Hunted

Chapter 14: The New Arrivals

Angela sliced potatoes in the restored kitchen at Beecher's Knoll. She gazed out the picture window at the gardens surrounding the quaint cottage. The perennials were just pushing their tender green shoots up through the brown earth. Buds the color of rich wine sprouted from once bare rose canes. Beyond in the meadow, the grass glowed a golden spring green in the late afternoon sun. Early May had come to the countryside. Signs of the earth's rebirth were everywhere to behold.

Angela returned her attention to her dinner preparations. Her fingers arranged potatoes in a shallow roasting pan, sprinkled them with herbs and seasonings, and drizzled olive oil over them. While she worked, she sang a love song, a lilting happy tune.

A noise from behind grabbed her attention. She spun around and caught sight of her husband's gaze fixed upon her. The notes of the tune faded into an embarrassed silence. She blushed. Remus leaned against the fieldstone fireplace across the room, an adoring smile on his face.

"What are you looking at?" Angela asked with a giggle.

"You," Remus said. "Singing like a bird. You're beautiful."

"Me? Beautiful? I'm as large as a Hungarian Ridgeback. Or maybe a Leviathan."

Angela's gaze dropped to her enormous abdomen. Her thoughts lingered on her belly, distended to grotesque proportions in the ninth month of her pregnancy, her swollen ankles, and her aching back. She had bargained for none of these nine months ago when this odyssey began.

Remus approached and placed his arms around her. She could feel the warmth of his body nestled against her back. His hands rested on the shelf that was her belly. One of the babies kicked. A sharp thrust of a tiny limb, then a flutter. A blithe smile crossed Angela's lips. These moments made the rest of her discomfort bearable.

She moved Remus' hand to the spot and waited. Seconds later, she felt another jolt in the same location. The baby's movement caused a disturbance that could be felt even through her clothing. Remus chuckled in her ear when he felt the baby's kick.

"Have you been teaching them karate?" he asked. "Or do they just take after their mother naturally?"

"Well, their father is an excellent dueler," Angela remarked. "Perhaps they take after you."

Remus' face broke into a broad grin. Angela opened the oven door. Savory smells wafted out and filled the kitchen. She popped the pan of potatoes inside and closed the door again. Remus inhaled the delectable odor. A smile of contentment appeared on his face.

"What are you cooking?" he asked. "It smells delicious."

"Leg of lamb," Angela said.

"Mmmm," he replied, inhaling deeply. "I can't remember the last time we had lamb. Where did you get that?"

"Emmett Brown slaughtered a spring lamb this morning," she replied. "He brought us a leg and a rack ribs as a present."

She walked over to the kitchen table and eased herself into a chair. Her hand massaged her sore lower back. She sighed.

"That was kind of him," Remus remarked. He sat down in the chair next to her.

"See," Angela said, shooting him a complacent look. "And you were worried for nothing."

"Well, I admit that I didn't think it a good idea to reveal our whereabouts to a stranger," Remus remarked, furrowing his brow. "We are in hiding, you know. You are a bit too trusting. You really should be more careful."

"But Emmett is a harmless old man," Angela protested. "And he lives all alone on that farm with just that old basset hound for company. I feel sorry for him. Besides, he is our nearest neighbor."

"And he comes by twice a week to visit," Remus chided with a teasing smirk, "because my wife is a pretty young thing and feeds him pie."

"I don't hear you complaining." Angela flashed him an amused smile.

"No, actually having you around all day has had an interesting effect on my waistline." Remus patted his stomach. "I don't think I've ever weighed this much."

"It's just a little empathetic weight gain." Angela leaned forward with effort and patted his knee. "It happens to all fathers-to-be. It's perfectly normal. And besides, if you ask me, I think you look better with a few extra pounds."

"You and my mother," he mused, his blue-gray eyes twinkling. "Always trying to feed me up."

Angela cast him a doting look. "How is the nursery coming along?"

"Oh, I almost forgot." He rose to his feet. "It's finished. You must come and see."

He held out his hand to Angela. She took it and pushed herself up from the seat. Remus led her out of the kitchen, through a doorway just off of the sitting room, and into the new nursery.

The new room was an addition to the cottage. The original bungalow had consisted of only three rooms. Remus had built the addition himself with the help of Angela's two brothers. Angela's eyes swept over the simple furnishings in the tiny nursery: a rocking chair, a cradle large enough to accommodate two infants, a small dresser, and a sizable mirror.

"It's lovely," Angela remarked.

"And look at this," Remus said, leading her to the cradle. "It rocks automatically. A little innovation of my own."

He touched the cradle. The wooden bed, fitted with a mattress, rocked to and fro with a gentle swaying motion. He tapped it again and the motion ceased.

"It even senses when the babies are asleep and stops," he added with a proud grin.

"That's marvelous," Angela remarked, admiring the crib.

She crossed to the rocking chair and sat down. She sighed, sinking into the padded cushions. A blissful smile crossed her lips.

"And I know that I shall enjoy this," she said.

"You have my mother to thank for that."

Then Angela eyed the mirror with an inquisitive stare. She rose from the rocker and approached the glass for a closer look. She gazed into the looking glass expecting to see her reflection. Instead the face of the mirror remained dark.

"What is this?" She flashed her husband a puzzled look.

"That's another little innovation of mine." A mysterious grin crossed Remus' face. "I took the idea from Moody and his communicating mirrors. There is another mirror just like this in the Den and both mirrors are linked. You can see into the Den through this mirror. And I can see into this room from the Den."

"That's brilliant," Angela exclaimed. "So even during your transformations, you can watch over us."

"Yes." Remus shot her a wistful glance. "And I hoped that you would be able to join me again soon. You'll be able keep an eye on the children from the Den." His voice softened. "I...I have missed you these past nine months."

"And I have missed you too," Angela whispered, taking his hand in hers. "But we agreed that it wasn't safe. And I have grown so large that I don't think I could fit through the escape door anyhow."

"Yes, I know." He gazed into her eyes. "But soon all that will change. And I had grown accustomed to your company during my monthly transformations." He stroked her cheek with a loving caress. "My vixen."

A shy smile tugged on the corners of Angela's mouth. She reached for him to pull him into an embrace. But her monstrous stomach seemed to get in the way of every approach. She sighed. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Her head rested back against his shoulder. She closed her eyes, feeling his cheek against her hair.

* * * * * * * *

A short while later, Angela and Remus sat at the kitchen table for dinner. A platter of carved roasted lamb, a tureen of oven-roasted potatoes, and a salad of spring greens graced the table. The dinner was a feast unlike any they'd had in these lean times, a rare treat.

Their finances had been stretched during these past months in hiding. Remus' meager income from his work for the Order was not nearly enough to support them both. Although they had skimped and saved as much as they could, the repairs to the house and the addition of the nursery were costly. They had been forced to dip into Remus' inheritance repeatedly to make ends meet. Their reserves were rapidly dwindling.

Even so, Remus had ensured that they always had food on the table. Angela had done her best to prepare appetizing dishes with whatever she'd had on hand. He would never complain.

Angela watched Remus take his first bite of the succulent lamb. A look of pleasure lit his face, as he savored the morsel. He tucked into the meal with obvious relish. Angela smiled. She took a forkful from her own plate. The tender lamb melted in her mouth. It was good.

She had just taken her second bite, when she felt the twinge, a sharp cramping pain. Her left hand laid the fork down beside her plate and slid to her belly. This wasn't a baby's kick. Could her labor be starting?

She hesitated, staring down at her plate. She would have loved to finish her meal, but the prospect of labor scared and distracted her. She glanced over at Remus. He had not noticed, but was happily enjoying his dinner. Should she tell him? She decided to wait. Maybe the feeling would pass.

But the cramping did not go away. Six minutes later, she had another contraction, stronger than the first. Breathe through them. Relax and just breathe. That's what Molly had taught her to do.

Remus glanced up from his plate. A look of surprise flashed across his face when he saw that she had hardly touched her food.

"What's wrong?" he inquired. "The lamb is fabulous. You need to eat. Remember you're eating for three."

Angela stared back at him, not knowing what to say. Just then, another sharp contraction hit her. A pained expression crossed her face. Her hands gripped her abdomen.

"A baby kick?" Remus asked. A crease appeared on his brow.

"No." Angela shook her head. "I think I'm going into labor."

Remus' eyes opened wide. His jaw slackened. For a minute, he just stared with a stunned expression not unlike that of a buck staring down the headlights of an oncoming car. Then he sprang to his feet, sending his chair clattering over on the floor behind him. His gaze flicked from the door to the fireplace. He had no idea what to do.

"Remus," Angela whispered, when the contraction passed. "Just relax. Molly said to time the contractions. We fetch her when they are less than five minutes apart."

"How far apart are they now?" he inquired, with a concern riddled stare.

"About six or seven minutes," she replied.

An involuntary sigh of relief escaped his lips. She could see his shoulders straighten as if some giant weight had been lifted from them. His eyes cast about for his chair. He righted it and settled himself back down at the table. His fingers fidgeted with his fork.

"Why don't you go and lie down," he suggested. "I'll take care of things here."

Angela shook her head. "Molly said that I should move about as much as possible. I'll be fine. Can I get you some dessert? There's some leftover pie."

"No, thank you," he said. "I'm not hungry anymore."

He glanced up at her, attempting his most encouraging look. But the half-hearted smile could not disguise the anxiety in those blue-gray eyes.

* * * * * * * *

Midnight that same evening found Angela and Remus in the sitting room of their cottage. Angela paced the floor with Remus by her side. Every five minutes like clockwork, she doubled over in pain, clutching his arm or a piece of furniture for support. Her hair hung in limp curls around her face, drenched with sweat. Remus looked haggard as well from hours of walking and worrying.

"Still five minutes," he said, glancing down at his watch. "We've been at five minutes for the past two hours." He looked over at Angela with a beseeching stare. "Shouldn't we just fetch Molly now?"

"You're asking me?" Angela cast him a pleading look. "I don't know. I just want this to end."

A gut-wrenching contraction hit, buckling Angela's knees. Her hand squeezed Remus' arm. Her fingers dug into his skin. She whimpered, then tried to breathe through the pain. She felt a trickle that turned to a gush of liquid streaming down her leg.

"My water just broke," she cried. Another stronger contraction seized her. "Get Molly now. Go."

Remus sprinted for the door, grabbed his cloak, and disappeared out into the night air. He reappeared through the doorway seconds later, looking disheveled and disoriented. His wand rose as he prepared to Disapparate, but then lowered just as abruptly.

"R-right then," he stammered. "F-floo Network might be safer." He strode to the fireplace, threw a handful of green powder into the hearth, and stepped inside. "Molly," he sputtered, inhaling a mouthful of soot.

Angela watched his disappearance in a flash of emerald flames and sparks. She shook her head. She imagined the look of surprise on the occupant's faces, when her poor husband stepped out of the wrong hearth. She would have found the episode amusing had she not been in such agony.

Remus returned through the Floo Network. Ash and soot blackened his face. He shot Angela a quizzical look.

"The Burrow," Angela said with a nod.

"The Burrow," he repeated, disappearing in another flash of green.

Moments later, three figures stepped back out of the fireplace into the parlor of the Lupin home: Molly and Arthur Weasley and a shaken Remus Lupin. Molly bustled over to Angela's side.

"Let's have a look at you, dear," Molly said, eyeing Angela. Then she turned to her husband. "Arthur, why don't you take Remus into the kitchen. Put some water on to boil."

Arthur took hold of Remus' arm to lead him away. Just then, another contraction hit. Angela groaned and doubled over again. She felt Molly's arm around her to support her. Remus shook loose from Arthur's grasp and strode to Angela's side.

"No," he insisted. "I'm not leaving."

"Mate," Arthur reasoned. "Believe me, you don't want to hang around for this. You've done your part. When Bill was born, Molly practically bit my head off. She told me that she'd never let me near her again."

Remus' mouth fell agape. He glanced from Arthur to Molly. "But you have seven children."

"Women say a lot of things we don't mean in the heat of childbirth," Molly explained, blushing. She waved him away. "You've done a fine job. I'll take over from here."

Remus looked from Molly to his wife. Angela could see the uncertainty in his eyes. She herself was quite frightened now and wanted him to stay. As if reading her thoughts, he turned toward Molly, his jaw set with determination.

"I'll stay," he said.

"All right then," Molly replied. "Arthur, put a kettle on. Remus, help me get Angela into the bedroom and out of these wet clothes."

Once settled in the bedroom, Angela lay on her side on the bed, her body propped up with pillows. Remus sat on the bed behind her, applying counter pressure to her aching lower back. Contractions racked her body with increasing frequency and intensity. What was taking Molly so long? When would these children be born?

Angela's wide eyes were riveted on Molly and her black bag. Molly's hands fished in the satchel and extracted several mysterious objects. She waved these instruments over Angela's stomach, then read them with a studied gaze. The devices whizzed and whirred. Angela had no idea what they were for and Molly offered no explanation.

Angela's thoughts wandered to the Muggle books on childbirth that she had read. She shuddered at the memory of the chapters on needles, epidurals, and complications. The chapter describing a brutal procedure in which a woman's abdomen was cut open to extract her babies sent tremors of fear down her spine. Surely, nothing that horrific would be required.

"Everything looks fine, dear." Molly put the last instrument on the table with a satisfied smile. "The babies are healthy. The first child is presenting in the proper position. You're fully dilated. You're ready for the delivery."

As Angela watched, Molly waved her wand. The lights in the room dimmed to a soft glow. Molly uttered another incantation and tapped Angela's head. She felt a calming sensation filter down through her body, as all of her muscles relaxed. The cramping pain that coursed through her abdomen just moments before was replaced by a vague numbness. What a relief. Why couldn't Molly have done that before?

"What happens now?" Angela queried, her feelings of anxiety resurfacing. "What is the boiling water for?"

"What boiling water, dear?" Molly asked, with a puzzled look.

"You asked Arthur to boil water," Remus rejoined.

"Oh, that's for tea," Molly replied with a motherly smile. "It gives him something constructive to do while he's waiting."

Angela sighed with relief and giggled.

"Remus, would you kindly fetch us a couple of clean towels," Molly asked. As soon as he had left the room, she turned back to Angela. "Now when I tell you, I want you to bear down and push. Ready. Now."

Angela took a deep breath and pushed with all her might. Even through the charm, she could feel the head burrowing down through her body like a battering ram. The magical alarm clock ticked and whirred on the nightstand. Several minutes later, the alarm went off with a sonorous tinkling sound, blending with the cry of a newborn infant. A wriggling, wet baby boy squirmed on the bed linens.

Remus burst back into the room, two towels in his hands. He ran to the bed, dropped the towels onto the coverlet, and just stared down at the child. Molly gathered the infant in a towel, patted it dry with a gentle hand, and placed the wriggling, screaming bundle into Remus' hands.

He held the child out away from his body, as if it was a fragile thing that he was afraid to break. He stared at his son, transfixed. His blue-gray eyes glistened with moisture. A look of wonder washed over his face.

"Would you look at that," he whispered in a hushed tone that betrayed his awe.

Angela watched him. A radiant smile crossed her lips. Remus handed her the child. She cuddled it to her breast and stared into the eyes of her son for the first time. The little red face screwed up in a howling cry.

"Isn't he beautiful?" she said, staring in amazement at the tiny wrinkled fingers and toes.

Remus settled himself on the bed beside her with his back against the propped up pillows. He put his arm around Angela. His hand stroked the downy head of the child.

"Hush little pup," he soothed.

Angela looked up to see Molly standing at the bedside. Molly held a ticker tape in her hand from one of the whirring instruments. "A perfectly healthy baby boy," she announced with a proud smile. "Sixteen inches. Five pounds, six ounces. Congratulations."

A silver sphere balanced on the nightstand emitted a high-pitched whistle, a piercing alarm. Molly's eyes flicked to the instrument. She turned to Angela with a concerned look.

"It's time for the second," she muttered. "And he's breach. We've got to get him turned round."

Angela handed the baby to back Remus. He took the child in his arms, but he stared back at his wife with a helpless, troubled look. Angela knew that her face must have looked the same. As her concern increased, she felt the tension in her body battling against the Calming Charm. Pain crept up through her limbs.

"Just relax," Molly coaxed.

She waved her wand in slow hypnotic circles over Angela's abdomen and muttered something under her breath. The silver sphere kept up its shrill warning. Angela tried to relax. She could feel movement within her belly, a series of flutters and kicks. The child was turning itself around.

The sphere fell silent. Angela let out a sigh of relief. Minutes later, she gave birth to her second son, another healthy baby boy.

* * * * * * * *

Just before dawn, the Lupin cottage was still abuzz with activity. Angela, dressed in her nightgown and propped up with pillows, lay in her bed. Remus' parents and her own mother were gathered in the bedroom around her. Emma Lupin and her mother each cuddled a sleeping grandson.

"Aren't they darling?" Emma cooed.

"Just adorable," Mrs. Hawkins bubbled. "Another set of identical twins to add to the family tree."

"Marvelous. Just marvelous," Julius Lupin hummed, bouncing on his heels. His chest puffed out with pride. "So what have you decided to name the little tykes?"

"This one's James Remus," Remus said. His hand reached for the little bundle in his mother's arms and stroked the soft cheek. "He was the first one born." He turned to the child in his mother-in-law's arms. He chuckled. "And this little trouble maker is Sirius Evan."

The child stirred in the blankets. He shot out a little fist and yawned. The tiny mouth jutted out in a pout. Mrs. Hawkins uttered a hushing sound and rocked the baby in her arms. The infant drifted back off to sleep.

"Well, they aren't the classical names I'd hoped for," Julius commented, the disappointment evident in his voice. "But naming them for your friends is a rather nice gesture." A broad grin was back on his face. "And I couldn't be prouder."

After a very long and eventful day, Angela was exhausted. As happy as she was to see her family, sleep was what she really desired now. She closed her leaden eyelids, unable to keep them open a second longer. Thus Angela fell asleep with visions of her family surrounding her and her two beautiful children resting in their care.