Moments of Love

Author's note: Professor Trelawney's first name is spelled "Sibyll" in the US editions of the books, but "Sybill" in the UK editions, which are the editions I have.

Chapter 13: Be the Womb!

'Come on, Ron!' Hermione was standing at the door and tapping her foot imperiously against the floor. 'We mustn't be late!'

Ron emerged from the living room, pulling his jacket on with a sour look.

'I'm telling you, this is a scam. It's what you get when you answer an ad in The Quibbler. We'll probably be surrounded by naked people chanting about the deep, hidden might of the womb.'

Hermione snickered. 'Fiddlesticks! Childbirth classes have been around in the Muggle world for decades, and they're very popular. There's even this technique called Lamaze, and -'

'Please, no French mazes,' Ron said with a long-suffering look and locked the door. 'And I'm not doing any kinky stuff in public.'

Hermione smiled and stroked Ron's hand.

'I solemnly promise we'll leave the kinky stuff for private moments. This class is all about learning how to give birth and have an amazing experience. You ready?'

She spun on the spot, vaguely aware of Ron's muttering.

'...I wouldn't exactly call squeezing a small potato sack out of there an amazing experience, let alone having to witness it...'

They apparated to the end of Partridge Road. It was a narrow, winding path running into a grid of small houses very close to Knockturn Alley. There were dinky shops on both sides, and Hermione could hear Ron sniffing as they read the signs. "Oozing Eggs"..."Charms To Go"..."Frogs R Us"...

'Bet Neville'd like that one.' Ron turned his head as they passed a window with a pond where several slimy toads sat watching them.

'Here it is.' Hermione consulted the ad she had clipped from the paper. 'Come on, it starts in five minutes, and I'd like to have a chat with the instructor first!'

They opened a rusty door next to the frog shop and climbed squeaky stairs to the second floor. A door was ajar at the end of the corridor, and lively chatter sounded from the flat.

'Wait a minute!' Ron seized Hermione's sleeve as they passed the open door. 'Look at that sign!'

Gwendolyn Trelawney
Wizarding Birth Consultant. Natural Birth Expert. Lover of Babies. Single and Available.

'Trelawney! She must be related to the old bat. See?' Ron looked victoriously at Hermione, who felt her cheeks flush. There hadn't been a name in the ad, just the description, time, and address.

'It's probably a distant relative,' she said and continued to the flat. 'The ad said she's been keeping these classes for five years now. She can't possibly be a fraud!'

'Did you read the sign?' Ron hissed as they hung their coats on a dilapidated rack in a crammed entrance hall. '"Single and available?" That woman can't be anything else than barking.'

'Pfth!' Hermione said and turned to another doorway that led to a large, round room. There were pregnant women everywhere, sitting on the floor and talking in groups by the walls.

'Ladies, gentlemen, time to begin!' a soft voice said, and a spindly woman emerged from a lopsided door at the back of the room. Her hair was striped with the colours of the rainbow, and she was wearing a black velvet dress that had babies embroidered in it with multi-coloured crystals.

'Mad, I'm telling you. Mad!' Ron whispered as they sat down near the door.

'Welcome, my dear wombettes, welcome! Gather round and please sit down. Our wombettes must be as close to the earth's vibrating core as possible.'

Ron turned to Hermione, but he didn't look irritated any more; he was grinning in an annoying "told-you-so" manner.

Hermione bit her lip and refused to look at Ron. So maybe Gwendolyn Trelawney was slightly peculiar, but she had to be an expert. Determinedly, Hermione put her hand in the air.

'Yes, dear.' Gwendolyn Trelawney pointed at Hermione with a thin finger shining with purple nail polish. She had no spectacles, but the resemblance to Sybill Trelawney was quite clear.

'I was just wondering if it's too late for us to join you? I'm thirty-three weeks pregnant now, and I would definitely have come earlier, but I didn't know about your class -'

'That's fine, dear,' Gwendolyn said. 'You have approximately seven weeks to go, and that's plenty of time to find your inner womb and eventually deliver amidst cries of joy for the expanding universe.'

'Can't wait to hear your cries of joy in the delivery room, my dear wombette,' Ron whispered and folded his hands on his chest. He looked like he was enjoying himself immensely.

'Now, we will continue our lesson from last time,' Gwendolyn said and stepped over a man sitting next to a woman with a crown of flowers on her head. 'Wombettes, lie down on the floor. Fathers, position yourselves on the side -'

'Excuse me,' Ron said loudly. 'But can I ask you why you call the women wombettes?' His voice quivered slightly with amusement, and Hermione narrowed her eyes. Everybody else was smiling hazily, so she didn't dare grimace at him.

'My dear father-to-be, have you not read my book, Be the Womb?' Gwendolyn cocked her head and tucked a green curl behind her ear.

Ron cocked his head, too, with a deeply pondering expression.

'I'm not sure. My dear wombette has brought home so many pregnancy books. Would you mind running it by me quickly?'

'Young man, pregnancy is a natural part of the universe. The universe is a pulsating, expanding orb of togetherness, ever seeking to burst out from its seams and join the celestial forces of love.' Gwendolyn closed her eyes and raised her hands to the ceiling. 'Each pregnant woman is the universe in miniature, a clenching womb yearning to expel the new creation growing within her. Once the woman understands this, she can distinguish herself as a throbbing womb, a unit where the love of the universe has condensed into one small fetus. Thus...wombette!' Gwendolyn weaved her body around with an entranced smile on her lips.

Hermione stared at Gwendolyn's jig with her mouth open. Ron was coughing violently into his hands, but nobody else seemed to have found the speech strange; many people were smiling and nodding.

'Now,' Gwendolyn said breathily. 'Settle down on the floor, wombettes. Fathers, place one hand behind the wombette's neck, the other one on the wombette's belly, and start singing.'

'Start what?' Ron jumped.

'Singing, my boy, singing! Chant the song of the universe in your wombette's ear, learn to make her forget the pain and find the joy in seeing her child join the universe's web of love. Remember to massage your wombette's belly with your other hand -call the child forward, further its passage from the dark depths!'

Hermione pursed her lips, desperately trying not to laugh, and lay down on the floor. Ron stared at Gwendolyn with a truly appalled expression, but Gwendolyn had already rushed to a couple on the side.

'Go ahead, then, sing,' Hermione said teasingly and pulled a strand of hair from her eyes. 'You do want baby Rommy to join the universe of love, don't you?'

'I want to get baby Rommy as far away from these twits as possible,' Ron said, but put his hands behind Hermione's neck and on her tummy as instructed. 'Come on, you can't believe in this nonsense.'

'Fine, I don't, but we can't just leave, it'd be rude. Pretend you're singing and give me a nice tummy massage instead.'

Ron started moving his hand slowly along Hermione's tummy, his eyes following Gwendolyn, who was walking among the chanting couples. A man wearing red spectacles burst suddenly into a resounding yodel.

'Oh George!' his wife screamed, massaging her tummy. 'I can feel the baby moving, it's restless, the universe is calling, a light coming closer, closer...!'

The man continued singing in an operatic voice while making elaborate swirls above the woman's belly with his free hand.

'I can feel the baby's spirit, it's a child of love...come, child, see the stars, expel yourself from the darkness!'

'Sing, sing!' Gwendolyn circled the couple, following the movements of the man's hand with her glittering wand. 'This child is ready, and this woman has entered the state of superior wombness! Her child will be born to great joy, from a body in balance with the universe!'

'Er, Ron,' Hermione said. 'Maybe we could say I'm feeling nauseous...'

Too late.

'And you!' Gwendolyn spun around and rushed to Hermione. 'Your body is still clogged; I can feel the hardness of your womb! Your child can't feel the love nor join the universe unless you release the hold of your mind over your body. Sing, ginger, sing! Release your wombette to be the womb she can be!' She pointed at Ron with her trembling wand.

'I, er...um...'

'Mary Had a Little Lamb,' Hermione whispered. She had been singing it to the baby lately, and Ron had picked it up easily.

'Mary had a little womb -I mean lamb!' Ron said hastily, massaging Hermione's leg frantically. 'Its fleece was, um, as white as snow...'

'My boy, lambs or Mary won't help your baby to reach the light.' Gwendolyn poked at Ron with her sparkling wand. 'You have to chant the birth canal open, stretch the womb with your words, push your wombette deeper into a union with the cosmos of love!'

Ron kept massaging Hermione's leg so hard that Hermione was sure she'd get a cramp in it. His eyes were big and wild, and he was obviously struggling to find a way to escape another song.

'So Gwen,' he said genially. 'You're single, then? Must be a hard job, seeing all the expecting couples.'

'My dear.' Gwendolyn pushed her face so close to Ron's that he jerked his head sharply backwards. 'Joining the universe of love is difficult. Like so many of my esteemed family members, I, too, possess the Inner Eye. I see many couples destined to fail, many men desperate for a gentle, loving soul instead of the grating nag at home. And when the need arises...I'll be there.' She made a sweeping gesture towards the window.

Hermione rose on her elbows and guided Ron's hand onto her belly. He was nodding slowly, his eyes fixed on Gwendolyn's earring, a small cupid winking vigorously at him.

'I'm sorry, Miss Trelawney,' Hermione said and pressed Ron's hand. She didn't like the way the cupid was throwing pink hearts at her husband. 'I'm feeling slightly unwell. Perhaps we should go home and return later.'

Gwendolyn nodded gravely.

'Ah, constipation. I knew something was blocking the canals, both of the flesh and of the spirit. Keep working on your inner womb, dear. Be the womb!'

'I most certainly will,' Hermione said, forcing out a smile as Ron helped her up. 'Thanks, and um, good luck!' She waved quickly and pulled Ron out of the room. They put their coats on in silence and descended the stairs without a word. When they reached the street, Ron leaned against the jagged wall of the building and exhaled deeply. They looked at each other, their lips trembling. Then they burst into fits of laughter that didn't cease even when an elderly man passed them and hastened away, looking nervously over his shoulder.

'You know you have a new nickname, don't you?' Ron said and wiped his eyes. 'And no force in the universe can prevent me from calling you my little wombette as long as you're pregnant.'

Hermione straightened herself, supporting her back with her hands, and swallowed a hiccough.

'I suppose I deserve it. I can't believe I responded to an ad in The Quibbler!'

'My dear wombette, you can make up your blunder tonight by introducing the kinky stuff. I was so looking forward to it.'

'Liar,' Hermione whispered. 'But first, I think we both deserve a good, long visit to Sprinkle's Ice Cream Parlour!'