Four Weddings and a Funeral

With

30 April, 2004

Folded together at their shoulders like an A-frame ladder, they continue their little two-step. "You look amazingly relaxed," Harry says, flicking a sweat-blackened strand of red hair from her forehead.

"No other choice," she says, smiling dreamily.

His hip is aching but he feels as if he has no right to complain. Amazing how even moments like this have been infected by the stain of Tom's actions. "I love you," he murmurs. She is leaning against him, lending him almost her full weight.

"'Mnot asleep. You always try to sneak that in when you think I'm asleep"

Caught me, he thinks. Together almost eight years, married almost four, and I'm still afraid. Sighing, Harry begins to rock Ginny again, back and forth. "You did fall asleep a few times there. How did you manage?..."

Suddenly, Ginny's face reddens and she lets out a howl. When Harry freezes for a moment, trying to decide whether to move her to the bed, she yells, "Keep moving, Harry, you bastard, keep me bloody MOVING!" Her nails dig into his shoulders. Again, he doesn't feel he has any right to complain.

"Shh... I've got you," he murmurs as soothingly as he can. He can feel her cannon ball of a belly against his own, rigid as he continues to lead her through their two-step. "You're doing great, Gin."

"You try passing one of Trelawney's bloody crystal balls out of your bottom and see if you feel GREAT!"

A familiar, warm face appears at the door. "I recognize that pitch! Sounds like you're getting there, Ginny," says Susan Bones, entering the birthing room in her green Healer's robes.

Ginny begins to cry.

"How frequent are the contractions, Harry?" Susan taps her wand on the painting of irises that doubles as a monitor for Ginny and Jane's condition.

"Still every three and a half minutes, but they're a lot stronger and they seem to last almost two minutes before dropping off."

Still rocking and swaying against Harry's shoulder, Ginny lets out an inchoate growl, then begins to weep onto the sweatshirt that was all that Harry could think to jump into before they came to St. Mungo's.

"Hmm," Susan mutters, looking at a long, squiggly line on the monitor. "Doubled contractions. You never did things the slow and patient way, did you, Ginny?" Susan grins, gently touching Ginny's back.

"Bloody Hufflepuff!" Ginny splutters through her tears. "Get me Nona!" Having passed through a brief trough, Ginny is hit by a second wave of contraction.

"Healer Nesaentz is just next..."

"SUSAN, IF YOU DON'T GET THE BLOODY HEALER IN THIS ROOM RIGHT NOW, I'LL HEX YOUR BLOODY HEAD OFF!"

Susan nods and grins at Harry. "That sounds like my cue; I'll bring her right back"

"DON'T LEAVE ME, SUSAN, DON'T LEAVE ME!" screams Ginny. Harry can see that the skin of her scalp is almost purple.

"I'll be right back with your Birthing Healer, Ginny. Don't worry," Susan says. "Then I'll stay right here through the delivery, I promise. I won't leave you. Now Harry will take care of you while I pop next door." She murmurs, so that only Harry can hear, "And here I was so pleased to be on a happy ward for a change!"

Harry mouths, "Thanks!" and Susan leaves with a wink.

"Don' t leave me, Harry, oh, Merlin, don't leave!" Ginny sobs convulsively. Harry can feel that her belly has begun to release slightly; the contraction is almost over. Once again she collapses against him, her legs almost giving out. "Oh, Merlin, Harry..." she says, groggily.

"I'm not going anywhere, Gin." They continue to sway and step. "You awake?"

Her face is slack against his shoulder, still mottled red but sublimely beautiful. She manages to murmur, "Wake."

"I love you."

***

An hour and a half later, Ginny is on her side, Jane suckling at her breast very happily. Ginny's face is tranquil, transcendently at ease.

Sitting beside them, Harry gazes at them, at Jane's strawberry-and-jet-streaked hair. "She looks like she couldn't decide which side to take after." Gently, he runs a finger through her fine down.

"I can tell you who she takes after, hair-wise: Tonks." Her fingers meet his on their daughter's two-tone head.

He has a family. For the first time since he was one year old, he has a family. He wants to run to the top of St. Mungo's and scream it from the rooftop. He is just about to climb up on the bed instead and collapse beside Jane and Ginny when a quiet cough sounds from the door.

Without taking her eyes from Harry's, Ginny says, "Come in, Susan."

Harry turns to see their Healer friend standing in the doorway looking unaccustomedly timid. She steps just inside the door. "Harry, Ginny, I'm so sorry to intrude, I know this is a very special time."

"You're not intruding, Susan," Ginny murmurs, flashing a somewhat lower-powered smile, very slowly shifting herself up to a sitting posture. "Harry, could you hand Jane to me?"

His stomach plummeting, Harry splutters, "I... But..." The baby--she has fallen asleep--seems so tiny, so fragile.

"You won't break her, Harry," his wife teases gently.

"You sure?" Harry asks. Hands unsteady, he picks her up as he has been taught--head in the elbow, hand under her bum, neck supported by the other hand. His daughter. Suddenly he is reluctant to let her go. He blinks at his wife.

"You can hold her for a while," Ginny says, and Harry knows that if Tom Riddle were still alive, the joy coursing through Harry at this moment would have killed the old bugger. This is unlike any happiness he has ever experienced--not greater, not stronger, but deeper. Different. Blinking away sudden moisture--since when has he become such a sieve?--he looks up at Susan, who is standing there, hands folded in front of her. She's crying; is it a convention?

"Sorry," Susan says, conjuring a hankie. "The reason I came... Your family are all waiting to come in and meet Jane. It's quite a crowd. But..."

"It's okay if they come in, Susan," Harry says, but then looks at his wife. "Isn't it, Gin?"

As she nods, Harry can see her peering at their friend. "What?"

"Well," Susan burbles, her voice suddenly higher, "there's a member of your family who... He really wants to see Jane, but he couldn't be here with everyone..." She stops, chewing on her lip.

Ginny blinks. "Fred?"

Susan nods, and Harry is suddenly very aware of not wanting to drop his daughter in shock. "I didn't think he'd been off of the Thickey ward in..."

"Six years," Susan finishes, her face pale. "This is the first time. He's just outside. May I?..."

Ginny's eyes and mouth both open wide. Harry nods madly for them both.

As Susan flits outside--and she's not usually a flitter--Harry moves to hand Jane back to Ginny but she shakes her head. "You can show her to him," she says, her smile still broad but a single tear dribbling down the side of her face and into her hair. Is it catching?

There is a scuff of wood on wood. Fred is in a Levitation Chair that brushed the door jam, his pet Jarvey Snivellus on his shoulder. It's been a couple of months since Harry has seen his brother-in-law, and while he is by no means totally recovered, the improvement is remarkable. He is sitting up--a large improvement on its own--and while his left side is clearly still less strong than his right, the exaggerated leer on his face is nowhere near as extreme.

"Been busy, Gin-gin?" Snivellus says; Fred still isn't able to speak entirely on his own to anyone but Susan, who claims to be able to understand him quite well.

"We both have," Ginny says, laying her hand lightly on Harry's bicep, just where Jane's sleeping head is resting. Harry walks forward and shows the baby to Fred.

"Bloody hell," mutters the Jarvey; even the wry smirk gone now, Fred mumbles, "Blahew."

"Would you like to hold her, Fred?" asks Harry.

The blue eyes flash up to him now. "Hell, yes," says the Jarvey.

"I'll help you get your arms ready, sweetheart," Susan mutters, and as she casts an antiseptic charm and shows Fred how to hold his arms Harry looks over to Ginny, who favors him with a toothy grin. She's been telling him for months that Susan is more than Fred's Healer.

Very carefully, Harry lowers Jane into the little cradle that Fred has formed of his arms in his lap. One of Susan's hands is on Fred's weaker arm, ready to aid, to intervene, the other stroking his cheek. "Blahew," Fred says staring down at the tiny bundle. Snivellus is silent.

Harry feels Ginny grab hold of his hand. He squeezes back.

Fred sits there for a full minute, staring down at the baby. When he looks up, Harry sees that he too has joined the Crying Club.

"I'm going to bring her back to Harry, all right, love?" Susan says. "Then we'll get you back upstairs for some rest."

"Hell, yes," Snivellus barks, and Susan gently picks up the baby.

"Give her to Ginny," Harry says, aware that he is trembling.

"Nice work, Potty," says Snivellus as Jane is returned to her mother.

"Thanks, Fred," Harry manages to get out.

"We'll let your family know you're ready to see them," Susan says, and as suddenly as they arrived, they are gone.

Ginny gazes up at him, her eyes bright. "Nice work, Potty."

Harry comes very close to crying again. Instead he smiles. "You were amazing. You are amazing."

Favoring him with a smile that seems to fill the whole room, Ginny sighs. "So are you, love. Thank you."

Harry's eyes begin to fill again. "For what? I... I love you." He's been saying that a lot, and it doesn't seem to have lost it's meaning. "I couldn't believe, between the contractions, how relaxed you were."

Her brown eyes lock on his. "You remember the morning of the battle at the Ministry? We were holed up by the Arch, and I was all twitchy, and I asked how you could be so calm? You said it was because you had been born to live that moment, and that you didn't know what was going to happen, but that you knew that whatever was you were supposed to do, you would do it."

Harry nods, remembering that Hermione launched into a nervous diatribe about the dangers of fatalism until Ron quieted her with a kiss. Poor Hermione. Jane.

"That's how I felt, Harry. How I feel. I have no idea what we're going to do with this little creature, but I know we'll do what we're supposed to do." Seeing his solemn face, she laughs. "Come on, Potter, if you can face down Tom Riddle, you can do anything."

He can feel his chin trembling, his stomach quivering. "That was nothing. I feel as if we're leaping off of a cliff into darkness."

Taking her hand from his, she strokes Harry's cheek, which he suddenly realizes is damp. "But it's not dark, is it? Just unknown."

Harry nods.

That radiant grin filling her face and Harry's vision again, Ginny says, "And we're together. So let's leap."