Author	Magic of Isis
Challenge	This fic was written for the Trio Fuh-Q Fest in answer to the challenge: Hermione in the delivery room, Harry and Ron attempt to be supportive but find it trying.
Title	And Baby Makes Four
Summary	What's worse than an anxious father-to-be?  Two anxious fathers-to-be.
Warning	May be offensive to religious fanatics.
Word Count	8,800
Rating	PG-13
Notes	Many thanks to my beta, Kate, who spurred me on to inject more humor into my story.  She also provided an awesome list of 'D' words. All rights to these characters are owned by others and I'm making no money. Please don't sue.

 

 

 

Oh, dear God, no! thought Hermione, as she stared at the bright blue cross on the pregnancy test she'd purchased from a Muggle pharmacy.  There were two tests in the package so you could take it twice, just to be sure.  She had briefly wondered how hard it could possibly be to pee on a piece of plastic so that you'd need to do it twice, but that was beside the point now. There was no doubt about it – she was definitely expecting.  She hadn't really needed either test to confirm it, but here they were: two blue crosses, boldly mocking her carelessness.  She had a precious new life growing within her; who she could mold into a caring, responsible citizen.  As this realization fully hit her, she leaned over the toilet and threw up.

 

It wasn't enough that she'd made the biggest mistake of her life by leaving her two best friends – the loves of her life – in a tiff over sex, of all stupid things.  Ron and Harry had been badgering her for sex all the time.  For a while, it had been thrilling to be with them, together as a trio. They were very innovative lovers, and she freely gave as much as she got.  (Well, that time she cast Petrificus Totalis on them in their excited states was pretty mean, but she'd more than made up for it afterwards.) But they were twenty-two year-old males with the insatiable sex drives and maturity levels of an average sixteen-year-old.  Soon it had seemed like they didn't even listen to her ideas any more.  They just wanted her body – all the time.  She'd withheld sex from them to see what they would do and then it became really unbearable.  After Harry and Ron realized their moping wasn't getting her into their bed, they'd decided to drive her mad by enjoying each other as loudly as possible whenever she sat down to study. Like she would be able to resist that! It was then that she realized she had to move out of the flat they shared in favor of something with a little more privacy, if for no other reason than to concentrate on her studies.

 

As she was working up the nerve to tell Ron and Harry of her decision, she was unexpectedly swept off her feet by Dan, a brilliant, handsome, mature, dedicated, Muggle doctor.  Hermione had met him while doing research at a Muggle university for her internship at St. Mungo's.  Hermione lusted after him at once, nearly drooling over his shiny blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a cute little dimple on one cheek.  Dan wined and dined her, treated her with respect, and was interested in her ideas and her research.  He said all the right things at the right times, and told her every day that she was beautiful.  He brought her flowers on Valentine's Day, even though they'd known each other only a few weeks.  It wasn't long before they moved in together.

 

It only took about four more weeks for her enthusiasm for Dan to wane, though.  He was, she realized, everything that Harry and Ron were not: responsible, hard working and even-keeled.  However, he was not any of the things they were: fun-loving, adventurous, spontaneous or unpredictable.  Dan was not intense and passionate like Harry, nor was he enthusiastic and impetuous like Ron.  In short, he was boring.  Hermione had wanted a sex life that was a bit more subdued, but when Dan made love to her...well, she finally had empathy for how Ron and Harry felt about Professor Binns' lectures.  Plus, Dan was so uptight, she doubted she'd ever get him to try that thing with the leather strap that drove her wild... Still, she might have stuck it out if she hadn't decided that Dan needed to know she was a witch if they were to continue their relationship.  That conversation hadn't gone well at all. In the end, there was much screaming and shouting, accusations were hurled and, finally, a memory charm was cast.  Hermione broke up with him the next day and moved in with her parents.

 

So, less than three months after leaving her beloved Ron and Harry, she was living in her parents' Muggle home, carrying another man's baby.   Hermione Granger, the former Head Girl of the greatest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world, had forgotten to do a simple contraception charm merely because she was out of the habit of doing magic.  In all her years of friendship with Harry and Ron, she'd managed to get into and out of a lot of tight spots.  But she was at a loss as to how to get out of this one.  And what was she going to say to them: The Boy Who Spent Way Too Much Time With His Degenerate Twin Brothers To Take Anything Seriously, and The Boy Who Lived And Now Had 'Issues'?

 

Hermione brushed her teeth and, as she curiously examined her profile in the mirror with a towel shoved up her blouse to simulate a baby, she heard a gentle tapping on the bathroom windowpane.  Looking up, she saw Hedwig patiently waiting.  Hermione quickly opened the window and removed the rolled up parchment from Hedwig's leg.  The message was short and sweet:

 

 

Hermione – we heard it didn't work out with the drippy doctor.

We're sorry and we miss you.  Please come home.

Love, Ron and Harry

P.S. We promise to use silencing charms if we want to mess around without you.

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

Thwack…….…thwack…….…thwack…….…thwack…….…

 

"Accio Quaffle," said Hermione.  She caught the ball with one hand as it flew at her and set it down on the writing desk. 

 

"Her-my-nee," moaned Ron, "what'd you do that for?"  Ron and Harry were lobbing a Quaffle as low over Hermione's head as they dared while they lounged in comfortable armchairs located in opposite corners of the living room. He glanced at Harry who was giving him the "uh-oh-we're-in-trouble-again" look.

 

"You two are driving me mad," Hermione said without looking up.  "You're like two toddlers clamoring for my attention.  Can't you see I'm busy?" She was about three feet into her missive, writing notes feverishly.

 

Ron hoisted himself out of his armchair and approached the desk.  Not realizing he was there, she jumped a little as he said, "Who are you writing the book to, anyway?"

 

Hermione set down her quill and turned to face him. "I'm trying to finish my independent study project before I have the baby.  The midwife said he could come any day now, and I still have several loose ends to tie up.  And my back is killing me today. So I'll thank you to take your nervous habits elsewhere."

 

Ron scooped the ball from the desk and tossed it quickly to Harry, who was not expecting it.  He lunged out of the chair to catch it, but his amazing Seeker reflexes failed him, and it rolled off his fingertips, colliding with an antique vase.  Shards of cobalt blue glass flew everywhere as it crashed to the floor.

 

Harry quickly drew his wand and repaired the damage.  "Er, Ron, let's go outside for a bit," he said, retrieving the Quaffle as it rolled slowly across the room.

 

"Right," Ron said. 

 

The two men beat a hasty retreat to the door, and as it slammed behind them, they burst out laughing.

 

"I thought she was going to hex you into next week when you broke that vase," laughed Ron.  "Did you get the impression that our Hermione is a little tense today?"

 

"Well," said Harry, "your mum did warn us about it, didn't she?  I recall it had something to do with hormones."  They sat down on the steps, Harry still holding the Quaffle.

 

"Either that or it's because she's big as a house.  I mean, Merlin's beard! I didn't ever think it would be possible for her to get that big.  It's like she had an engorgement charm go very bad." Ron was smiling as he said this, but Harry could tell he was a little alarmed. 

 

"Yeah, I know," replied Harry.  "I think she's doubled in size during the past few weeks.  She's going to blow up like my Aunt Marge did that one time if she doesn't have the baby soon."

 

Ron laughed.  "Yeah, but she'd never float.  I swear she weighs almost as much as I do.  I tried to catch her when she tripped yesterday and almost buckled under her weight and fell flat on my arse."  He paused for a moment.  "So, Harry, were you able to talk her out of that crazy 'natural childbirth' idea?"

 

"No," Harry answered.  Smiling, he continued, "You'll love this… I bring up the subject and tell her that your mum thinks she might be overreacting by insisting on having the baby the Muggle way.  So she pulls out six rolls of parchment from her bag and tells me it's her research on the correlation between the use of magical delivery methods and the high incidence of Squib birth.  You know, she's really worried that the baby will be born a Squib, since her parents are Muggles and so is the Dashing Doctor Dan.  Anyway, Ron, we should have known that she'd have thoroughly researched it."

 

"Hermione could have a Squib? It didn't even occur to me to worry about that.  What does the research say?"

 

"Four times higher rate of Squib birth when using magical pain relief charms.  Goes up to six times higher if one of the parents is a Muggle." 

 

Ron let out a low whistle.  "Wow.  That seems really high.  I guess she has a point after all."  Then his face brightened.  "But I've been busy collecting ideas from people on how to cheer her up in the delivery room.  Got some great ones."

 

Harry looked at Ron uncomfortably.  "You didn't get these ideas from Fred and George, did you?"

 

"Er, well, a few of them.  But they're really funny.  Listen. All we have to do is…"

 

But whatever they had to do remained Ron's secret, because they both heard a slightly panicked voice call their names from somewhere inside the flat.  They found Hermione standing in the doorway to the bath looking decidedly peaky.

 

"Hermione, what's wrong?" asked Harry, who got to her first.

 

"I…I think it's time," she said nervously.  "I'm pretty sure this backache I've had all day was really early labor, but now I'm having proper contractions."  Immediately Harry rushed forward to hug her, while Hermione's eyes met Ron's over his shoulder.   Ron grinned at her, and she smiled back hesitantly.

 

"Right then," Ron said, pretending to be organized and business-like when, in reality, he was so anxious he thought he might lose his lunch.  "I'll just go get the List, shall I?"

 

The List, as it had affectionately come to be known, was Hermione's four-foot roll of parchment that had every bit of information they would need to make sure that her labor and delivery went off without a hitch.  It was the moral equivalent of her infamous end-of-year-exam revising schedules, complete with color-coding.  It was also the frequent topic of snarky comments by Ron and Harry, but as the moment of action was now upon them, both were silently grateful to have an instruction manual to follow.

 

When Ron returned with the List, Harry was still holding Hermione, whose eyes were closed.  Harry was whispering quietly into her ear, and she was nodding, every so often murmuring, "I know."  Ron had a brief moment of jealousy.  He rapidly shook off his feelings – Harry was so much better at this emotional stuff than he could ever hope to be.  Ron glanced briefly at the List, earnestly hoping Hermione had put Harry in charge of emotional support.  She had.

 

"Don't I get a turn?" Ron asked.  Harry and Hermione separated, smiling fondly at Ron.

 

"Of course." 

 

As Hermione put her arms around him, Ron handed Harry the List.  "Yours are green to match your eyes, love," he said to Harry, grinning. Then he pulled Hermione close and said, "This is going to be fun!"

 

Hermione snorted, looking up into his blue eyes.  "Fun?  I'm going to be trapped in a room with you two clowns for who knows how long while I expel another person out of my body through an opening which is much too small for him.  Please explain to me which part of this will be fun."

 

"That's easy: the part where you're locked up in a room with Harry and me.  The rest?  Well, maybe 'fun' isn't the right word."  Ron mentally kicked himself, and resolved not to use the word 'fun' in Hermione's presence at any time during the next twenty-four hours.  As he kissed her deeply, he felt her whole body tense in his arms.  "Was that…"

 

"Yes," gasped Hermione.  The contraction was over nearly as quickly as it had begun.  "I think I'm going to take a bath before we go."

 

"A bath?" Ron asked in a voice that cracked like a twelve-year-old's.  "Don't we have to go soon?"

 

"We'll have plenty of time.  Why don't you start gathering the things we'll need…they're on the List."

 

 

Harry had completed his list of "green" tasks, while Ron madly tore through the flat working on his "yellow" ones.  Hermione's things had been packed for weeks, and Harry had retrieved her case from her bedroom and set it next to the fireplace.  He was calmly writing a note for Hedwig to deliver to the Weasleys, who would, in turn, notify their respective employers and schools of their absences.

 

"How can I not have any clean Muggle clothes?" Ron ranted, as he passed by.  "You'd think we were going to be gone for a week with all this stuff she wants us to bring."

 

Harry chuckled.  "Maybe if you weren't such a lazy sod and did your own laundry every once in a while, it wouldn't be an issue."  He could hear Ron "hmph" from the bedroom.

 

Ron reentered the living room and collapsed into his favorite armchair.  "She'd bloody well better get a move on or it will be you and me doing the delivery," said Ron testily.

 

"She's got plenty of time," Harry said quietly.  "Don't worry so much.  You're making me nervous."

 

Ron merely glared at Harry.  Finally he said, "Since when did you become the authority on childbirth, Mr. I'm-Not-The-Father-Either?"

 

"Since I went with Hermione to all of her antenatal classes.  You could have gone too, you know, but you were too busy watching Quidditch matches."

 

"That was for work!" exclaimed Ron.  "How could I help it that I got assigned to monitor the Tuesday night matches?  At least I work for a living..."

 

"I'm in school!" interrupted Harry.  "And I work part time, too." Harry's breathing was becoming shallow and he was staring fiercely at Ron.

 

Ron chuckled maliciously.  "Harry, I don't think you're really taxing yourself by taking one class per term.  And signing autographs at celebrity events once a month isn't exactly the same as working full time for the Ministry."

 

Harry was livid.  Through clenched teeth he responded, "I've told you before.  I'm only taking one Auror class per term because that's all the Auror office will let me take until I'm cleared by my therapist."

 

Ron grinned.  He refrained from teasing Harry about becoming the nutter the Daily Prophet always accused him of being, and said instead, "At the rate you're going, Hermione's baby will be at Hogwarts before you finish Auror training.  What's the matter with you, anyway, that it's taking you so long in therapy?"

 

"I have anger issues."

 

"Well, I could have told you that, Harry," said Ron.  "I've been on the receiving end of your anger often enough.  Just deal with it and move on.  How hard can it be?"

 

"Ron?" Harry asked.  Bright green eyes locked on blue ones.  "Just sod off.  You don't know what the hell you're talking about and it's pissing me off."

 

Ron shot back, "Oh for Merlin's sake, Harry!  I do not want to be responsible for another year of your anger therapy."  He glanced up to see Hermione standing in the doorway, looking from Ron to Harry and back again.

 

Hermione said calmly, "I'm ready to go if you are.  What are you fighting about, anyway?"

 

"I don't know," said Ron and Harry in unison.  They looked at each other and laughed.  They both knew that it was the tension of the moment that was causing them to bicker like a married couple.

 

"All right then," continued Hermione.  "Have you got my suitcase?

 

"Yes."

 

"The List?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Did you find my case notes and birthing plan?  I left them in the kitchen, I think."

 

"Yes."

 

"The chocolate chip cookies from the freezer?"

 

"Yes," said Harry, rolling his eyes.

 

"We had chocolate chip cookies in the freezer?" Ron asked.

 

Hermione sighed.  "Yes.  I had to put them there after I baked them so you wouldn't find them.  Okay, as soon as I've finished my next contraction, we'll be off.  Ron, be a dear and grab my wand off the desk, would you?"

 

Ron turned his back, and he heard a thud as Hermione dropped onto the nearby couch.  He spun around to see her grimace in pain as the contraction worked its way through her midsection.  He glanced at Harry, who was also watching Hermione with horror.  Seeing her go through this pain was going to be a lot harder than they thought.

 

"Right, then," Ron said, handing Hermione the wand after the contraction had passed.  "I'll go first so that I can catch you on the other end.  Harry, you come last with the luggage."  Two heads nodded in agreement.  He skeptically surveyed the fireplace.  "Er, Hermione, are you sure you'll fit?"  Hermione's look shot daggers at Ron.  Sensing trouble, Ron quickly took a pinch of floo powder from the jar on the mantle and tossed it into the fire.  "The Grangers," he said once he had stepped in the flames.  The next second, Ron was gone.

 

Harry held the floo powder for Hermione as she took a pinch.  "I'll see you on the other end, love," he said, and he kissed her cheek.

 

"The Grangers," said Hermione, and she, too, disappeared. 

 

 

 

Hermione and Ron stood in the middle of the Granger's spotless living room waiting patiently for Harry to arrive.  Through Arthur Weasley's connections at the Ministry of Magic, they had arranged for the Granger's fireplace to join up to the floo network so that Hermione would not have to Apparate and risk splinching herself while she was in labor.  From there, they would drive the Grangers' car to the hospital.

 

"He's not coming," said Ron.

 

Hermione gaped at him incredulously.  "What do you mean 'he's not coming'?  Of course he's coming.  He was right behind me with the luggage."

 

Ron walked over to the hearth and cautiously poked his head inside.  "I know Harry, and I'm telling you, he hates to floo.  I'll bet you a galleon he doesn't come out of this fireplace."

 

"Harry might hate to floo, but he wouldn't just not show up."  She was looking a bit nervous, though.

 

They both turned towards a noise in the kitchen.  Seconds later, Harry walked through the door saying, "Quit talking about me like I'm not here." He set down their luggage, shrugged and said, "I Apparated."

 

"Ha!" gloated Ron.  "You owe me a galleon, Hermione."  Something about the way Hermione rolled her eyes told him that he was unlikely to collect the galleon anytime soon.

 

Harry and Ron milled about the living room while Hermione tried to ring her parents on the telephone.  After what seemed like an interminable wait, Hermione finally got through to their receptionist.  Harry could tell by the look on Hermione's face that she was disappointed about something the receptionist was telling her, and he thought she might cry when she hung up the phone.

 

"Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively.

 

"The NHS people showed up unexpectedly this morning asking for all kinds of records from their office," she said glumly.  "I really wanted my mum to be there with us. There's no way mum and dad can even come to the phone right now, let alone the hospital.  I suppose we should head to the hospital – Mum left her car.  They'll come along as soon as they can get away."  As if to add insult to injury, Hermione's statement was punctuated by a particularly strong contraction.

 

Ron came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders.  "It's okay," he said softly, "I'll drive us."

 

"You?" asked Harry.  "You don't know anything about driving and Muggle traffic laws."

 

"Neither do you!" Ron exclaimed huffily. 

 

"I lived as a Muggle for years.  And anyway, the last time I rode in a car that you were driving, we ended up dangling from a mad tree.  There's no way I'm going through that again – I'm driving."  Harry's face looked resolute on the issue.

 

"That wasn't my fault – we ran out of petrol.  Besides, I was only twelve.  Sheesh! Talk about holding a grudge."  Both Ron and Harry looked imploringly at Hermione.

 

Hermione studied each of them, glanced down at her protruding belly, and finally said,

"Okay, we'll get a cab...." She grinned.

 

"Hermione!" Ron and Harry said at the same time, with the same indignant tone.

 

"Well, all right then. Harry.  Sorry, Ron, but Harry has a point.  He's more familiar with the traffic laws, and we don't want to draw attention to ourselves since none of us has a license.  You can sit in the back seat with me."  She smiled at Ron sweetly, and suddenly, he didn't care that Hermione had chosen Harry to drive.

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

Harry reached the entrance to the hospital and heaved a sigh of relief, having traumatically navigated his way through the car park. Really, you could hardly see the dent in Mrs. Granger's car from here, Harry told himself as he looked back.  If he hadn't been so distracted by the exorbitant fee they charged for parking, he probably could have missed that post.  Now, since 'Reparo' hadn't worked, he was going to have to figure out how to ask Hermione about a spell to fix it without alerting her to what he'd done. Well, plenty of time for that.  When at last he found Hermione and Ron, they were already in the process of admitting Hermione to the maternity ward.  Harry kissed Hermione on the cheek and took hold of her hand.  Ron was clutching her other hand.  This seemed to confuse the nurse, because she stopped what she was doing and looked at each of them in turn.

 

"Now, which one of you is the father?" she asked cautiously.

 

"Me," replied Ron and Harry in unison.  The question had caught them off guard and they both answered without thinking.  Then, knowing how stupid they must have sounded, they glanced sideways at each other over the top of Hermione's head and once again answered at the same time, "Him."  Ron started to laugh, but cut it off when Hermione pulled an "I'm-gonna-kill-you" face. 

 

They live to torment me, thought Hermione.  "Actually," whispered Hermione, "I'm not exactly sure, and I didn't want the real father to miss out on the experience if I guessed wrong."

 

The nurse's eyes opened very wide.  "Oh… Are you interested in having a paternity test, then?"

 

"No."  Sensing the nurse believed them to be odd enough to appear on the Jerry Springer Show, Hermione continued, "See how different they look? I think it will be pretty obvious once the baby is born, don't you?"

 

The nurse eyed Ron and then Harry.  Apparently satisfied that they would, indeed, be able to determine the child's paternity without a test, she continued reading through Hermione’s case notes. 

 

Hermione's contractions were becoming more frequent and, judging from the grimace on her face, more painful.  At last she was ushered into an examination room to determine how far her labor had progressed.  Harry and Ron waited outside.  As soon as Hermione was out of earshot, Harry started in on Ron.

 

"You might have told me you were going to say you were the father," snapped Harry, angrily.  "That nurse thinks Hermione's some kind of a tart now."

 

Ron frowned.  "Who cares what that old bat thinks?  I was going to say the father was the Delightfully Debonair Doctor Dan, but I was afraid Hermione would chuck us out."

 

"You mean the Dishy, Delectable Doctor Dan…" chimed in Harry.

 

"Deliciously Dreamy and Definitely Dense…"

 

"Dreadfully Dull and Disarmingly Dodgy…"

 

"Discombobulated Deluded Dimwit..."

 

"Deeply Depraved..."

 

Ron interrupted, "No, you can't use 'Depraved' because that's what Hermione calls us."

 

"Oh yeah," said Harry.  "How about Deeply Disgusting Dotard..."

 

"Despicable Demented Deviant…"

 

"Detestable Daft Dickhead…"

 

"Disturbed Deciduous Dumbarse…"

 

"Deciduous?  Where the hell did you come up with 'deciduous'?" laughed Harry.

 

"I ran out of clever 'D' words – it was all I could think of."  Ron grinned at Harry and reached over for his hand.  He knew that Harry had to be feeling something similar to what he felt: anxious, terrified and exhilarated all at the same time. 

 

"Ron, in a few hours, we're going to be dads.  Are you as nervous as I am?"  Ron could see the worry lines on Harry's face.  He couldn't have Harry getting too serious on him now, or he'd crack too before they even got to the delivery room.

 

Ron kissed his forehead and gazed into his pools of emerald green.  "Do you mean to tell me that the same bloke who defeated the most evil wizard the world has ever known is afraid of a little tiny baby? Harry, what could you possibly worry about – that he might pee on you?"

 

Harry laughed.  "No, but admit it.  It's so much responsibility – you know – to raise another person."

 

"Nothing like, for example, the responsibility of having to defeat Voldemort or die trying.  Come on, Harry.  After all you've been through, raising a baby should be a walk in the park!"

 

Harry replied, "That's just it, Ron.  It should be easy, but I've never had a proper family.  How am I supposed to know what's normal?"

 

"I grew up in a proper family, but you can't really call them normal, now, can you?  My dad collects plugs, for Merlin's sake."  Ron kissed Harry again.  "Anyway, Dad told me that all you really have to do to be a good parent is to love the kid and put his needs first."

 

The door to the examination room opened and Hermione emerged, looking flushed and a bit uncomfortable.  "I'm coming along fairly rapidly, so they want to put me on a monitor for a while.  We need to go to a delivery room," said Hermione.  She took a few more steps and winced as another contraction started; Ron and Harry each grabbed an arm to keep her upright until it passed.

 

They settled into a Labor and Delivery room a short while later, and a friendly nurse named Kate attached a tremendous number of electrodes with wire leads to Hermione's belly.  Ron was fascinated by this Muggle technology, and kept asking questions about the various bioelectrical signals that were being recorded.

 

"You're saying that when she has a contraction, that thing on her stomach can tell and it records the impulse on this parchment?" asked Ron, enthusiastically.

 

"Parchment?  Er, yes, it will make this needle here move," Kate said pointing at the stylus, "and it will look like a wave.  The stronger the contraction is, the higher the wave will go." 

 

"Hermione, wouldn't my dad be impressed?  I'm half-tempted to bring him here so he can see how this works," Ron said.

 

Hermione looked aghast.  "Ronald Bilius Weasley, you'll do no such thing!  However much I adore your father, he's not setting one foot in this room until after the baby is born.  Am I clear?"

 

Ron cowered apologetically.  "Of course, love.  Whatever makes you happy." Crap, she was sounding like his mother now.  If this personality change happens each time you have a baby, no wonder his mum thundered – she had seven!  Ron made a mental note to avoid mentioning his dad until the baby was born.

 

Kate flitted in and out of the room and, after about twenty minutes, she reviewed the printout from the monitor.  "These are coming closer together now.  I think we should examine you to measure your progress."  She left the room and soon reappeared with Hermione's midwife, who was introduced to Harry and Ron as Madeleine.

 

"How's our mother-to-be getting on?" asked Madeleine.  "Are you in much pain, dear?"

 

Hermione nodded, which only proved to Harry and Ron that she was in a good deal of pain if she was rendered speechless.

 

Madeleine examined the printouts and measured Hermione's vital signs.  As she worked, she kept up a constant prattle about this and that, no doubt intended to take their minds off Hermione's pain.  While reading Hermione's blood pressure, she said, "Kate tells me there's a bet going at the nurses station over whether this baby is going to be born with red hair or black.  I told her not to put too much stock in hair color, since it changes over time.  Who knows – he might be a blond!"  She winked at Hermione, who had obviously confided her story at one of her check-ups.

 

She turned to Ron and Harry.  "Now, I'm going to have to do a little exam.  This might be an excellent time for the two of you to walk around and familiarize yourself with the ward.  I won't need more than five minutes."

 

They left the room quickly, not wanting to be witnesses to any procedure that was going to cause Hermione more pain.  Harry was thirsty, so they went searching for a vending machine.  Harry spotted one and reached into his pocket for change.  Fortunately, Hermione had remembered to put 'Muggle coins for vending machines' on the List.  He fed 70 pence into the machine and pressed the button marked "COKE." The can dropped through the chute and Harry pulled it out.

 

Ron's eyes sparkled with amazement.  "Wicked!  I guess I'll have something too.  I don't suppose they have butterbeer..."

 

"Er...no," answered Harry.  He handed Ron some coins.  "You'd probably like a Coke, though.  Do you want to try mine to see what it tastes like?"

 

"Absolutely not.  It's got your spit all over it, Harry."

 

"Like you've never tasted my spit before?" said Harry a little too loudly, so that they attracted the attention of one of the nurses.  Harry lowered his voice.  "Fine.  Get whatever you want."

 

Ron dropped the coins in the slot as Harry had done and he pushed the "COKE" button.  Nothing happened.  He pushed the button again.  Still no can dropped.  He pushed buttons a random, thinking that perhaps the machine was out of Coke, but none of them worked.  "What the hell did you do to this machine?" snapped Ron.

 

"I didn't do anything to it.  It worked fine for me."  Harry examined the digital display to see if the problem was obvious.  It wasn't.  Harry didn't have any experience with vending machines either, since he'd never been allowed any money for snacks while living with the Dursleys.

 

Ron started pushing the "COKE" button over and over, and finally hit the side of the machine in frustration.  This served only to cause his hand to throb and some choice words to escape from his mouth.

 

"Is there a problem here?" asked the nurse who had been watching them.  She looked at the machine, reached down to the coin return and pulled out a 20 pence coin.  "It must have dropped all the way through – try it again."

 

Ron took the coin from her and dropped it into the slot.  Ron pushed the "COKE" button one more time and the can tumbled down the chute.  Ron pulled it out and muttered, "Thanks," to the smirking nurse.

 

They returned to the delivery room to find Hermione alone and staring out the window.  She turned when she heard them. Ron and Harry moved to the side of her bed so that they could watch the monitor.

 

"Where have you been?  I was getting worried you'd gotten lost."

 

Ron held up his Coke.  "We were thirsty and thought we'd get drinks out of the vending machine."

 

"Oh, Ron, you shouldn't drink that stuff," said Hermione.  "It's nothing but sugar.  It will rot your teeth.  Mum and Dad say fizzy drinks are major contributors to poor dental health."

 

"I have to drink it now, though.  You don't know what I had to go through to get it," Ron said, while Harry sniggered.  

 

Hermione would have continued to make her feelings on the subject known, except that another contraction rendered her unable to speak.  When it passed she panted, "That must have been a really strong one, right?"

 

Harry and Ron turned to the monitor and saw that the wave was, in fact, smaller than the previous three.  "Yes, Hermione," said Harry.  "That one was really strong.  You're being so brave about this."

 

Ron's confusion was obvious.  "You must have looked at the wrong one, Harry, because...ouch!"  Harry had stomped hard on Ron's foot to shut him up.

 

"Oops, sorry Ron."  Harry tried to glance meaningfully at Ron, who still didn't understand.  He turned his back to Hermione and pulled Ron close on the pretext of showing him the printout and whispered, "Lie to her."  Ron wondered if this was one of the things that Harry had learned at antenatal classes while Ron was off at Tuesday night Quidditch matches, so he played along.

 

Hermione was experiencing back pain, so Harry applied pressure to her back just as he'd learned in their classes.  It really only helped when he was pushing hard, and after a while, he showed Ron what to do so he could have a break.  Kate the nurse came in shortly to free Hermione from the monitors so that she could walk around. 

 

They tried to take a walk down the hall, but they didn't get very far.  Now that she was standing up, Hermione had to go to the loo every five minutes or so because the baby was pushing on her bladder.  On the way back to their room, they passed by a room where some woman was obviously in hard labor.  They laughed when they heard her shout through the closed door, "Martin, you son of a bitch!  You're never going to lay a hand on me again!"

 

Hermione's contractions seemed to be coming more frequently and lasting longer.  She was too uncomfortable to walk any longer, so she lay on the bed, stoically enduring each contraction.  Harry noticed silent tears escaping from the corner of her eyes a few times, and he tenderly wiped them away with his thumb.

 

"Do you suppose that other woman has given birth yet?" Hermione asked after a while.

 

"I hope so," chuckled Harry.  "I'll bet Martin has castration in his future, though."  They all laughed.

 

Hermione moaned, "Please, Harry, don't make me laugh.  It makes me have to pee."  Ron made another mental note to refrain from all jokes until the baby was born. 

 

Harry began to apply counter-pressure to her back again, but this time she screamed out in pain.

 

"What the hell are you trying to do to me?" she wailed.  "Just don't touch me anymore, okay?"

 

"Sorry," Harry replied quickly.  "You liked it before, so I thought I'd just... Well, I won't do it anymore."  Ron quickly made another mental not to touch Hermione without permission until the baby was born.

 

The pain seemed to get worse, and Ron couldn't take watching anymore, so he left to find Madeleine.  Hermione had to be close to delivering if she was in this much pain. Besides, maybe the midwife would talk her into taking a Muggle potion, if they had such a thing.

 

When Ron came back into the room, Harry was trying to guide Hermione through some breathing exercises they had learned in their classes.  "Focus, Hermione.  Focus on my glasses.  Now breathe – short, short, long.  Again.  Short, short, long."  They breathed together following Harry's pattern for a little while.

 

Hermione cried out, "It still hurts so much!"

 

"Let's try the hypnosis exercise then.  Find your Happy Place, Hermione.  Come on, go there.  Take Ron and me with you. We're all together and we're happy.  Keep breathing now."  Hermione was still moaning, but she seemed less tense.  Ron would have laughed at the absurdity of Harry's words, but he was too intrigued by the calming effect Harry's voice was having on Hermione.  He was really quite good at this.

 

When the midwife returned, Ron and Harry didn't have to leave the room during the examination this time.  All dignity having been lost by now, it seemed Hermione was opening her legs to anyone who passed by.  "Ah," said Madeleine excitedly, "it won't be long now.  You're dilated to nine and are fully effaced.  The baby's head should be cresting very soon.  Now remember, even if your body has the urge to push, don't start pushing until I tell you to.  Otherwise it will just take longer."

 

Hermione, though, was barely coherent.  Tears were rolling down her face as frequently as her contractions came.  Ron gently wiped the sweat from her brow with a cloth, being careful to keep it out of her eyes.  "You're doing great, Hermione," he said.  "Did you hear her say that it's close to the end now?"

 

"Yeah, but it hurts like a son-of-a-bitch," she whimpered, panting.  "I'm never doing this again, do you hear?  One is my...ugh...limit.  I hope he's happy as an only child.  Ugh."

 

Harry appeared on Hermione's other side.  "Should we try the hypnosis again, Hermione?  Can you go back to your Happy Place?"

 

"Harry," she moaned, thrashing her head back and forth, "take your goddam Happy Place and shove it up your...aargh!"  Ron and Harry glanced at each other as they both fought to hold in their laughter.  They couldn't contain it, though, and they completely lost their composure.  Even Kate was chuckling.

 

"So glad I can entertain you," spat Hermione sarcastically. Ron's mental notepad was getting quite full at this point; nevertheless, he resolved to avoid eye contact with Harry if anything humorous happened.

 

There was a flurry of activity in the room as preparations were made to transition from labor to delivery.  The bed on which Hermione was resting cleverly converted to a delivery table that could be maneuvered to the proper position to assist the birth.  People were coming and going and Ron was very much in the way.  He had moved to the corner to make some room for Madeleine when he spied the cookies.  Might as well have a few of these before all the action begins, he thought. 

 

He crammed a cookie into his mouth and had picked up another when heard Hermione call out, "Where's Ron?  I need him to be here!"

 

"M ri' huw," Ron answered, his mouth still full of cookie.  He dropped the one he was holding and wiped his hands on his jeans.  He chewed furiously as he raced to her bedside.

 

"Goddammit, Ron, what do you think this is – lunchtime?" huffed Hermione. 

 

Ron suspected he should not answer this question, and merely said in a gentle voice, "Sorry.  I'm here now.  What do you need, Hermione?"

 

"I need to push!  Where is she?  Tell her I need to push NOW!"  Ron looked at Madeleine questioningly, but she shook her head, indicating that the baby wasn't yet in the right position for her to begin pushing. Hermione looked as if she was in another dimension.  She kept fading in and out of consciousness, babbling incoherently.  Ron glanced over at the Quick Quotes Quill, which was hidden in the corner, and hoped it was getting everything down.

 

Harry snuck away from the bed for a cookie during one of Hermione's less lucid moments.  He made eye contact with Ron, looking as if he felt fortunate at having gotten away with such a bold move.  To be honest, they were afraid to speak, lest it be the wrong thing to say to Hermione who was now in an altered state.

 

Finally Hermione got her wish and was allowed to push the baby out with all her might.  With Ron and Harry on either side of her, helping to steady her legs, they were much too involved in the delivery process to be nervous.  Before they knew it, the baby's head was emerging.  Soon after that, with a monumental effort on Hermione's part, her baby boy was born.  

 

"Matthew Daniel Granger," Hermione said weakly as Ron placed him into her arms.  "Welcome to the world."

 

"Blond," said Kate.  "Who would have guessed?"

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

Harry was seated in an armchair in the corner of the hospital room, completely oblivious to the others as he held the tiny baby in his arms.  He'd never seen anything as miraculous as this small child, and somehow he knew that he and the boy would be bonded forever.   Hermione smiled as she watched them, and motioned to Ron to have a look.

 

Ron chuckled as he sat beside Hermione on the hospital bed.  He was clutching a lengthy roll of parchment.  "So, do you want to know what you said while you were in labor?"

 

Hermione was stunned.  "You mean you recorded the whole thing?"

 

"Yeah," said Ron gleefully.  "Got the idea from Fred.  He even leant me his Quick Quotes Quill to do it."  Ron scanned the parchment.  "Oh, this is a good one.  'I hope he's happy as an only child.'"

 

"I still stand by that," Hermione said.

 

Ron read some more.  "Let's see…'It hurts so much.  Please let me die!  Goddammit, Ron, quit eating biscuits and help me out here!'  Language, Ms. Granger."

 

Hermione glanced at him sheepishly.  "Well, it hurt!  Oh my, look here. Wait a minute, I did not say that."

 

Ron said, "Oh yes you did.  I didn't even know you knew those words, Hermione.  I must be a bad influence."

 

"What's this one?  Why did Harry ask me about a charm to smooth metal?  I don't remember that," mused Hermione.

 

She turned to ask Harry to explain, and saw him speaking softly in a sort of baby talk to Matthew.  She nudged Ron with her elbow and pointed to Harry.

 

"Now Matthew," Harry was saying, "as soon as you can walk properly, I'll get you one of those toy broomsticks and we can start with the flying lessons.  Once you've got the basics down, we can work on Quidditch strategy, but we'll have to sneak off somewhere so your mum doesn't find out…"

 

Grinning, Ron stole over to the table and set up the Quick Quotes Quill on another roll of parchment, hiding it behind Hermione's bag so that Harry wouldn't be able to see it.  He caught Hermione's eye, and she started giggling.

 

"…and I just know that you're going to be the smartest boy in your class because your mum will be starting you with lessons next week.  Who's our sweetest boy?  It's ickle baby Mattikins, of course.  Everybody loves sweet ickle Matthew!"

 

Ron was nearly busting a gut trying to restrain his laughter, making Harry glance over at him.  "What are you laughing at?" asked Harry. 

 

"You," laughed Ron.  "This baby has turned you into a blithering idiot!  You're worse than a girl!"  Instead of being embarrassed, though, Harry beamed.

 

The door to the room opened and a burly young orderly entered.  He said, "Sorry, I just need to move this equipment to another room."  Harry looked up with a start and recognized the man immediately.

 

"Well, well, well…Piers Polkiss.  I never thought I'd see you again," Harry snarled.

 

Piers surveyed Harry's face and appraised the scar.  There was no doubt in his mind that this was Harry Potter.  He cast his eyes to the ground and an awkward silence filled the room.

 

"How ironic," continued Harry, "that you'd be working in a hospital when you spent so much time sending people there.  Of course, you've given them a lot of business, haven't you, so the least they can do is give you a job."

 

Although it had been at least five years since Harry had seen Piers at the Dursleys, he hadn't changed much physically.  What was different, Harry thought, was his attitude.  He seemed almost…contrite.

 

"Look, Harry, I owe you an apology…"

 

Harry was appalled.  "An apology?  You've got to be kidding."

 

Piers looked uncomfortable.  "I fell in with the wrong people…"

 

"Dudley, you mean."

 

"Yes, well, he wasn't very nice, was he?" muttered Piers.

 

Harry asked accusatorily, "Are you saying he's changed?"

 

"No!" Piers answered quickly.  "I don't think so, but I haven't seen him in a few years.  I've changed, though.  I've accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, and I'm trying to atone for my past sins."

 

"Oh," Harry said, trying to choke back a laugh.  Who would have ever thought that Piers Polkiss – one of the nastiest bullies Little Whinging had ever produced – would have suddenly become a Bible Basher?  He glanced at Ron, who was also trying hard not to laugh, and then at Hermione, who seemed intrigued.

 

Piers seemed to have summoned his courage, because he went on.  "Like St. Paul, I was a terrible person before my conversion and I did terrible things to people.  But now that I have Jesus in my life, I know He has forgiven my sins and will show me the way to everlasting life.  Harry, I know I have a lot to ask your forgiveness for.  But maybe, someday, you could see it in your heart to forgive me."

 

Not bloody likely, thought Harry.  "Yeah, well, I'll mention it to my therapist and get back to you."  Ron snorted.  Hermione prodded him in the ribs.

 

Another awkward moment passed between them.  Finally, Piers broke the silence.  "So then, is this your son?"

 

"I'm not sure.  Could be mine…or his," Harry said, grinning and pointing to Ron.  "Or he could be some other man's baby entirely.  It's hard to say.  You see, the three of us like to have wild, orgiastic sex as often as possible."  Ron nodded in agreement.

 

Piers surveyed Hermione and it was impossible for him to hide his judgmental, self-righteous opinion of her character.  He peered again at little Matthew, as if trying to determine which of them he most resembled.  "He's cute," Piers said, this time not seeming the least bit sincere.

 

Just as Harry was about to move to throw him out of the room, Piers blurted out, "Um, Harry, can I ask you about something that's been bothering me for ages?"

 

"Yeah, okay."

 

"Do you remember that time you and I and Dudley went to the zoo? It was for his birthday, if I recall correctly.  That python escaped from the reptile house, and I had seen you talking to it.  You…er…you know how that happened, don't you?"

 

"Of course I do, Piers.  I made that glass disappear so the python could escape."  Harry was immensely gratified to see the look of shock on Piers' face, and he stared straight into Piers' eyes.  "Because you see, Piers, I'm really Satan."  And with that, Harry conjured an image of the python in his mind and started speaking to him in Parseltongue. 

 

Piers became flustered and backed away from Harry as quickly as he could.  "I'll be getting back to work now," he said, his voice elevated in panic.

 

Before he could turn away, Harry drew his wand and said, "Accio cookie."  A chocolate chip cookie flew through the air and Harry caught it with his free hand, while clutching the baby tightly in the other.  "Are you sure you won't stay and have a biscuit?" said Harry, laughing.

 

Piers couldn't escape the room quickly enough.  The equipment he'd come to retrieve became caught up on the hospital bed, and he was so shaken that he had trouble removing it.  Piers was just reaching the door when Harry heard Hermione's voice call, "Obliviate."

 

Piers turned around quickly and said, "Sorry – did you say something?"

 

Hermione answered, "Have a nice day."

 

"Peace be with you.  Long live the Queen," replied a dazed Piers, and he exited the room, apparently in a fog.  Ron and Harry burst into hysterical laughter, and Hermione smiled.

 

"Hermione," complained Harry, "why did you have to ruin it by modifying his memory?"

 

Hermione placed her wand back on the bedside table.  "Harry, you know we're not supposed to do magic in front of Muggles.  Besides, he did apologize for being mean to you."

 

"That bastard used to hold me down while Dudley beat me to a pulp on a regular basis.  You can't actually feel sorry for him."

 

Ron said, "He did get one thing right, though.  The baby is cute."  Ron got up and stood next to Harry's chair for a moment, admiring Matthew's tiny features and caressing the baby's cheek with his finger.  Then he moved over to where the Quick Quotes Quill had been recording Harry's exchange with Piers.  He put away the quill and perused the end of the parchment.

 

"Wow!" Ron exclaimed. "This is wicked!  I didn't know these quills could translate too."

 

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

 

"It translated Harry's Parseltongue into English." Ron cleared his throat.  "'Piers, you effing bastard, it will be a cold day in hell before I forgive you.  I hope you die a slow, painful death.'  Is that what you said, Harry?"

 

"More or less," replied Harry.

 

"My friend, you have serious anger management issues.  I think young Matthew here is going to finish Auror school before you do," said Ron, smiling.

 

Harry chucked the cookie he was holding at Ron and it hit him on the nose.  Ron yelped in pain, which caused the baby to start crying.

 

"See what you've done?" stormed Hermione.  "Give him to me, Harry.  Honestly, Matthew is going to grow up thinking that kind of behavior is acceptable, and I won't stand for it."

 

Ron rolled his eyes and Harry thought he muttered, "Spoken by someone who never had brothers – boys never grow up," under his breath. 

 

Harry handed the baby to Hermione and slumped back into his chair.  It had been an exhausting and exhilarating day, and he wouldn't have missed it for the world.  Their trio had become a quad, and there was plenty of love to be spared for their new addition.

 

Ron and Harry left Hermione and Matthew asleep in their room while they went in search of some dinner.  Ron said, "Wow, that was really cool.  I never knew having a baby was that much work, though.  I'm beat."

 

Harry gaped at Ron.  "What are you on about?" he asked.  "It's not like you did any of the work.  You spent half your time sitting around eating cookies!"

 

"Well, it was very hard to remember all the things I couldn't say without getting my head bitten off.  I mean really...I haven't encountered anyone quite so touchy since you showed up at Sirius’s house that summer before fifth year," said Ron, with utmost sincerity.

 

Harry was speechless, and merely shook his head.

 

"Hey, Harry, did they bring up how soon Hermione can have sex in any of those classes you went to?" asked Ron.

 

"If they did, I didn't hear it.  This guy in class kept giving me a bad time about not being married to Hermione, and it was making me mad so I had to leave every so often before I decked him."

 

Ron smiled and diplomatically kept his snide comments to himself.  "I guess I'll have to ask her then."

 

Harry panicked.  "Ron, will you warn me before you do that?  'Cause I want to be ready to Disapparate as soon as those words come out of your mouth."

 

Ron was going to ask why, but then realized that if Harry Potter, arguably the bravest wizard of the age, was worried about the wrath that question might evoke, than it might be better left unasked for now.  Ron made a mental note to have a discreet word with Madeleine the midwife on the subject.

 

 

finis