Moments of Love

Chapter 16: The Princess Is Born - Part 1

'Incoming woman in labour!'

Ron threw open the doors of St Tinytoes and pushed Hermione in. 'We need anti-pain spells and hot water and towels! Over here, nurse!' He grabbed at a passing witch in a white suit. 'Come on, a chair for my wife, woman!' He poked at the nurse's arm. 'Can't you see that she's about to give birth?'

'Calm down, Ron.' Hermione seized his hand. 'I'm fine, sorry,' she said to the nurse, who was looking at them with an appalled expression.

'Your water broke,' Ron said. 'Now is not the time to be calm! I will not have baby Rommy flopping on the floor!'

Hermione smiled apologetically at the nurse, who had folded her hands on her ample chest.

'Please forgive my husband. This is our first baby.'

'I can see that,' the nurse said, eyeing Ron from head to toe. 'Has your water broken?'

'Yes, half an hour ago. And I'm timing my contractions.' Hermione dug out her pocket watch. 'So far I've had one, twenty-six minutes ago.'

The nurse snorted and veered around the reception.

'In that case you have no reason to run around like a headless chicken, Mrs...?'

'Weasley,' Ron said and slammed the bag on the counter. 'And are you out of your mind? Of course we're in a hurry. Her water broke, for Merlin's sake!'

'I know all about the stages of labour,' Hermione said, slightly offended. 'But I wanted to play it safe, and my husband, you see...'

'Indeed.' The nurse raised her black, bushy eyebrows and took out a quill and a piece of parchment. 'Fill this form, please.'

Hermione filled the form while Ron sniffed and huffed beside her, shooting dismayed looks at the nurse. He eyed Hermione's progress, and when she put down the quill, he instantly rang the bell. The nurse took an abnormally long time to put down her parchments and move to their end of the counter to check the form.

'This seems to be in order,' she said, wrinkling her nose. 'Unfortunately, we're swamped tonight. Three mediwizards are sick, and a record number of witches have gone into labour, so we've had to call in volunteers to help. They don't have official medical training, but they are all experienced in childbirth. You'll be assigned one when we have a moment.' She took the quill and looked at them no more.

'Thanks,' Hermione said. 'What room - oh!' She grabbed at the counter as sudden pain made her knees buckle. 'C-contraction...'

'I'm here!' Ron dashed to her side and took her hand. 'Breathe! Breathe! Nurse, get her a chair!'

'W-watch,' Hermione breathed as Ron stroked her back. 'Check the t-time!'

Ron whipped out his watch.

'11:58 pm. The chair!' He turned to the nurse, who was putting the form into a box labelled "Non-Urgent Patients".

'I'm okay,' Hermione said weakly and leaned against Ron. 'It's over.'

Ron held her close and brushed her cheek, his lips tight and white. He laid his wand on the counter so that it pointed straight at the nurse, the golden Auror imprint glowing in the light of the chandelier above.

'My wife is in pain. You will get her a chair. Now.'

The nurse's eyes widened as they caught the Auror ornament.

'Of course. Begging your pardon, sir,' she said quickly and pointed her wand at a pile of wooden wheelchairs in the corner. The top one jumped into the air and floated gracefully to Hermione.

'Room 72 1/6,' the nurse said with a twitchy smile. 'Someone should be over soon to examine you, Mrs Weasley.'

'Thank you,' Ron said and helped Hermione in the chair. It zoomed quietly onwards.

'This is an interesting device.' Hermione looked over the arm at the wheels that rolled slowly in the air. 'The wheels are useless in this model, whereas in Muggle wheelchairs they're essential. I do wonder if they were actually used at some point of the chair's evolution, or if they're there just for decorative purposes...'

'Bloody nurse,' Ron muttered as he followed the chair into a long corridor. 'Can't imagine what she was thinking...water broke...no chair...contraction...'

'Never mind,' Hermione said. 'You were deliciously scary. By the way, I wonder if our room is shared.'

'Shared?' Ron looked at her in astonishment. 'Of course it isn't shared, you're giving birth! Look.' He gestured around the corridor. Rows and rows of doors, all different colours, lined the walls.

'Of course, magic.' Hermione smiled and stroked her belly. 'I was really quite nervous about having to share with someone. Childbirth is such an intimate experience. Or you know, so I've read.'

The orange door of room number 72 1/6 opened quietly as they approached it. Ron helped the chair in and put the bag on the floor.

'Oh, Ron!' Hermione exhaled. 'It's lovely!'

The walls were half-panelled, and the top half was covered with cream-coloured wallpaper with pink roses. Pale yellow curtains fluttered slightly in the window, exposing a bright sliver of the moon. There was a comfortable bed near the window, and the rest of the floor was decked with pillows, armchairs, plush toys, and a puffy sofa.

The wheelchair zoomed to an empty spot by the door, and Hermione stood up, holding her belly and examining a tall shelf on the other side of the wheelchair.

'Look, there's a gramophone, and some magazines -ha, even The Quibbler!- and lotion...and look at these slippers!' She held up a furry pair of bunny slippers. '"The patented Birth Bunnies gently massage your feet while keeping them comfortably cool."'

'That's all fine and dandy, but you have to lie down now,' Ron said and steered Hermione towards the bed. 'You could have another contraction any minute.'

'Nah, the last interval was over twenty minutes,' Hermione said and touched a letter on a purple table by the bed. 'What's this?'

The letter jumped into the air and opened like a mouth.

'Welcome to birthing room 72 1/6,' said a chirpy voice. 'We hope you enjoy your stay and that your little witch or wizard has a pleasant start in life. The room is equipped with a Wizuper Bunk 1000, which offers unparalleled comfort for the mother-to-be. Also, pillows, armchairs, and a sofa are provided in case the mother feels more comfortable using them in the active labour stage. The closet opposite the bed hosts clothes for the mother and her birthing partner, as well as a supply of ice, towels, and spell books. Drinks and snacks can be found on the top shelf of the closet. If you wish to contact a member of the staff for assistance, please press the yellow button by the bed. If there is an emergency, please press the red button below the yellow one. Should you wish to listen to this message again, please tap the letter with your wand. Thanks for choosing St Tinytoes, and happy labour!'

The letter folded itself and floated back to the table.

Hermione grinned and sat on the bed.

'Oh, this is nice, very firm yet soft.'

Ron bent down to untie her shoes.

'I think we should get you changed right away. Mum said the hospital clothes are pretty nice here.'

'And look at this!' Hermione lay back to pick a blanket from a baby basket on the other side of the bed. 'It's so soft!'

'Easy there, bright eyes,' Ron said and pulled Hermione up to remove her cloak and dress. 'I have a feeling you'll be cursing my name profoundly before the tot's here...lift your arm...'

'I'm just so happy we're here,' Hermione said as Ron pulled the dress over her head. 'I'm so tired of this belly.'

'Let's see...' Ron opened the closet and rummaged through the piles of clothes. 'I think this one's for you.' He gave Hermione a small, blue dress that was open at the back. 'And I suppose these are for me.' He threw a pair of loose white trousers and a shirt on the bed.

'"Self-expanding,"' Hermione read the label on the dress. 'I guess it moulds to my size automatically. That's actually really handy, you know, as it eliminates the need for different sizes. Oh, and it slips right on. Look, even the strings tie themselves!'

Ron's mop of hair emerged from the neck hole of the shirt.

'Sweet. I look like a crackpot run away from a mental institution,' he said and craned his neck to examine himself. 'These trousers are practically a skirt.'

'You look fine, very dashing,' Hermione said and climbed on the bed. 'You have to try this, it's heavenly -'

A sudden commotion in the corridor made them look at the door. It sounded like a herd of wild cattle accompanied by frantic voices.

'69 4/9....70 1/3...not far now...'
'What odd room numbers...'
'Arthur, stop brushing the walls with the flowers!'
'I'm not, Molly, this bouquet is simply too big!'
'I wonder how far along she is...'
'Ah! Here!'

The door burst open, and Arthur and Molly rushed in with Hermione's parents in tail.

'Hermione, sweetheart! Finally!' Molly ran to hug Hermione, bumping into Mrs Granger in her daze. 'How are you, dear? We came as soon as we got hold of the Grangers. Have you had any contractions yet?'

'Yes, two,' Hermione said, spitting Molly's wild curls from her mouth. 'Twenty-eight minutes apart, both lasting about forty-five seconds.'

Molly coughed and patted Hermione's hand.

'I'm sure it's very good you came in early, sweetie.'

'Molly, do give way to the Grangers,' Arthur said and felt his chest pocket. 'How are you holding up, son? I have a gift for you...if I could just find it...'

Molly moved aside, still breathing rapidly, and her eyes fell on Ron.

'You have rubbed her back, haven't you?' she asked and tugged at his shirt to straighten out a wrinkle. 'You have to be very supportive, you know. Labour is terribly painful and tiring.'

Hermione grimaced.

'How are you, sweetie?' Mrs Granger sat on the bed and squeezed Hermione's hand. A wave of emotion rushed through Hermione, and her sight blurred with tears. 'I'm fine,' she whispered. 'I'm so glad you're here.'

'We wouldn't miss it for the world,' her father said. 'And we brought you a little something...' He laid a bouquet of yellow roses on the bed and opened a plastic bag. 'Flowers, chocolate, and this.' He held up a thick opus, Nose Warts and Black Cats - A Modern View of the Witch Hunts.

'Oh, Dad!' Hermione grabbed the book. 'It's wonderful! Thanks so much. I can't wait to dig in!'

'And here's our bouquet.' Molly placed a rather suffered bunch of pink flowers on the bed. 'I'm afraid Arthur wasn't very careful with them.'

'Never mind.' Hermione smiled at Arthur, who was still digging through his pockets. 'They're lovely, thanks. Ron, would you...?'

'Sure.' Ron picked up the bouquets and put them in vases on the windowsill. 'They said someone would come over soon to examine Hermione, but they have a shortage of mediwizards tonight.'

'Hermione hasn't been examined yet?' Mr Granger asked, his brow furrowed. 'Do you even know how much you've dilated?'

Ron's ears went crimson, but before he managed to say anything, the door creaked.

'Ah, this must be a mediwizard now,' Mr Granger said eagerly.

The door slid fully open. A tall woman draped in a glittering, black dress stood on the doorstep, blinking hazily at them. Her watery blue eyes wandered slowly over the group and finally stopped at Hermione. She extended her hand and swept into the room like a violent breeze.

'My dear wombette, are you ready to travel the joyous journey of the expanding flesh?'