The Mating Game

Chapter Nineteen

Awards

On the lawn outside of the front door of Hogwarts castle, three young boys chased a ball, screaming loudly. One, short and stocky but obviously well-coordinated for his age, managed to kick the ball from between his two playmates and deftly maneuvered it in the direction of a large elm tree. His curly black hair seemed to be sticking straight up as he yelled, "I win, Mummy! I win!"

"Very nice, Jason," said Angelina Weasley, as she extracted a leaf from her daughter Janice’s mouth.

Beside her, Hermione Snape watched the two other boys running, panting, towards the tree. "Poor Theo," she remarked, watching the smaller of the two. "I hope he doesn’t ever want to be an athlete." Theo, now two and a half, was average in height but extremely slender. Leo Dumbledore was also rather thin but towered over Theodore height-wise.

As she had expected, Leo had grown up to be best friends with her son. They were already inseparable. The natural consequence was that she now watched Leo for Minerva and Albus several hours a week. In exchange, one of Leo’s parents watched Theodore for her when she taught.

The three boys collapsed in the shade of the tree and were soon busy trying to catch ants.

"Just think, Hermione," said Angelina. "Three more weeks and it will all be over. I already have my required two children, and soon I’ll have my bachelor’s degree as well.

Hermione patted her bulging midriff. "I’d better be done in three weeks," she said with a sigh. "Theo was a bit late, but I’m hoping this one will be early."

"In any case, you’ll be done soon," said Angelina cheerily. She leaned over suddenly and grabbed a stick from Janice’s clenched fist. Stroking her daughter’s frizzy red hair she added, "I’d forgotten how much trouble this age can be. But I’m glad we we have Janice. If nothing else, we got a bigger house out of the bargain."

The Weasley home, formerly the dwelling of Hagrid, had been enlarged the previous summer. It was now a full-fledged cottage, with a living area and master bedroom downstairs and two small attic bedrooms upstairs.

"Hold on a moment. You say you’ll be done. Don’t you want to get a master’s degree?" inquired Hermione.

"Nope. I’m glad to get this over with. No more school for me!"

Hermione frowned. "I wish they offered doctorates." They didn’t, of course, even if you attended the on-site university. Doctorates were a Muggle invention. That didn’t keep her from feeling any less disappointed, though.

***

Standing in front of the mirror, Hermione tugged her maternity robes this way and that, trying in vain to look less pregnant than she actually was.

"Why aren’t you out of there yet?" she demanded of her baby grumpily.

"Obviously he’s inherited his mother’s stubbornness," smirked her husband, who had appeared in the doorway.

"Or his father’s," she retorted. "I’m starting to believe he’s stuck in there. More than a week overdue! I wish witches would learn to induce birth without affecting a baby’s magic!"

"Since that day has not arrived, however, you will just have to wait until Sextus Maximus decides to make an appearance," said Severus. "I seem to recall my mother telling me that I was born two and a half weeks after my due date."

"Thanks," she grumbled. "I really needed to hear that right now." Stretching and rubbing her back, she groaned miserably. "I am so uncomfortable."

"Well," her husband replied, "If you want to look on the bright side of things…"

"Which you so commonly do," Hermione interrupted sarcastically.

"At least you won’t have to go through the ceremony while listening to your newborn wailing at the back of the room."

"Very true. Well, let’s get up there and get it over with."

"Listen to you. You’ve been looking forward to this for years, and now you want to ‘get it over with’."

"Theoretically speaking, I already have my master’s degree. I just don’t have the certificate yet."

"Yes, dear," said Severus in that frustrating tone which meant that he didn’t agree but also didn’t want to start an argument. He leaned down and scooped up Theo.

In the Great Hall, Hermione sat between Severus and her mother, listening to the head of Oxford College droning on and on. There were twelve students here receiving degrees; in addition to Angelina and herself, there were ten residents of Hogsmeade who had enrolled in the distance learning program. She shifted this way and that on the wooden chair, trying to make herself comfortable.

"Mummy, Mummy, I sit on lap?" inquired Theo loudly. He managed to time his question so that it fell during a pause in the speech. His little voice seemed to fill the Great Hall, and everyone turned to look at them.

"Hush, Theo," she frowned. "And no, you may not. Mummy doesn’t have much of a lap any more. Play with your cars."

Theo, who was currently sitting on the stone floor with some Matchbox cars that his grandmother had brought him, pouted at his mother.

"I’ll hold you," said Severus quietly. "Come to Daddy." Once settled, Theo began happily pushing the car up and down his father’s arms and chest while making motoring noises. Severus gave him a withering glare, which was ignored.

Hermione leaned forward, rubbing her back irritably. At least I won’t be here much longer, she thought.

"And now, the candidate for master’s degree," the distinguished voice of Francis Fawcett boomed. Hermione rose from her chair and waddled up to the dais, where she was presented with her diploma and acknowledged with a round of applause.

At last the ceremony was over. "Let’s get back to our rooms. You don’t look so well," whispered Severus.

"I’ve never felt so awful in my life," said Hermione with a moan. "Take Theo on down; I’ll be there in a little bit. I need to stop by the restroom first—there’s no way I can make it all the way down to the dungeons."

In the women’s toilet next to the Great Hall, she slammed the door of the nearest stall shut, hurriedly pulled down her underwear, and sat heavily down. As her bladder began to empty itself, she sighed with relief. "How am I supposed to last any longer like this? I can hardly go an hour without visiting the loo," she said to the empty bathroom around her.

Suddenly she caught sight of the crotch of her voluminous maternity knickers. Seeing the streaks of red there, she began to laugh hilariously. "Oh, Merlin! I thought I was just a fat uncomfortable cow! All this time, I’ve been in labor!"

***

Eight hours later, Hermione collapsed from a sitting position into the stack of pillows behind her. Severus wiped her brow tenderly. "Aren’t you glad it’s over, love?" he asked softly.

She said nothing, but watched as Madame Pomfrey wrapped the flailing infant in magically warmed blankets and handed the little bundle to her. "Hello, sweet thing," she whispered hoarsely.

"Have a drink, dear," said the mediwitch, giving her a glass of water. "Your voice is worn out from all the yelling."

Hermione handed her child to her husband and accepted the water gratefully. When she turned to look at her baby again, she found Severus gingerly touching a tiny hand that somehow had managed to claw its way out of the swaddling blankets. "I’d forgotten how small they start out," he said quietly.

"You aren’t disappointed that it’s another boy?" she asked slowly. They hadn’t performed the gender determination charm this time around, so the sex of the baby had been a surprise.

"How could I be disappointed with this little princeling?" whispered Severus. "Look at him. He’s so strong and determined. He’s going to be a conqueror. He needs a conqueror’s name. Let’s see…Augustus? No. That sounds too old for a little tyke like this. Antony? Julius?"

"How about William?" suggested Hermione tentatively.

Severus’s dark eyes flashed with excitement. "William the Conqueror it is," he said. He bowed his head and kissed little William on the tip of his unusually large nose.