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Pressing over her belly, Hermione could feel the small kicks of her child growing inside. They were nearly “done baking”, as Molly said, and she could not wait to meet the little bundle of joy.
Would they have her wild curls? Their father’s bright green eyes? Would they be freckled like her, or olive-skinned like Harry?
She bit her lower lip as she rubbed the side of her stomach. Would they have all their little fingers and toes?
As if to reassure her, another swift kick landed just under her palm, and she giggled.
“Yes, okay, peanut, you’re right. You’re perfect.” She began to hum a soft tune, one her mother used to sing to her when she was young, and she leaned back in the recliner to raise her swollen feet off the ground, closing her eyes with a sigh. “But when, oh when, will you be greeting us?”
A sudden warm wetness flooded her knickers. Her eyes shot open as she debated whether this was her water breaking or if her body finally gave up and she’d peed herself.
It had to be her water breaking, right?
The Floo behind her activated, lighting up the room in a green glow and sending a rush of air past her, the scent of cedar and broom polish filling her nostrils.
“Hiya, lovebug.” Harry leaned over her from behind and kissed her cheek. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“Well… Potentially becoming a mother tonight,” she said, just as a contraction gripped her, and she moaned in pain, her fingers digging into the arms of the chair.
Rushing around to her front while dropping everything in his arms, he fell to the floor before her and held his hands over her stomach, hovering, a wild look in his eyes.
“What’s going on? Are you okay? What can I do?”
Breathing through her nose, the pain slowly subsided, and she met his gaze. “Grab our go bag, love.”
His eyes widened in wonder as he leaned forward to kiss her swollen belly. “It’s time?”
She smiled, cupping his jaw. “It’s time. Let’s go have a baby.”
Many hours and loads of tears later, she held a small girl to her breast, her red skin still so incredibly warm, with a small knitted red cap on her head. Tiny fingers gripped Harry’s pinky as he leaned over them both.
“She’s beautiful.” He turned to his wife, gently kissing her sweaty temple. “You’re a mother, officially.”
“I won’t tell Crooks you said that.”
“Fair. He’s only just begun to tolerate me.”
They shared a chuckle before both gazing back at the miracle in her arms.