Making Mistakes

little_bird

Story Summary:
The events leading to the birth of Albus Severus Potter.

Chapter 12 - The Bottom Falls Out

Posted:
11/24/2008
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1,681


George got up. He couldn't stand to just sit and wait anymore. Katie was curled up in her chair, sound asleep, and the boys were in the travel cot. Jacob was asleep, but Fred was still fighting it, blinking slowly at his stuffed dragon. George began to pace around the room. Percy had come back an hour ago, with word that Shacklebolt was going to fetch Harry. George glanced around the waiting area. Half an hour earlier, Shanti had come out to speak with Bronwyn and Bronwyn hurried through those damned double doors with Shanti. George was pretty sure there was some sort of rule about Healers treating family members, but considering she was one of the Healers at the dragon reservation where Charlie worked, he figured she had to have treated Charlie sometimes. Maybe that's different, he thought.

George kept his eyes trained on the doors, willing one of them to come out and say Ginny was fine, she wasn't really in labor, and everybody could go home. George remembered the near-daily terror he had lived in that Katie would deliver early. He had read everything he could get his hands on about a multiple pregnancy and the knowledge of what could go wrong with a preterm birth sent shivers down his spine.

George paced by Arthur, who sat on a sofa, James sleepily sucking his thumb next to him. James' dark head lay in his grandfather's lap, and his eyes drifted shut, only to fly wide open a few seconds later. Arthur met George's eyes and lifted an inquiring eyebrow. George just shrugged, tilting his head toward the double doors. Arthur nodded and George resumed his restless pacing.

The doors opened with a soft creak, and Bronwyn, Molly, and Shanti emerged and gathered around Arthur. George doubled back, feeling a bit guilty at eavesdropping, but Ginny was his baby sister, and he was going to do whatever he could to make sure she was all right. Arthur's stern lecture before his fourth year echoed in his mind. She's your baby sister, and you will look out for her. It's your responsibility to take care of her. Every time George remembered that conversation, he burned with shame that he and Fred hadn't done a better job that year. Actually, we didn't do any sort of job with it, he thought guiltily.

George caught snatches of their conversation. 'Baby's ready to come out.' 'She won't...' 'Maybe we should...' George looked at the doors thoughtfully. If there's ever a time to make up for not being a better brother, now is it. He looked over his shoulder, and made his way to the doors, slipping through them. George swiftly glanced at the name tags on the doors, and found the one labeled 'Ginny Potter'. He opened the door and sidled inside the room.

*****

Shanti looked at Ginny. 'It's time, Ginny.'

'No.' Ginny rolled over to her side and pressed her knees together. 'It's too early.' -And Harry's not here...

'Regardless, he's coming now, whether you think it's time or not.' Shanti let one of her hands rest on Ginny's ankles.

'No,' Ginny repeated, closing her eyes. 'I'm going to wait for Harry.'

Shanti and Bronwyn exchanged worried looks. If Ginny didn't deliver the baby soon, they were going to have to take matters into their own hands and force a potion down her throat, rendering her unconscious and deliver the baby. Molly smoothed a wet cloth over Ginny's face. 'Ginny, please be reasonable,' she murmured. 'This isn't good for the baby.'

'No.'

Shanti, Bronwyn, and Molly left the room, and went to speak to Arthur. In light of Harry's absence, Molly and Arthur would be able to grant Shanti permission for any medical interventions.

Arthur listened to Shanti's urgent voice. He didn't hear what she was saying exactly, but he knew that calm, steady voice was telling him his only daughter, and her child, were in danger. Arthur looked down at James. He had finally fallen asleep. Arthur gently rubbed James' back, feeling the deep, even breaths of his grandson's slumber. He looked up at Molly, his pained blue eyes, meeting her anxious brown ones. 'Do what you need to do,' he pronounced carefully. Their insistent conversation flowed over him. Arthur's gaze dropped back to James.

None of them noticed George slip through the double doors and head for Ginny's room.

*****

Ron held Rose in her sling, trying not to overhear the strident whispers by his parents. When he and Ginny were children, they were each other's mate. He was just eighteen months older than Ginny. They often found themselves thrown together - too young to play with the twins. Ron had frequently found Ginny a nuisance, but he didn't realize how entwined she was in his life until she was taken to the Chamber his second year. Ron shivered slightly at the memory.

He felt something bump his chest and looked down. Rose was trying to root through his shirt, her head turned to his chest, rosebud lips smacking. 'Hungry are you?' Ron turned his head to look at Hermione. She had gone to sleep and he didn't want to wake her. He carefully leaned down toward the bag on the floor at his feet, and flipped it open. A stash of bottles, with Freezing charms on them, waited in an insulated pocket. Ron took one out and closed the bag. His wand was in the pocket on the side. He pulled it out and aimed a Warming charm at the bottle. Ron picked up the bottle and awkwardly sprinkled a few drops on the inside of his wrist. It seemed all right, so he licked the drops from his wrist and maneuvered the bottle's nipple into Rose's mouth. 'There you go, Rose-bud.'

'Did you just lick your wrist?' Charlie's question carried tones of revulsion.

'It's just breast milk,' Ron replied indifferently. He glanced up at Charlie. 'Like you never tried it,' he scoffed.

'Oh... Uh...' Charlie went beet red under his freckles.

Ron grinned and turned his attention back to his daughter. He watched her for a few minutes, before his thoughts sobered. Ginny wasn't usually irrational like this. He worried that if Harry didn't arrive soon, he might be confronted with an even bigger mess than he'd left behind on his mission.

*****

Charlie fidgeted in his chair. Patience was not a Weasley virtue. Especially not with him. He remembered the interminable hours of Isabella's birth. After the first twelve, they had gone to the small infirmary on the reservation. Jack Kinneally, one of the other Healers, had sent them down to London. The infirmary didn't handle complicated childbirths, and Jack had been concerned enough to make Charlie and Bronwyn Floo to St. Mungo's. By then, it was nearly four in the morning, and the first thing they did was give Bronwyn something to ease the pain so she could sleep.

It took thirty hours for Isabella to be born.

Afterwards, Charlie had watched Bronwyn sleep, clutching Isabella in his arms. He was certain Isabella would be their only child. He didn't want to put her in that kind of pain again. He didn't want to put himself through that kind of pain again. It had been emotionally agonizing to watch Bronwyn struggle to give birth. He was afraid he might lose her the next time. And after so many years of drifting apart from his family, he'd finally found a niche in this world for himself with Bronwyn.

Charlie sighed and shifted in the chair. A fresh wave of guilt washed over him. He'd left England for Romania before Ginny and Ron even started school. He'd been away most of their lives, either at school or in Romania. Charlie had left school early just to be less of a burden on his parents, but deep down, he knew he had almost fled to Romania. He could have done the same kind of internship in Wales and been closer to home, but he had longed to be seen as separate from everyone else. So Romania it was.

He wondered if Bill felt the same way. After all, he'd gone even further away to Egypt as soon as he finished school. Bill had left for school when Ginny was just a few weeks old, so really, Charlie wondered, how well did either of them know Ginny?

*****

Bill watched Charlie fidget restlessly in his seat. He methodically cracked his knuckles, bending and stretching the fingers until they popped. Bill didn't feel guilt for being away from his family for so long. On the contrary, he felt a wave of anger at Harry. Bill didn't understand how Harry could have left Ginny alone and pregnant like he did. That first lunch, when Arthur told them Harry was on a mission; Bill had bit his lip and kept his comments to himself. He'd seen the way Ginny's face had paled when Charlie opened his big mouth and asked the question everybody was thinking, but smart enough not to verbalize.

Bill hadn't said anything until he and Fleur had gone home to Shell Cottage and put Victoire and Madeline to bed. The anger that had built up all day bubbled over as he squeezed toothpaste on his toothbrush. It seemed like half the tube squirted out into the sink. Fleur merely raised a silvery brow, and silently scraped some of the excess toothpaste onto her own toothbrush. Bill, for his part, had brushed his teeth so hard, his gums bled. He yanked off his clothes and threw them into the basket in the corner of their bedroom, flopping onto the bed with a huff, tossing to find a comfortable position in his building rage. Fleur had followed him into bed, at a more sedate pace. 'How can he just leave like that?' Bill hissed.

'Eet is part of his job.'

'But -'

Fleur sat up and laid a hand over Bill's mouth. 'Ginny knew what she was getting into when she married him. She knew somezing like zis would happen one day.'

Bill closed a hand around Fleur's wrist, removing her hand. 'She didn't look like she was fine with it,' he protested.

Fleur considered what he told her. 'Maybe so,' she agreed. 'But just because she doesn't like somezing doesn't mean she hasn't accepted it, no?'

Bill realized his wife was right, and slumped into the pillows. 'She's too young to be a widow,' he muttered. Fleur had had enough. She got out of bed and marched to the door. 'Where are you going?' he asked.

'Ginny is not a leetle girl! Or a bébé,' she said, whirling around to face the bed. 'I'm going to make some tea.'

Bill shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memory. He looked over at Fleur, waiting serenely. He resumed his restless knuckle-popping and didn't see George slip into the corridor leading to Ginny.

*****

Percy sat ramrod straight in his chair. He straightened his glasses, in what was becoming a nervous tic. He had been doing it far too frequently lately. Percy sighed irritably as he halted the progress of his hand through his hair. He pulled his fingers from his disordered hair and let the hand drop into his lap.

He knew when Arthur had come to speak to him he would ask him to go to Shacklebolt. He also knew that Arthur had deliberately used the word "sister". It played on the vestiges of guilt Percy still carried from the end of the war and how he had abandoned his family for three years. It forced Percy to see his father in a whole new light. He never knew his kindly father could be so crafty.

Percy let his hand drag through his hair once more.

He would have gone to Shacklebolt, even if Arthur hadn't asked.

Because this was partially his fault. If he hadn't said anything to Harry, or denied he received the notes, in all likelihood, Harry would be here with Ginny.

*****

George closed the door and leaned against it. Ginny lay on her side, her back to the door. He watched Ginny for a moment as a contraction rippled through her. Can I do this? It's what Fred would have done. He would have gone for the jugular, if for nothing more than to get Gin all wound up. George took a deep breath. 'You know, Gin, I used to watch you during the war. When we hid at Auntie Muriel's. You wrote letters, then burned them. They were to Harry, weren't they? Because why would you burn letters to Ron or Hermione?' Ginny nodded. 'I always marveled at you. How strong you were. How you never gave in.' George had made his way over to the bed. He picked up the cloth draped over the lip of a basin filled with cool water and dipped the cloth in the water. He wrung it out and sat on the edge of the bed, facing Ginny. She gasped in pain, and panted while another contraction gripped her mercilessly. 'You've never let me down, Gin.' George ran the cloth over Ginny's face and neck. Her dark brown eyes gazed up at him, tears collecting in the corners. 'Until now.' Ginny's eyes widened in shock. 'There's a difference between being strong and stubborn, and right now you're just being stubborn. Family trait, I know.' His hand wrapped around hers, and he guided her through the next contraction. 'This baby, it's depending on you to do the right thing. And the right thing for you - and the baby - is to get it out. On your terms, before they decide to do it for you.'

Ginny struggled to sit up, and George gripped her arms to help. -Bulls-eye, he thought. Ginny hated for other people to make decisions for her.

The door opened and Shanti, Bronwyn, and Molly stood clustered in the door. They hadn't seen George leave the waiting area. 'All right,' Ginny said hoarsely. 'Let's do this,' she added tiredly.

George slid off the bed to go back to the waiting area, but Ginny grabbed his hands. 'No! George! Don't leave me...'

George looked up at his mother, and Molly nodded. He bit his lip and climbed back on the bed behind Ginny. 'Okay, Gin, I won't go anywhere until it's done.'

It was a very surreal experience for George. His world narrowed down to Ginny and her baby. It didn't take long for Ginny to deliver the baby. 'It's a boy,' Shanti breathed.

Ginny turned her face into George's shoulder and burst into tears.

***** 'Ginny.' It was a statement, more than a greeting.

'Go away.' Ginny didn't bother to look up. She stared at the baby lying in a small cot, her palm cupped around the tiny head, covered with sparse black fuzz.

'Ginny, please.' Harry leaned against the doorway, ready to drop with weariness.

'I don't want you in here right now,' Ginny spat as softly as she could. She was still sore from the birth. It hadn't been nearly as long as James', but the emotional turmoil hadn't helped.

Harry said nothing, but pushed himself off the wall and went into Ginny's room. He dropped into the chair next to Ginny's bed. He raked his hands through his hair, nearly pulling handfuls of it out in frustration. He stretched his aching feet out in front of him, and leaned back, resting his head on the back of the chair, letting his eyes close.

The sound of the door opening made him crack open an eyelid and he saw Ginny standing in the doorway. He lifted his head and looked at her. She looks like hell, he thought. She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes, and her normally vivid hair seemed dull.

'Where were you?' she asked softly.

'I can't tell you,' he said. He was normally quite open with her regarding his missions, but he had been closemouthed with this one.

'Why not?' Ginny slowly walked to the bed, and gingerly slid into it, pulling the bedclothes over her body.

'To protect you,' he explained. It was a conversation he could recite by rote; they'd had it so much the past few months. Harry got to his feet and came to stand at the foot of the bed.

Ginny glared at him. 'I don't want you to protect me!' she shouted.

'Don't shout at me!' Harry shouted back, his eyes blazing.

'Well, don't shout at me, either!' Ginny yelled, looking for her wand. It wasn't on the night table and she wasn't even sure she remembered to bring it with her. She saw the handle of Harry's wand sticking out of his pocket, and made to lunge for it, wincing at the pain.

Harry's Auror-trained reflexes kicked in, in spite of the exhaustion, and his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, fingers closing firmly around it. 'Don't even think about it,' he warned, too tired to even try to be diplomatic. 'No wands,' he said, backing as far away as he could before he dropped Ginny's wrist. He backed to a table in the farthest corner of the room, and pulled his wand from his pocket and made a show of dropping it with a clatter on the table's surface.

He walked back to Ginny. 'I didn't want you to be a target.'

'I can take care of myself,' she argued. 'We had this bloody discussion eight years ago.'

'It's different now, Gin.'

'Don't call me that! You do not get to call me that right now!'

'All right, all right,' Harry said soothingly. 'But it is different. It's not just you anymore. It's Teddy. And James. And...' Harry trailed off. 'We never decided on a name for him, did we?'

'No.' Ginny looked down at the blanket.

'Gin...ny,' Harry began, correcting himself. 'Do you remember why Hermione did what she did with her parents during the war?'

'Of course I do,' she huffed impatiently.

'If I told you everything, if they took you, they could strip your memory for what I've told you. It's worse than rape to have someone muck in your head like that.' Harry started to sit on the edge of the bed, then changed his mind, and went back to the chair. 'I just can't tell you.' He held up a hand as Ginny started to protest. 'Yet,' he clarified.

'When?' she demanded.

'When it's safe.' Harry wanted to touch her so badly. 'I can't put you at risk, Ginny. If something were to happen to me, you're all they have left.'

He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. 'Sometimes, when Teddy was a baby, when I couldn't sleep, I'd go watch him sleep. And sometimes, I'd think about how selfish I thought Tonks was, going to the battle like that. Leaving a newborn baby like that. Then, I'd feel guilty for thinking that.' Harry pressed his thumbs into the ridge of his skull under his eyebrows, trying to ease the headache that lurked behind his eyes.

He looked at Ginny, her outline blurred and fuzzy without his glasses. 'I don't want to leave James or the little one alone like that.' He shoved his glasses back on his nose. 'I'm so sorry, Ginny. I didn't want to miss it. But neither of us knew he'd be early like this. This whole case was supposed to be wrapped up before he was born.'

Ginny stared stonily at her hands. They were clenched in her lap. 'It's not the same thing,' she pointed out. 'I'm your wife, damn it. You can't just keep me in the dark like this. I didn't even know how to get a message to you.' She slid down and turned onto her side, her back to Harry.

'Ginny, please...'

'Go home. Go back to work. Just go.'

Harry froze. 'Ginny?'

'Not now, Harry,' she sighed, blinking back tears.

Harry stumbled out of the room, his feet automatically taking him to the room where the baby slept. He stood over the cot, watching his son. 'I think I really screwed this one up,' he told the baby. Harry reached over the slats of the cot, and stroked the baby's tiny cheek with a shaking forefinger, lost in staring at him. While James' birth had been a joyful event, this little one's was rapidly turning into something out of the imagination of that poet he had studied in primary school. Shakes... Shakes-something. He couldn't remember.

'Would you like to hold him?' Shanti's voice intruded into his thoughts. It wasn't unwelcome.

'I can do that?'

'Of course you can.' Shanti lifted the baby from the cot, and motioned for Harry to sit in a rocking chair Harry hadn't noticed. She carefully laid the baby in Harry's arms. 'Did you have a name for him? Ginny wouldn't say.'

Harry shook his head. 'Not yet.' He looked up at Shanti. 'Will he be all right? The baby?'

Shanti leaned against the wall next to the cot. 'He's early, but six weeks is not the end of the world. Little Man Potter here made it through the first night with no major issues. The major worry this early is his lung development, but so far, he seems all right. The next few weeks we'll have to keep a close eye on him. We won't let him leave until he's gaining weight at a good pace. He's a touch over four pounds now.'

'I have a week. They gave me a week, then I have to go back to - ' Harry bit off the end of the sentence. 'I have a week,' he repeated.

******

Ron peered into the twilight darkness of the room. Harry had shown up last night, two hours after the baby had been born, causing quite a stir in the waiting area. He was much thinner than he had been a month ago, and dark shadows smudged the skin under his eyes. 'Harry?'

'Yeah?' Harry's eyes didn't leave the form of his sleeping son, counting the number of times his chest rose and fell with each breath.

'Mum, she sent some dinner for you.'

'Thanks,' Harry said listlessly.

'I'm supposed to stay and watch you eat it,' Ron informed him.

'I'm not hungry.'

Ron pondered the plate of food in his hands. 'How 'bout you eat three bites of anything, and I can say you ate it and won't have to lie to Mum?'

'Whatever.' Harry held out a hand for the plate, and eyed the food piled on it. He poked at it with the fork Ron handed him, and managed to choke down a roast potato. 'Was that three bites, would you say?'

'Good enough for me.' Ron pointed his wand at the plate. 'Evanesco.' The remains of the dinner vanished. He sat in a chair, and watched Harry sway in the rocking chair by the cot. 'Where were you?'

'I can't tell you.'

'Can't or won't?' Ron asked pointedly.

'Both.'

'They almost had to sedate Ginny.'

'Why?' Harry tore his unblinking gaze from his son and frowned at Ron.

'She didn't...' Ron whispered uncomfortably. 'Because you weren't here.' Ron transferred his gaze to the toes of his shoes. 'She didn't want to do it without you. Mum said,' Ron swallowed. 'Mum said Shanti was afraid she would lose him.'

Harry bit his lip, but didn't say anything. He resumed counting each breath the baby took.

'Is it worth it?' Ron's quiet question broke into Harry's mindless counting. 'Being an Auror? Is it worth this?'

Harry sighed and stood up, stretching. He bent over the cot, and carefully lifted the baby into his arms. He took his seat in the rocking chair, cradling the baby to his chest. He looked down at the miniature face, creased in sleep. 'Yes. So he won't have to live the way we did.'

'Is it worth your marriage?'

'No,' Harry replied in a low voice. 'If she asked, I'd give it up.'