Moments of Love

Author's note: My deepest apologies for taking so long to update! Real life has been inconveniently busy. Thanks for your patience! Not long to go...:-)

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Chapter 15: Get This Baby Out!

'Ron!'

Hermione's whisper echoed in the dark room. It was quiet save the faint snoring coming from under the mop of tousled red hair beside her.

'Ron!' Hermione rumpled the ginger curls. 'It's time!'

'Wha?' Ron raised his head, his eyes half-closed.

'I'm having the baby!'

'What? Now?' Ron rushed up so that the bed squeaked and his feet tangled in the sheets. 'Oh, shoot!' He swayed, flailing his hands, and fell beside the bed with a thump. Hermione grimaced and leaned to look over the edge.

'Are you all right?'

'I'm fine, I'm fine!' Ron's head emerged again. 'Don't panic! I'll boil some water and...get some...rags...you just...spread your legs...'

Hermione wrenched herself up, fighting laughter.

'We're going to the hospital, you twit. I've already packed my bag, remember? No hot water and rags needed. Just help me u-u-up!' A powerful wave of pain crippled her lower abdomen, and she collapsed back down.

'Is it a contraction?' Ron jumped onto the bed, sending the pillows flying, and took her hand. 'Push!'

'I can't push yet!' Hermione panted. 'Come on, you know this stuff. I've quizzed you about this stuff. Get my ba-a-ag!' Another wave of pain tore through her, and her nails dug deep into Ron's arm.

'Oh my -' Ron pressed his lips together and doubled over. 'I think we need to gooo! Hermione, you're cutting off my arm!'

'I don't care!' Hermione could feel sweat beading on her forehead. 'Just get me to the hospital, NOW!'

--x--x--

'I'm so sorry,' Hermione said sheepishly and smoothed out a wrinkle in her dress. 'I've read about false labour, and I should have recognised it.'

'Don't worry, false contractions are very common, and they aren't always easy to tell from real contractions, especially when it's your first pregnancy,' the mediwizard said and patted Hermione's shoulder. 'I gave your husband a few brochures that you can read to find out more. Now, go home and have some rest.'

Ron emerged from the loo, shaking his hand. He was wearing only his pyjamas and a jumper.

'I think I need a sickie. Look at this hand, it's basically defunct.'

'Nonsense. I just squeezed it a bit,' Hermione said and pointed at the bag on the floor. 'Let's go, I need to lie down.'

Ron gave her a dark look.

'And I need an ice bucket.'

They apparated home. Juno, their brand new owl, was ruffling her wings and hooting softly on the porch. Ron scratched her silky head absent-mindedly and let out a deep yawn.

'I'll put the kettle on,' Hermione said as Ron tucked the bag under a chair. 'I can't sleep, and I have to read those brochures...'

'Go wild, old girl,' Ron said, his chin stretching into another long yawn. 'And please don't wake me up again until you can see the head.'

--x--x--

'False labour?' Ginny said with a grin. 'I had one with James. It was embarrassing.'

'And it scared the poor Harry to death,' Molly said and gave Hermione a bowl full of dark red soup. 'Here, sweetie, it'll help you relax.'

'Thanks,' Hermione said, even though the soup looked like cooked blood. 'Actually, we call those Braxton-Hicks contractions in the Muggle world. It's rather interesting, really -'

Ron winked at Harry, who coughed to hide his smile. Arthur, however, leaned on eagerly.

'Yes?'

'...well, it appears that wizards have known about these false contractions since 1254 when Augustus Worple was studying pregnant witches in Inveraray. Hence, they're called Worple contractions here, but the Muggles only discovered them in 1827. It was an English doctor called John Braxton Hicks, who -'

'Amazing.' Arthur plucked a spoon into his tea cup. 'Now, tell me, what is this "epicuring" thing I keep hearing about?'

--x--x--

Hermione stared at the ceiling where shadows of trees danced in the bright autumn sunlight.

'Come on, baby,' she whispered. 'I would so like to meet you already.'

Nothing, not even a kick. Or a Braxton-Hicks contraction, for that matter. Hermione groaned and reached for the pile of books on the table beside the sofa.

'Which book?' Ron peeked from behind his Quidditch Monthly.

'A Witchy Pregnancy.'

'Coming right up...' Ron flicked his wand, and a green, hefty volume floated into the air and opened quietly in front of Hermione. 'See, swish and flick.' Ron winked, but Hermione managed only a miserable grimace.

'I don't understand why the baby won't come out. I'm a week past my due date, and I can barely function any more! Look at my belly!' Hermione stroked her magnificent bump wistfully. 'Besides, why's Ginny's belly half smaller?'

Ron sighed.

'We've been through this. She's titchy, and Harry's a shorty.'

'Are you implying I'm a porker?'

'No, dear rib, I'm not implying you're a porker. I'm implying that you have a Ron-baby in there.' Ron flexed his arm muscles, his eyes twinkling, but Hermione sniffed.

'Still. It's not fair. There has to be something in here...' Hermione flipped the pages of the book furiously. '"Foods to Avoid"..."Charms for Your Feet"..."Coping with the Hormone Tornado"...ha! "Ways to Induce Labour"!'

'I forbid you to stand on your head or run around a pole naked,' Ron said idly and summoned an apple from a bowl behind the books.

Hermione ignored him and ran her finger along the list.

'Herbs...castor oil...spicy foods...walking...making love...' She looked up hopefully. 'Well, what do you think?'

'Are you out of your mind?' Ron dropped the magazine, looking indignant. 'I'm not boinking you when you have a belly that size. I'd end up crushing the tot!'

'Believe me, I'm not keen to be boinked either in this condition, but it says here that making love is a very effective way to induce labour.'

'You'll have to find other ways of inducing,' Ron said stubbornly and bit his apple.

'Fine, I'll try these other things first, but I warn you...if they don't work, I'm dragging you to the bedroom,' Hermione said. She copied down the list and struggled up to check the contents of the kitchen cupboards. There was no castor oil, and the herb jars were woefully empty, but Molly would no doubt have some. Hermione called for Juno and sent her to the Burrow with a short letter tied on her leg. As she waited for her to return, she started walking around the living room and doing somestretches.

'Ah, pineapple!' She noticed another item on the list as she marched past the fireplace. 'Ron, you'll have to pop out to get me some pineapple. And find out if that new Muggle Imports shop sells chilli beans. Or canned chilli con carne.'

'Hermione.' Ron stretched out his hand to catch her. 'Don't you think you're overreacting a tad? The baby'll come out when she's ready.'

'Easy to say when you're not lugging around a twenty-pound belly! Besides, I'm convinced it's a boy. Know Your Bump has these illustrations of belly shapes, and mine's definitely a boy shape.'

'Tosh, it's a Weasley princess,' Ron said and stood up. 'So, pineapple, dill...what else?'

'Chilli,' Hermione corrected. 'It's a spicy Muggle food. Oh, and get some castor oil just in case, and black and blue cohosh.'

'Black and blue what?'

'Cohosh, it's an herb. Wait! Do you have your Wizbirth tag in case I go into labour?'

'Always with me, muffin.' Ron tapped a brown leather bracelet with a tiny paper pad and pen on his wrist. 'I swear, this is one of George's best inventions. Hospitals and shops all over the world are ordering them like crazy.'

'Indeed.' Hermione changed her direction and did a jig of sorts. 'Off you go. I want my baby.'

--x--x--

'Come out!' Hermione wailed and hit the pillow. 'Why doesn't he want to come out?'

'She loves your comfy womb so much,' Ron muttered sleepily. 'Is it hot in here?'

'I'm ten days past my due date,' Hermione said and brushed away a tear of frustration. 'My body isn't functioning the way it should!'

'Muffin, I know you're ill equipped to deal with things that don't go by the book, but remember what the mediwizard said: due dates are just rough estimates, and your body takes as long as it needs.'

'Rubbish. My due date must have been calculated wrong. Ron, come on!'

'What?' Ron buried his head in the pillow.

'Make love to me! I've been drinking oil and eating spices for days now, but they don't help. Making love is the only thing left on my list.'

Ron raised his head and swept a curl from his eyes.

'Hermione,' he said dignifiedly. 'We've been through this. I don't feel comfortable making love to you while our baby -note: baby, not embryo- is just inches away, ripe and ready to pop out.'

'And we've been through the sausage stage, too.' Hermione ground her teeth. 'The baby is well protected, so stop mucking around. In fact...' She shifted sideways and bumped into Ron, who raised his arms in astonishment.

'What are you d-...Hermione!'

Hermione wrenched herself on top of Ron and started opening the strings of his pyjama trousers.

'Hermione, stop it!' Ron tried to force her hands away, but she hissed like an angry cat.

'I've had it with being pregnant. You will get this baby out of me, Ronald Weasley!'

'This is highly improper!' Ron tugged at the strings in Hermione's hands. 'Get down, woman!'

'Put a sock in it,' Hermione said breathily and pulled the string out in one slick motion. 'Trousers off, Ronald.'

'I will not be manhandled like this!' Ron wriggled under Hermione, who had clamped her legs tightly around him. 'As your husband, I command you to stop!'

'Then act like a husband,' Hermione said between gritted teeth and pulled down the pyjama trousers. 'I thought all men dreamed of an aggressive...oh!' She halted suddenly.

'Hermione!' Ron's eyes rounded and moved down to his waist. 'You're a bit excited, aren't you?'

Hermione lifted the hem of her nightgown. A slow smile spread on her face.

'No, Ron,' she whispered. 'My water just broke.'