Work Text:
19 Sept 1979
5:55 am
St. Thomas Hospital
London, England
Room 606, Mother-Baby Ward
Edmund Granger gently examined the angelic features of his new daughter. His wife, Helen, was sleeping soundly in the hospital bed beside him and he didn’t want to wake her when little Hermione arrived back from the nursery.
He traced her button nose and pursed pink lips. He’s never known anything could be so tiny and utterly perfect. She was utterly magical.
He and Helen had dismissed parenthood, they were in their mid 40’s, established in their shared dental practice and enjoyed the freedom that being child free provided. When Helen fell pregnant, despite all the preventative measures, they were flooded with a surprising amount of instant joy. It was meant to be, they decided.
Edmund wondered if she might take after Helen’s sleek espresso brown hair or his own tight chestnut ringlets. If she would be pale and freckled like him or catch a golden tan after one measly hour in the garden like Helen. If she might be academically minded like them, if she might-
A sharp tap at the window alerted him and his gaze was jerked from his newborn to the glass plane and the owl sitting just outside of it. How strange, he thought, he’d thought an owl would’ve been tucked into its habitat by now as the dawn had arrived. Edmund smiled and angled his infant to the owl.
“Look” he smiled at the owl, “Her name is Hermione Granger. A lovely little thing, isn’t she?”
The owl blinked, almost in acknowledgement, and bowed forward before taking off.
“How strange indeed- a good omen, perhaps? Huh, Hermione?”