The Intentional Accident

Michael never told Sirius about the encounter with Scott Finnigan. Barely three days after their scuffle, Michael found himself on his broom, playing for the League Cup in front of thousands of people. The roar of the crowd was deafening, making it virtually impossible to hear the team captain's instructions. Michael was determined to win this game, if not for the team, or the supporters, then for the little one he was expecting any day now.

Before leaving for the Final, Michael had brought Sirius an authorised crystal orb for him to watch the game on. Alone in their cottage, Sirius sat in the brown armchair holding the orb in his hands. He regretted not being able to go to the match, though the reason why was obvious. The score was level at the moment, Puddlemere United were being given a run for their money. Even though each shot that got past Michael cut through Sirius' heart, deep down he wanted the game to be over, won or lost. The sooner the match was over, the sooner Michael would come home. None of his matches so far this year had exceeded a few hours, but Quidditch games could go on for weeks.

Keeping this in mind, Sirius continued to watch the orb. The Quaffle had just been caught by one of the Puddlemere Chasers when Sirius felt a sudden, sharp pain in his lower torso. It caused him to grab his protruding stomach and send the orb rolling to the floor. The fact that it was time was clear in Sirius' mind, yet he was alone. A perfect time to go into labour.

The panic and pain gripped him in perfect unison. He knew he had to find the two way mirror Agatha had given him at the wedding, but that seemed so long ago now. He had forgotten where he put it. He looked around frantically to see if it was in sight when he felt another contraction. It hadn't been long since the first one, but Healing training had taught him that male labour was completely different to normal labour.

Grimacing, he took firm hold of the armrest and heaved himself up. After establishing an uneasy balance, he staggered over to the set of drawers at the other end of the room. Upon reaching it, he began pulling the drawers out at random in a desperate bid to find the mirror. He pulled one drawer out too quickly and it came crashing down to the floor. He let out a cry as he felt another contraction. At the same time his hand shot out to find something to grip, what it found was a vase, which he knocked to the floor, shattering it.

Tears of anguish and desperation trickled down from his eyes. He tried hard to remember where he put the mirror when it hit him, the drawer of his bedside table. That was where he put it after the wedding, so that he would remember where it was. A fat lot of good it did him when push came to shove. Speaking of pushing, he had to fight off the urge to do so as he made his way to the bedroom. After wrenching the door open, he staggered towards his side of the double bed, which was the closer side. Before he could reach it, an especially sharp contraction brought him to his knees. He was close to buckling completely, but he was even closer to the drawer. Pulling it out directly, he groped around inside until his fingers felt the smooth, cool surface of the mirror.

Sitting against the side of the bed, Sirius looked into the square mirror. His breathing was heavy, but he managed to cry out,

"Agatha!" Within seconds, the wizened features of Agatha O'Hare appeared in the mirror, looking directly at him. "Agatha ...I ..."

"I'm on my way," stated Agatha before disappearing from sight. The mirror slid from Sirius' grip to the carpet. He was going to be stuck on the floor until Agatha arrived. Another contraction caused him to let out a terrible cry. As it died down, he suddenly heard rushed footsteps in the living room. Perhaps Agatha had arrived quicker than expected. The face that appeared in the doorway, however, was not that of Agatha, but of Ron Weasley, followed closely by his dear wife, Hermione. Seeing Sirius squatted on the floor and clutching his stomach, they both dashed to his side.

"You okay, Sirius?" asked Ron rather stupidly.

"Oh yeah, fine and dandy," growled Sirius through gritted teeth. "It's just that this baby is trying to turn me inside out!" Nothing like childbirth to bring out grim sarcasm in a person. Hermione and Ron each took an arm and helped Sirius up onto the bed, turning him so that he could lie back properly. A sudden roar from the fireplace announced Agatha's timely arrival.

"Is there anything I can do?" asked Ron, feeling distinctly like a fish out of water.

"Michael ..." gasped Sirius through short breaths.

"Yes, of course, I'll go get him." Ron shot up from the bed and dashed out the door. Passing Agatha and another Healer, he soon disappeared in a flash of green fire. Back in the bedroom, Sirius felt just like the fireplace; hot.

"You're going to have to calm down, Sirius. You're going to be here for a while," said Hermione as the sweat poured down her nephew's cheeks. She stroked his hair back from his forehead. Both were almost soaked.

"It hurts," he moaned.

"I know, sweetheart," she said soothingly. As she gripped his hand in hers, Patrick, the Puddlemere United Seeker, gripped the Golden Snitch.

They had won.