Two weeks until the actual due date and Nymphadora is feeling incredibly antsy. Antsy to the point of pacing up and down the hallway because she read in some muggle book from who knows when that pacing induces labor. Twice already have there been false alarms, and she knows that if there's another one, Remus might just have a heart attack. There is still a dent in the wall from the last time; when he was in such a hurry to get her to St. Mungos that he didn't watch for the desk, tripped over the leg and went careening into it, causing the top left corner to push back into the wall and stick. Remus was the one who ended up really having to go to the hospital, needing a deep cut mended as Nymphadora sat in the waiting room, practicing her breathing exercises as the medi-witch went over false alarms with her for the second time. Tonks had scowled and nodded and pushed herself up from the chair, feeling very grumpy and incredibly tired. Poor Remus had had to bear the brunt of it, but he knew that it was for a very good cause indeed. Thus he could live with it couldn't he? Even if he did feel a bit silly with a bandage covering part of his head. Tonks laughs slightly as she relives that moment again, sitting on the edge of the couch as she sighs loudly, popping another one of the chocolates into her mouth. She is roughly the size of Dudley Dursley at approximately age ten, but is to the point of not even caring. The only thing on her mind right now is getting that thing out. She admires the rings on her left hand and leans back slightly against the couch, sighing happily as the recollection of their small wedding is pushed away so she can concentrate on perhaps sleeping a bit before Remus gets home from finishing up her work. Tonks knows she ought to feel badly that he's the one doing her paperwork, but the only feeling she has right now is the lovely, satisfying feeling of euphoria one can only get from finishing off an entire box of expensive chocolates and knowing that it is going to have no effect on their weight whatsoever.

Besides, she can always morph it off afterwards anyway. She hasn't seen her actual body in years, who knew what it looked like now. She certainly didn't want to see it. The door of Grimmauld opens, but Nymphadora knows that it's not Remus, that it's just Kingsley but all of a sudden she feels very whale-like and wishes that she could keep all company away. She can't though, she has to let them in; it's not their house. Though the order has communally decided that since Nymphadora's flat is too small, and Remus well, doesn't have one, the newlyweds and their baby can live there. As long as they keep it tidy for meetings and aren't too loud. Ha.

Looking up from her very comfortable position she can see that Kingsley is wiping off his shoes from the rain on the welcome mat and moving to hang up his coat.

"You can take off your shoes please." Tonks states in a very pompous voice, hoping that it sounds as if she owns the place. It has the desired effect and she can see the rich, brown eyes roll and the feet comply with her orders before the man walks gracefully into the room.

"Well Nymphadora, you look positively gorgeous today." He comments with a smirk as he notes the unwashed hair and raggedy sweater that sort of makes her look like the bag lady down at the end of the street.

"Why, thank you Kingsley, I didn't know you noticed. Means so very much." Nymphadora returns while her eyelashes flutter overdramatically before that simple action causes a sneeze.

That simple action causes the man to laugh; a deep, rumbling sound. "Remus is a very lucky man indeed." He tells her as he sits down on the chair opposite her favorite couch (which, if you look closely, you can see has a spot worn in it where she sits every day) and rests his arms on the sides tiredly.

"I'll tell him you said that, sometimes he needs reminding." Nymphadora jokes as she moves to stand up. Better to start now, since by the time she finishes asking if he wants anything, she will probably only have risen to an eighty five degree angle to the couch. "Can I get you some tea?" She asks, this time she's made it nearly ninety and is quite proud of herself.

"That's alright." Kingsley answers as he takes out a folder and sets it on the table. "I sneaked you some lesser files that they won't miss. You can go over them and tell me if you see anything." He tells her with a wink as he stands up, watching her carefully as she slumps back down into the pillowy cushions and sighs with relief.

"I love you so much right now Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Don't let Remus catch you saying that." The other man teases, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have my own family to get back to. And if there's anything I've learned from my wife it's that it's not a very enjoyable thing to be around a woman who's eight months pregnant and impatient by nature."

"Thanks a lot. Don't let Remus catch you saying that; don't give him ideas." Nymphadora mumbles, though she's smiling. She looks over at the file folder on the coffee table and wonders what she would do without such good friends.

"See you later then, and hopefully with someone extra eh?" Kingsley grins and pats her shoulder before she watches him leave out of the corner of her eye and relaxes a bit more against the couch, her eyes closing even while she tries to muster the energy to get to the file. But Merlin she's just so tired.

That is the last thing she thinks of before she blanks out and falls fast to sleep.

Remus has had a very long day. Mad-Eye saw fit to give him the papers he needed all out of order. Then the only quill he could find in a ten mile radius wrote with pink ink and it kept misspelling things. Now it's pouring down rain and Remus is standing in front of the doorway with his wand, trying to aim it properly while the drops fall in front of his very tired eyes. He prays that perhaps Nymphadora will hear and come to his rescue, but it's right about now that she usually takes a nap and is incredibly hard to rouse. Damn.

It really is quite a pathetic sight; his clothes are incredibly drenched and hanging off of him like a sort of saggy skin, his hair is sticking to his head, and the raindrops are zigzagging down his face emphasizing the stubble he's gained from not shaving in a few days. Finally he's inside and he can hear the soft snoring his wife has gained in these later months of her pregnancy. He finds it rather endearing now, not so much at three o'clock in the morning when he's almost positive she woke him up to tell him it's time but it's really just his paranoia waking him up and then he can't get back to sleep because of the loud breathing beside him. O' the tribulations of Remus.

The former professor has decided he will make the dinner tonight, and even if that just consists of beans on toast and a full tea kettle he thinks it ought to suffice. As it's cooking, he pulls out his newest book and begins to flip through the pages, finding where he's left off so he can get some more calm reading time in before the baby comes. Then he's sure all Hell will break loose. In a very good way of course.

Nymphadora can smell the food in the other room and she struggles to quietly sit up and waddle her way in, her hand moving to rub his back as she sighs quietly, her other hand on her stomach (which she's sure is just going to fall right off with the direction it's going).

"You alright love?" She asks very quietly, wrinkling her nose slightly before remembering that it was last month that beans on toast made her have to run into the loo. Thank Merlin. "You seem very tired." She hopes he's okay, she knows that this false alarm thing has been wearing both their nerves down.

"Yes, I'm just fine." Remus reassures with a kiss to her forehead as he places their plates on the table and pulls out her chair for him.

"Such a gentleman." She murmurs as she sits down and realizes how hungry she really was. They are both finished within minutes and soon find themselves in the living room; him reading, she lounging and humming slightly off key. The mood is far more relaxed.

"Let's get some rest." Remus suggests, helping his wife up as she gives a small noise at such offense.

"No…I was so very comfortable." She protests as she pouts and closes her eyes tightly.

"You'll be more so in bed, believe me. I promise."

"Fine."

Within minutes, they are both lying in bed, limbs entwined as much as possible, and her head on his chest.

Two hours later and Nymphadora is feeling those pesky pains again and she groans, curling her toes and trying to ignore them.

Unfortunately, this time they did not want to be ignored, and all of a sudden Nymphadora feels as though she's had a bit of an accident and she's trying to backtrack in her mind as to when the last time she wet the bed was and why the Hell was she doing it now? She knew there was lack of extreme bladder control, but since why was it so hard to-

Oh.

Oh. Oh my.

Oh. Oh my. Oh my God.

Two minutes and one incredible realization later, Nymphadora is poking Remus' shoulder in a panicked motion. "Remus…" She hisses quietly.

Remus is dreaming about quiet. He's a gigantic sunflower on a hill and is enjoying a calm, summer day just listening to the breeze when all of a sudden his petals are being tugged and he's feeling rather annoyed. Then the tug-er happens to be Nymphadora and he feels mad at himself for being so paranoid before feeling himself be practically shoved off of the bed.

"Bloody git! I'm trying to wake you up." Tonks is saying through gritted teeth as she tries to sit herself up.

"I'm sorry!" He apologizes profusely as he rushes to his feet. "It's just, we've had so many false alarms and I'm so paranoid." He tries to explain, "how do we know this isn't just another one?" He questions with a little sigh, obviously failing to register the expressions on his wife's face.

"That is how we know it's not." Nymphadora points to the very damp sheets and then to her face. "This is how we know it's not."

'Oh.' He thought to himself.

'Oh. Oh my.'

'Oh. Oh my. Oh my God.'

Her eyes might as well have been red; Remus stood at attention now and was ready to do whatever he was told; which was, he imagined, to get her to St. Mungos as quickly as possible.

Thank Merlin for suitcases, thank Merlin for quick changes of clothes, thank Merlin for being able to floo into St. Mungo's tea shop.

Everythingis fine, until they ask Remus to stay in the waiting room until Nymphadora could be situated in a room. He thinks he is going to spit.

Sitting down in one of the seats, he picks up a Witch's Weekly and tries to flip through the pages, praying that he will be allowed in for the birth.