weasley loved Harry and Ginny Potter very much. The two had been absolutely wonderful, awfully kind and attentive. They made her cookies and cakes and satisfied any cravings she might have. Ginny always brought the fluffiest pillows and Harry always brought home a new book just as Hermione was finishing her last. She knew it was wrong, but she rather enjoyed being waited on hand and foot, though she knew it wouldn't last much longer.
It wouldn't last, because any day now, she would give birth to her first child.
There was a reason she was staying at Godric's Hollow, and that was because Ron was busy making sure he got the promotion he deserved. Hermione missed her husband terribly, but she knew that the business trip to Bulgaria would surely secure Ron's position as Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. It was a job he desperately desired and there was no way she'd whine and make him not go.
Well, she had wanted to, she really wanted him by her side, but she knew in the long run it would be worth it. He would be home before the expected date, which was Christmas, so he had three days before Hermione was allowed to kill him.
So, she was staying at Godric's Hollow, a rather large house in a secluded wooden area where no Muggles or even Wizards could find without actually knowing where it was. After Harry had defeated Voldemort (along with the rest of the Order and his good friends), he had rebuilt and moved into his parents' old home, his old home. The Boy-Who-Lived deserved it.
It pained her not to be in her own house, the house she and Ron had made into a home. It was a cozy two story in a Muggle neighborhood that they had purchased three years ago. They had chosen this location because it was just unfair to expect Hermione's parents make arrangements around magical people to visit her daughter's family. Ron had been a little worried, but he was already blending in wonderfully: he had learned to drive and loved it.
Baby's (they had been calling her large stomach simply 'Baby') room was already painted and ready to have an occupant. The walls were white at the moment, but as soon as Baby entered, the color would change depending on the sex. The walls already contained photographs of their relatives, and Hermione had made sure that both sets of grandparents were in equal distance to Baby's crib.
"Ooh," Hermione whispered, feeling her baby kick. She put her hands on her rather large stomach, silently grateful that she would soon be able to wear her old clothing. As much as she loved the feeling of connection she had with Baby, it was time to get back to her normal self.
Baby kicked again, this time, rougher.
"Play nice," she giggled. Already he was rough, like his father.
He. It was almost painful how much Hermione wanted a little boy to call her own. She knew it was probable that her child was going to be a boy, considering that her husband was a Weasley, but there was always that chance, and she prayed that for the first time in her life she would go with the flow. The two soon-to-be parents had refused to find out the sex, knowing that there would be just that much more excitement the day the baby arrived.
…Though, there was something Ron and Hermione did know that the rest of the family didn't…
The former Head Girl wanted a little redheaded son. She wanted him to like to read, but also be good at Quidditch. She wanted Ron to play wrestle with him on the rug and she wanted to teach him all about the Muggle world; she wanted her father to have a grandson since he didn't have a son to carry on the family name. A boy would be wonderful, a boy would be perfect, and a boy would be everything she and Ron had ever wanted from a child. Just a sweet little—
"OW!" she shrieked, the tremendous jerk in her stomach sending shock waves through her body. "You little buggers!"
"Hermione?" Harry's voice called from somewhere downstairs. It sounded worried, and it was immediately followed by the sound of two pairs of footsteps. Ginny must have been with him when he heard the scream.
Hermione was trying to push herself up from the chair without letting her legs buckle beneath her; what was that? Her back throbbed and she put a hand to her head, trying to stop the dizziness that occurred.
The door burst open and Harry and Ginny entered with wide, frantic eyes. They had been walking on glass these past couple of days with her, and anything remotely wrong would send them into panic attacks.
"What happened?" Ginny exclaimed as she rushed over, helping Hermione stand upright. Harry was standing in the middle of the doorway, one foot in the room and one foot in the hall; he was ready to Apparate out and get the help they needed.
Shaking her head, Hermione managed to smile and push Ginny away,
"It's nothing, really, I think the little one just kicked immensely hard."
Harry and Ginny didn't look any more relaxed, and actually didn't seem to believe her. Harry finally entered the room so he could help Ginny maneuver Hermione to the bed.
"Well, if it was just that, maybe you should lie down so she doesn't knock you over," Ginny said nonchalantly. Hermione and Harry instantly groaned: Ginny was desperate for a niece. The redhead looked on in feigned confusion and the other two simply rolled their eyes.
It wasn't as if she didn't have nieces, the first Weasley grandchild was a girl, Ginny just wanted Hermione to have a little bundle of pink to call her own and for Ron to actually deal with raising a girl, since he couldn't handle one for most of his adolescence.
"No, I don't want to lie down, that's why I was in the rocking chair," Hermione noted casually, the pain having subsided a good three minutes before. She wondered if it could have been a contraction, but completely dismissed the thought; Baby was due on Christmas, and it was going to be the best present she had ever received.
But then, another shot of pain raced through her lower back, making her stumble and plop rather heavily onto the bed. Ginny squeaked and Harry paled, but Hermione just grimaced and tried to remain calm.
"Seriously…" she groaned, "I'm fine."
Harry and Ginny looked dubious, and stood over her as if waiting for something to explode. Hermione huffed and patted her stomach in a reassuring manner,
"Baby isn't due for another three days—"
"Approximately," Harry interrupted, green eyes wide. "Which means that it could happen within the range of that, do you…d'you think you're going into labor?" All color that remained on his face dissolved and Hermione was actually quite moved by his worry.
"Harry, it can't happen today," Hermione argued. "I can't travel by Floo or Apparate, and you two don't have a car! How on Earth am I to get to a hospital today? That's why Baby is waiting until Ron comes home so he can take me."
"But—" Ginny exclaimed, looking extremely nervous.
"No buts!"
"Hermione!" the redhead said, her hands shaking. Hermione felt her face flush in heat and she tried to push herself up.
"Ginerva Molly Potter," she scolded, making bother Ginny and Harry jump, "I am not going into labor! I am not going to the hospital without my husband, and I am not going to let you to pressure me into going!"
The two stood for a moment in silence, and with a slight nod of her head, Ginny indicated something on the ground to Hermione. With a huff, the woman looked down at the ground the best she could over her large stomach.
"Oh."
On the ground between her feet was a small puddle of water that Hermione hadn't felt leave her body. Her water had broken.
She looked back up at her friends, tears welling up into her eyes.
"Oh! Oh, Harry, what am I going to do?" she cried, reaching out for her best friend. Harry immediately put an arm around her in support, though he looked just as clueless as she felt.
"Er...well, you must've read up on this, what do you think we should do?"
Hermione let out a wail of a cry and dropped her head onto his shoulder, feeling helpless. This was wrong, why was she going into labor now, without Ron here to help her through all of this mess?
"We don't have to go anywhere, yet," Ginny said calmly, though she was a ghostly pale. "I can contact Dad—he might be able to send over a Ministry car."
"But what if Baby comes now?" Hermione gasped, holding herself as if she was going to lose everything. "My doctor is a Muggle, how on Earth am I going to get to him in time…oh no! What if I have Baby here?"
"You'll be fine, Hermione," Ginny soothed, helping Harry walk Hermione around the room. "You know I'm training to be a professional Healer, you're in good hands!"
"You're not going to be an obstetrician!" Hermione yelled, eyes wide with fear. She couldn't possibly have Ginny deliver Baby! "What could you possibly know about delivering babies?"
"We have to know almost everything there is to know in case of an emergency, Hermione!" Ginny argued back, swishing and flicking her wand all around the room, transfiguring objects into pillows and sheets and other necessities. "And I think this is an emergency!"
"I'll call your dad, Ginny," Harry said quietly, in obvious shock, leaving his wife to hold up Hermione. Hermione moaned as another contraction racked through her body, leaning into Ginny, and she let out a few shuddered breaths.
"I can't believe this," Hermione muttered, putting a hand through her hair. Ginny laughed softly and sat Hermione in the rocking chair again.
"I'm going to try and calm you down, okay?"
"I'll only calm down if Ron's here," she responded, growing weepy. "I can't believe this!"
"Well, you have to," Ginny explained, using a spell to untangle and braid Hermione's wild curls. She placed some cooling charms on her body and instantly Hermione felt relieved.
"Promise me you know what you're doing, Ginny," Hermione said quietly, not daring to turn around and look her friend in the face. She had realized that she was probably going to give birth in this house, since giving directions and getting down the wards that had been put up around Godric's Hollow could take a very long time. Only people that knew where it was could get there with a simple Apparition, and even that left them at the end of a rather long walkway.
"I promise, Hermione, I won't let anything happen." She smiled and took Hermione's hand over the pregnant woman's shoulder. "Now…tell me some names for our little girl," Ginny said in a teasing voice. Hermione sighed, patting her stomach.
"I've told you them a million times, and you know we want a boy, Ginny."
"But I always go against the curve, so what are some girl names?"
Hermione bit her tongue and prayed that she was having a boy before she released some of the girl names she and Ron had decided on,
"Emily is our number one name, and then there's Allison, but I've always like Delaney. Ron doesn't like that one very much, but who knows."
Ginny cooed as she expertly created a rather well conditioned room for giving birth. Well lit, the bed was shrunk to the size of one in a hospital, and there were plenty of things for Hermione to hold onto when she was in pain.
"I like the boys' names, better," Hermione laughed, earning a groan from Ginny. "Jacob and Anthony, aren't those precious?"
"Not naming them after anyone?" Ginny noted not that she minded. There were a million Weasleys; they didn't need doubles of any names.
"Oh, it'll be Jacob Arthur and Anthony Remus," Hermione explained, looking hopeful. "Which do you prefer?"
"They're both wonderful names, but I'm going to have to go with Emily."
"Ginny!"
"I'm sorry! I'm just standing by my niece! She's not enjoying that you're calling her a boy!"
Hermione huffed and then bent over herself as another contraction ripped through her. Ginny ran a warm hand down the back of her friend, knowing that it had to be immensely painful.
They remained in silence for the next five minutes, Hermione going through only one other contraction. Her mind swirled, and she realized something that might be very important to the Healer who was going to perform the delivery.
"Ginny?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I tell you a secret? Don't tell Harry but…since, you're probably going to be my doc—Healer…"
Ginny swelled up, loving the sound of her being a Healer. She walked around to the front of the chair, staring at Hermione with a warm smile.
"Sure, tell me anything!"
With a deep breath, Hermione spilled her secret, and Ginny shrieked, making birds fly out of their trees.
Once Harry was out of the room, he bounded down the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him. What was Hermione thinking? 'It couldn't happen today!' wasn't she the most sensible person on, well, Earth?
Harry skidded into the kitchen and slid across the floor into the living room, where the fireplace was. What was he going to say? How on Earth was he going to manage out a complete sentence when his best friend, someone he's known since he was bloody eleven years old, was going into labor in the guest room of his house, a house that you couldn't get through without proper permission and the tearing down of wards?
"Breath, Potter," he muttered to himself. "The Burrow!" he yelled into the fire, and Harry waited for the connection, hoping one of the Weasleys was in the house. Hoping? How much shock was he actually in? There was always someone at The Burrow, always.
Except of course, today.
He released an extremely frustrated growl and pulled his head out of the fire, falling back onto the balls of his feet. The hospital? That would take even more time, considering that they had to go through double the wards a Weasley would. Why did no one leave him alone after the defeat of Voldemort? All those reporters and Death Eaters who hadn't been caught—they were the reason behind so much security; how were he and Ginny supposed to sleep soundly if they knew they could be attacked at any moment?
"St. Mungo's!" he cried into the fire, knowing that a secretary had to pick up, at least.
"Good morning, St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, how may I help you?" the kind voice of the secretary said, a large smile on her lips. Harry stuttered for a second, trying to think of the simplest response,
"M-my friend, she's gone into labor."
"Right."
Harry waited for her to continue, but she just stared at him as if he was supposed to know what the hell was going on.
"Well?"
"State your name, please," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the whole entire world.
"Harry Potter," he grumbled.
"Really?"
Harry groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. Quickly and just long enough to for her to see, he moved his hair out of his face and showed her the lightening bolt scar.
"Wow, I never thought I'd actually meet you!" the woman exclaimed, looking delighted. She called over her shoulder, "Hey, Susan! I have Harry Potter on the line!"
"Excuse me," he said loudly, narrowing his eyes. The woman turned back to him and smiled brightly.
"Right then, what's her regular Healer's name?"
Harry blinked a few times, his mind swirling. Regular Healer? This was not heading in the direction he wanted.
"Oh, er, she doesn't have one there—she's Muggleborn, she had decided to give birth the Muggle way—"
"So then why are you contacting St. Mungo's?"
Harry glared at the woman, but she seemed unscathed. He clenched his fists, hoping that she didn't think she would get away with such a snappy attitude in such an important situation.
"We can't get to her doctor," he explained quickly, "she's gone into labor early, it wasn't supposed to happen—"
"That's not very good planning."
"SO BLOODY SORRY!" Harry roared, completely frustrated. "Is there anything you can do for me other than waste time? My friend is in labor!"
The roaring miffed her slightly, but it seemed that she was used to such explosions.
"Okay, she can't Apparate nor can she ride Floo, so you're going to have to find another way of transporting her here."
"I know that. That's why I contacted you."
"Where are you?" she asked, completely ignoring his seething voice.
"Liverpool," Harry sighed.
"Ooh, that's far, isn't it? Not sure if we have that area on our maps…" He heard papers flipping and she looked back up at him with unfeeling eyes. "Yeah, the closest landing spot would be about half an hour away."
"Could you make it directly to my house?" Harry asked, sounding hopeful.
"No."
Harry sighed and dropped his head. This was getting him nowhere. If she didn't answer the following question the way he wanted, he was going to have to disconnect and pray that Ginny knew what she was doing.
"How long do you think it's going to be to send an ambulance…or whatever?" Harry realized for the first time that he had no idea what Wizards used in emergencies like this.
"How does she feel about traveling by Portkey?"
"She can't travel by Portkey!" Harry exclaimed, looking abash. The woman rolled her eyes, sighing.
"First pregnancy?" She clicked her tongue as Harry nodded. "She can, but seeing by your reaction, she'll refuse and panic which is not good for the baby. Hmm…well, we do have ambu-lenses, but our experienced driver just went on break—I'll contact him if you like?"
"Yeah. Do that." Harry was just relieved that he had some sort of help on the way. "I'll make sure he can get in. It's 38 Wright Road, okay?"
"Yes, I have it all, thank you, Mr. Potter. But I'm warning you, it'll probably be about an hour--"
"Thanks a lot, now just come!" he exclaimed and then pulled his head out of the fire, completely exhausted. What a tiring woman! Thank goodness he didn't have to contact anyone else, his back wasn't feeling too well after all of that time kneeling.
Harry stood up and stretched his arms, reaching far back as possible. He groaned and while he held the stretch his eyes gazed upon the pictures on the mantle, and his heart dropped. There was a picture of Ron, Hermione, and him on the couple's wedding day.
"Oh hell," he muttered, falling to his knees again. He had forgotten about Ron, who of course, should've been the first person he contacted. His mind searched for the hotel his friend would be staying at, and Harry chuckled as he stuck his head into the fire, "The White Ferret, Bulgaria!"
Please, please PLEASE, let Ron be in his room, with any luck that Harry had left after all these years, let his best friend be in his room.
"Velcome to The Vite Ferret, how can I help zu?" a man said, looking extremely bored.
"Ron Weasley's room, please, and it's an emergency," Harry said quickly, rapping his fingers rapidly. The man chewed on some of his bubble gum and nodded, his head disappearing.
Harry's heart was beating so fast that he felt like he was going to collapse, why was this taking so long?
As if by some miracle, Ron's face appeared, and he stared questioningly at Harry.
"Harry? What is it? Is Hermione okay?"
"It's Hermione, Ron," Harry managed, getting over the shock of seeing his friend, "She's gone into labor—"
And then an immensely loud shriek filled the house, jerking Harry out of the fire and up the stairs, closing the connection with Ron.
A/N: Next up: Ron freaks out and finds himself teaming up with an unlikely pal, and the birth of Baby :)