Chapter Text
Referrals were common in their line of work. Word of mouth went far, and people were very particular. After all, as Healer Hebditch always said, ‘if there was a spell that could do it for us, people would still want a friendly midwitch to cast it for them and be there while it worked.’
‘Friends recommended you to us,’ said Mrs Granger-Weasley. ‘The Potters.’
Ada smiled and nodded. ‘And how is little James? I loved the photo they released for his birthday.’
‘He’s a little terror,’ said Mr Weasley fondly. ‘Can we order one that’s a bit calmer? Bit less… climbing on everything in sight and running away with wands?’
Ada laughed. ‘I’ll do what I can, but I’m afraid it might be out of my hands. Now,’ she said briskly, looking back at Mrs Granger-Weasley. ‘When was the end of your last cycle?’
Most witches didn’t have a clue, or could only vaguely say ‘ooh, about…’, but Hermione Granger Weasley pulled out a diary at once. ‘I’ve already calculated all that,’ she said, flicking through the pages. ‘Here, this is when I started my last period and this is when it finished - I noted down the symptoms - and this week is when I believe I was ovulating; I’ve been taking my temperature every day. These marks show when we had intercourse-’
‘My wife has this all planned out,’ said Mr Weasley, rather amused warning in his voice.
Indeed she did; they were one of Ada’s easiest couples she could remember. Every time she saw them, Mrs Granger-Weasley had read several more books on the matter and knew exactly what to expect at each appointment and which questions to ask. Mr Weasley was relaxed; confident without arrogance or dismissiveness. Ada could tell he was very much enjoying the whole experience, giving his wife the control she needed and sitting back to listen happily.
She worried, after a few appointments, that he was too quiet. ‘Do you have any questions, Mr Weasley?’ she asked him.
‘As long as it comes out healthy, I’m fine,’ he said cheerfully. ‘It’s the stuff after I’ve been worrying about - Harry gave me a load of books on child development and when to introduce certain foods and how to deal with accidental magic and how to spot the early signs of dragon pox and all of that.’
The only time they seemed to disagree was as the big day approached, and they discussed pain relief in labour.
‘Breathing and massage is not going to make it less bloody painful, Ron,’ she snapped irritably. ‘I want all the potions available,’ she told Ada firmly. ‘I made a list, here-’
‘Ginny said she had a really amazing experience-’
‘Good for bloody Ginny!’
‘We could use certain breathing exercises and massage techniques on top of pain control,’ said Ada soothingly. ‘It doesn’t have to be one or the other.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Hermione impatiently, ‘but one of the books I read told me to imagine my vagina opening like a flower - it’s not funny, Ron!’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘I think you’re referring to A Wise Wytch’s Guide to Magical Beginnings,’ said Ada.
‘Yes - that book! What a load of woolly rubbish! No offence,’ she added quickly, though it did not seem to stop her tearing it down at full speed, ‘but I really think the priorities are all wrong, I don’t think I need to suffer more than necessary for it to be a meaningful experience - and, really, the priority should be the safety of mother and baby, not the beauty of an ancient ritual between woman and child or whatever it was blathering on about.’
‘But aren’t you worried you’ll miss your vagina being all flowery, Hermione?’ asked Mr Weasley, with a hand gesture that caused Ada to struggle not to giggle at.
‘No, I’m not,’ she said coldly. ‘I’d rather not convince myself it can all be thought away, I just want it over with.’
She was nervous, Ada realised, about the pain, and yet so was Mr Weasley. This was unusual; he had been more than happy to sit back until now, let her make the decisions, and yet suddenly now he seemed invested in her birth plan.
‘I’m not saying don’t take all that, but you might as well try some of the hippy stuff with me - it’ll be a laugh. Like the old days in divination, eh? You found that painful, but you got through it - childbirth will be the same, except this time you’ll be high as a kite while you huff and puff.’
‘Personally, I don’t follow the instructions in the Wise Wytch book,’ said Ada, as Hermione glared furiously at her husband. ‘There’s a broad spectrum, and that book is at one end - there are more solid approaches to breathing and pressure points we could try, in combination with magical pain relief.’
‘There you go,’ said Mr Weasley grandly, patting his wife on the back. ‘If we replace the hippy words with logical words, will that make you consider giving it a go?’
‘It just feels like a waste of time,’ she muttered. ‘When I know I’m having the potions and charms anyway - there’s not going to be much pain, so why bother-’
‘I think it’s important to always expect the unexpected,’ said Ada cautiously. ‘There’s no harm in being prepared for every eventuality - labour rarely goes according to plan.’
‘I’m very prepared,’ she said tensely. ‘I have a birth plan, with two back up plans as well, I understand that it probably won’t go perfectly, but I’m aware of all the things that could happen, I’ve read all about it - I really don’t think learning to breathe will make that any better. I already know how to breathe.’
‘Not sure about that,’ said Mr Weasley. ‘Sometimes you talk so fast I’m pretty sure you’ve forgotten. Like just now.’
‘Oh, shut up, Ron.’
‘Look - I’m just saying, listen to Ada, it can’t hurt to learn - I mean, what if the potions don’t take? That can happen, for some people, can’t it?’
‘It’s very unusual, Mr Weasley,’ said Ada sympathetically, ‘and there is the charm-’
‘Then I’ll just deal with it, Ron - I mean, your mother did it seven times, so it can’t be that catastrophic-
‘Yeah, and she also learned all this breathing and stuff you think is nonsense!’ he argued. ‘It’s got some worth, Hermione, you might as well give it a go! Come on - just as a backup, at least?’
‘Hermione,’ said Ada, doing her best to mimic Healer Hebditch’s most reassuring voice, ‘I promise you, all the potions and charms I can offer will still be there. Think of this as the cherry on the cake.’
‘Fine,’ muttered Mrs Granger-Weasley. ‘But I don’t want that book involved at all - it also described my vagina as a cave to explore.’
‘That’s how we got pregnant, wasn’t it?’ said Mr Weasley, with a wink to his wife. She pursed her lips, her arms tightly folded.
Even so, she reluctantly agreed, sitting grumpily between her husband’s legs as Ada taught him where to massage and all the breathing techniques and how to think of the contractions as a pressure rather than a pain. Hermione snorted at this, but Ron said, ‘ssh! Won’t matter to you, anyway, you’ll be doolally on potions. I want to learn this to deal with the pressure in my balls next time one of the kids runs at me head first.’
‘It’s not equivalent!’ Hermione snapped. ‘Stop making out that it’s the same, you drive me up the wall, it’s not the same!’
‘Well no one ever offers me a numbing charm, do they, Harry just laughs at me-’
‘And as the contraction starts to peak,’ said Ada loudly over their squabbling, ‘we will take nice light breaths through the mouth…’
When the big day finally arrived, it did so extremely slowly. Ada had been there for several hours already, and was fairly sure she would be there for several more.
‘I thought these potions and spells and things were supposed to stop all the pain?’ Ron said, his arms around his wife, who was groaning, low and deep, through another contraction.
‘They minimise it, as best we can manage,’ said Ada distractedly. She looked up from between Mrs Granger-Weasley’s legs. ‘Slow moving, I’m afraid, Hermione.’
‘What?’ she gasped, her face creasing in disappointment. ‘I’m not close yet?’
‘We’ll be here a little while longer, I think. It’s all right, I’m not going anywhere.’
‘When can you put the charm on me?’
‘She’s in pain - can’t you do it now?’ Mr Weasley demanded.
‘A little while longer - let’s get up, try and move around, see if that hurries things along…’
So, they paced the room, sat her on an exercise ball, let her moan and grimace and knock back more pain relief potion as more contractions came, ever so slowly.
‘OK, back to the bed - however you feel comfortable, Hermione.’
‘I don’t feel bloody comfortable at all,’ she snapped, and Ada smiled and shook her head at Mr Weasley’s apologetic grimace.
Hermione groaned again, almost at a sob, slumping into her husband’s arms. ‘Would you like more potion?’ Ada asked.
‘Please,’ she said. Her eyes were drooping, her head was lolling slightly as Mr Weasley supported her. She groaned again, but then her voice was floaty and dreamy. ‘It hurts a lot.’
‘It’s all right,’ Mr Weasley said to her hoarsely, rubbing her back as Ada had shown him a few weeks prior.
‘Are you all right, Mr Weasley?’ Ada asked sharply, for he was looking rather pale beneath his freckles, and holding her tightly.
‘Yes,’ he said gruffly. ‘Course.’ He took a shuddering breath, and continued to rub Hermione’s back. ‘You’re doing well,’ he said. ‘Breathe through it.’
She groaned, long and low and loud, her chin tucked to her chest. Her hair fell in front of her red face, and Ron pulled it back, smoothing it down with trembling hands.
‘Can’t you give her anything else for the pain?’ he blurted out suddenly.
Ada looked at him carefully. ‘We’re not ready for the final spell yet, but after that, all will be fine, Mr Weasley.’
‘Right, but this - this doesn’t feel normal, I mean she’s in a lot of pain and she’s already-’
‘I’m fine, Ron,’ Hermione weakly.
‘It’ll be over soon,’ he told her fiercely. ‘You’re doing so well.’
Yet more time passed, Mrs Granger-Weasley now so spacey that Ada no longer felt comfortable giving her further potions. She was looking blearily up at her husband. ‘You did this to me,’ she slurred.
‘I think we did it together, love,’ he replied.
‘Yes… but… you…. with your face… ‘n your freckles.’ She groaned again, but then burst into giggles.
Usually, this kind of dreamy silliness was regarded as good fun. Husbands and boyfriends often grinned over their partners at Ada and said something like, ‘can you leave some of that potion here?’ or, ‘can I have a go after her?’
But Mr Weasley looked unsettled, even a little afraid. ‘Is her brain addled?’ he asked.
‘Of course not, Mr Weasley,’ said Ada. ‘This is a side effect of the potion, we discussed it, remember? Everything’s fine.’
He nodded solemnly, still rubbing his wife’s back as he frowned down at her in utter concern.
‘Mr Weasley,’ Ada prompted gently. He looked up at her, and she tried not to show the shock on her face as she saw his blue eyes shining. ‘This is very normal,’ she said quietly, as Hermione groaned between them.
He nodded rapidly, she could see him gulping. ‘Yeah, yeah I know - it’s just-’
‘It can be hard to see our loved ones in pain,’ she said soothingly. ‘But I promise you the potions are doing their job, and she’ll have the charm for the worst of it.’
‘Yeah, but how much longer?’ he asked. ‘How much longer does she have to go through this?’
Ada checked Mrs Granger-Weasley again, frowning slightly. ‘A while longer, I’m afraid. Baby’s taking their time.’
‘Lazy baby,’ said Mrs Granger-Weasley, giggling up at Ron. ‘Takes after you.’
Mr Weasley’s mouth twitched, almost into a smile, but he kissed her forehead, and closed his eyes as he did so.
‘Does it usually take this long?’ he asked. ‘In one of the books I read, it said labour usually lasts about eight hours, but it’s been twelve and-’
‘Mr Weasley, I’m not at all concerned. Why don’t you go and make yourself a cup of tea?’
‘No - no, I’m not leaving her, not while she’s in pain,’ he muttered; he looked quite frantic. He looked down at her, grasping her hand. ‘You hear? I’m not going anywhere.’
‘I know you’re not,’ said Mrs Granger-Weasley. ‘Not after last time.’ Despite her condition, she raised a fist and smirked at Ada. ‘Punched him,’ she said.
Mr Weasley laughed. ‘Served me right.’
‘Sounds like he’d do all this for you if he could,’ Ada told Mrs Granger-Weasley warmly.
Mrs Granger-Weasley grinned up at Mr Weasley, with an uncontrolled, goofy grin quite unlike any she had seen on her face before. ‘I know he would, wouldn’t you?’
‘Course I would,’ he said hoarsely.
‘Yes,’ sighed Mrs Weasley. Another contraction came, and Mr Weasley helped her breath through it, looking intently into her face while Ada placed her hand on the firm stomach, then applied a pinard horn.
‘Heartbeat is fine,’ she assured them, when the contraction had passed. ‘You’re doing well.’
After another hour, the potion was starting to wear off, the silliness vanishing, Mrs Granger-Weasley groaning loudly once more, strands of her hair starting to cling to her face. Mr Weasley was murmuring to her, his expression still pale and tense, but she was leaning gratefully into his hand as he massaged her lower back.
Mrs Granger-Weasley panted up at Ada. ‘Bet Ginny didn’t make such a fuss, did she?’
Ada laughed. ‘It’s not a competition! You make as much fuss as you want.’
Ada had been called to the house in the dead of night, but an entire day seemed to have passed and the windows were darkening as dusk fell. As Ada checked Mrs Granger-Weasley once more, Mr Weasley, exhausted and no doubt aching, paced the room, stretching his arms. He glanced out the window.
‘Oh, bloody hell. There’s press loitering outside.’
‘I admire their dedication,’ said Mrs Granger-Weasley faintly. ‘I certainly wouldn’t be hanging around for this long - I’d be completely exhausted.’
Mr Weasley gave a bark of laughter, and Ada smiled too, pulling back from between Mrs Granger-Weasley’s legs. ‘I think we’re ready to go,’ Ada told them brightly. ‘Still happy to go ahead with the charm, Hermione?’
Hermione nodded, but it was Mr Weasley who spoke, rushing back to the bed. ‘Yes - please - do the charm.’
Ada did so, her wand pressed against Mrs Granger-Weasley’s hip.
‘Ron,’ said Hermione, looking up at him in awe. ‘I don’t feel a thing.’
‘Really?’
‘I mean… I… it doesn’t hurt.’
He let out a loud sigh of relief, kissing her head. ‘I’m so glad it worked, he mumbled into her hair. ‘I couldn’t stand you being… I’m glad it’s OK.’
Of course it is,’ she was saying tenderly, and to Ada’s surprise, she was reaching up to caress his face. ‘Of course it’s all right,’ she was murmuring. I told you it would be, I told you I’d be fine.’
‘OK, Hermione, I’m going to tell you when to push, all right?’ said Ada clearly. ‘It won’t be long now, baby is almost here. A couple more hours, probably.’
‘A couple more hours?’ she shrieked.
‘Jesus Christ,’ said Mr Weasley. ‘You’re right, Hermione, the little sod takes after me.’
‘It’s fine, it’s fine,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I can’t feel anything below the waist now, so it’s fine.’
It was fine. Pain gone from the room, the three of them were instead free to intersperse the contractions with jokes and speculations on the laziness of the baby and whether it would follow through in life, discussions on who to tell first and how, gentle last-minute debates on names.
Finally, Ada was telling Mrs Granger-Weasley, ‘one more big push, as big as you can, come on, Hermione!’
Mr Weasley was torn between kissing the side of his wife’s head as she pushed, and leaning over her knees to look. ‘I can see the head,’ he was babbling. ‘Hermione! I can - fuck - Hermione, I can see-’
He bounced back and forth in his dizzied, delirious excitement, that swell of uncontrolled, innate emotion that Ada loved so much, the best part of her job, and then finally…
A moment of silence, and splutter, and then a powerfully loud, squalling cry.
‘Congratulations,’ Ada said. ‘You have a little girl. With mighty lungs on her.’
‘A daughter! A daughter, Hermione! A little girl!’ Mr Weasley was shouting. ‘Look! Look, Hermione! Look at her!’
Ada passed the squirming baby quickly onto Mrs Granger-Weasley’s chest; she gasped and stared at her with wide eyes, brushing the still grimy head and looking into the screaming, red face. ‘Hello,’ she was murmuring. ‘Hello you, clever girl - we’ve been waiting ages. Hello.’
‘She’s beautiful, she’s perfect,’ Mr Weasley was saying, wiping impatiently at his eyes so that he could stare at his new daughter.
‘Mr Weasley, would you like to cut the cord?’
‘Yes - yes-’
‘Well done,’ Ada whispered to him, as he cut it. He glanced up. ‘I know it was hard to see,’ she said. ‘But look now.’
‘Yes,’ he breathed, looking back at his family. ‘Yes - look now.’