Chapter Text
An Unexpected Complication
Nothing worthwhile is without complications. ~ Nora Roberts
Hermione’s Point Of View.
1st March 1998
The pain was like nothing she had ever felt. A burning fire that ripped its way through her insides. Disappearing without warning.
When the pain eased the memory of it remained ingrained in her flesh, as though it was imprinted on her very being. She would have been inconsolable in any other situation, but now was not the time to show weakness.
She couldn’t show them that something was wrong or how it affected her, so she kept the scream inside.
But Ron knew.
Their eyes locked across the room. He was pale, frightened but angry like a cornered animal. She knew what he would have said at that moment if he could have spoken to her. She could hear his voice as clear as day.
“Breathe Mione” The reassurance would come.
“We will be OK.” The promise he couldn’t keep.
All she wanted to hear was “I love you” just one more time before death came for her. Before his screams and desperate pleas to take her place would echo the room as they had done moments ago. In this and every moment, he was hers and she was his. Hermione cursed what the last months had done to tear that apart.
The next pain took hold of her body, but instead, she winced at the slice of the knife digging into her flesh, it helped in its own way, forcing clarity and focus on the bigger picture. A trickle of warmth slid down her neck and Hermione felt Ron’s eyes on her. She felt her eyes closing and internally she screamed. It manifested silently in her voice box saved for later. Her muscles were ablaze from the unknown pain.
Hermione knew that the curses Lestrange had used to retrieve information from her couldn’t have caused this. The Cruciatus Curse only held pain for the moments it was cast, the others were merely used to cause surface pains. It never fully dissipated, lingering in the cells of her body, Hermione knew something was damaged within her. She often forgot that not everything in the world was magical, perhaps the boot that had impacted her abdomen mere moments ago had ruptured something important.
She tried her best to think logically, if she could identify the site of the pain then she might have a chance to tell Ron and Harry and there may be something they could do to help… that was if they ever got out of the vipers' nest. She couldn’t focus long enough before another pain took hold.
For a brief moment, Hermione wondered, if this was maybe what death felt like. She gritted her teeth and screamed into herself once more, she was beginning to like the pain, it allowed her a moment to forget where she was. The conversation occurring around her was nothing more than a faint buzzing, like static on an untuned radio, Hermione focused instead on a desperate rumbling in her stomach, it tightened and quickened, the pain spreading to her lower back. Like ... she took a sharp breath.
Hermione smiled as the universe handed her the final knife in her back. Her hand rested on her stomach. No period in almost two years, thanks in part to the people who held her captive and now was the time it arrived. It was practically poetic. She always had a teary moment when her period arrived, she allowed a couple of tears to fall from her. The smell of blood confirmed it, it hung in the stale air of the manor drawing room, mingling with her anxiety.
As the radio static flickered, clarity returned to her she realised today was going to be the day she died, but not here. She would not give Lestrange the satisfaction of watching her die.
It was Harry who spoke now, the conversation feeling as though it had lasted for years. It held no interest to her, nor did the shrieks and threats flying from behind her. There was an unknown reason Bellatrix had not sliced her from ear to ear, so for now she would focus on him.
On her knight.
On her Ron.
If she had to die today, she wanted to be with him, to be happy. Opening her eyes again she sought his eyes.
His focus was no longer on her, he watched something above her.
As though on queue the witch holding her captive pulled her hair backwards, scrapping the knife along the skin of her throat. Hermione felt herself being pushed forward, the knife ripped away without slicing her and she stood stationary as she watched the Chandelier plummeting towards her. The frame hit her head, and the weight of the metal crashing down on her was numbing. The glass splintered into her face and hands as she crumpled to the floor.
The weight lifted from her body with a single fluid movement as peppermint, firewood and parchment surrounded her being and suddenly she heard his voice once more.
“Mione, please be ok”
He was there, she opened her eyes, watching his eyes, fear, elation, and love woven together in the most oceanic blue… the windows to his soul. While the world moved around her she wasn’t doing the moving, he had her in his arms, and she was back where she felt at home.
It had been so long since he had held her like this.
Harry shouted to someone Hermione didn’t care to acknowledge. “Get us out of here”
His hand gripped the back of her jumper with expectation, while Ron watched her face… She smiled as she thought of the Burrow, Mrs Weasley's Shepherd’s Pie, and long summer days in the sunshine… of waking up in Ron’s bed, Ron’s arms.
She wanted to take them to safety, but she couldn't take them anywhere. Some enchantment was stopping her from apparating. It was futile, she brought her hand to his face and tears streaked his cheek.
"Mione..." He whispered. Her thumb ran over his bottom lip.
“I love you…” She whispered, and a smile spread across his face.
“I love you too…” A moment later, the room was swirling and the familiar feeling of swirling endlessly rushed over her, she wasn't in control but someone was taking them away from the nightmare.
There was a shout from within the room, followed by a scream of "No" before a warmth impacted her abdomen.
As another wave of pain hit, Hermione knew whatever it was, was the root cause of her troubles, the intensity of pain increasing like nothing she had ever felt before. Each wave becoming more desperate.
She hit the ground hard, her back slamming against the ground and stopping the pain much like her thought process in its tracks. She reached her hands to feel the ground beneath her, expecting a handful of grass and finding only gritty, wet sand.
There was a scrambling beside her, Ron's arms found her pulling her to her feet like a ragdoll. He embraced her tightly, sobs rippling over him, everything felt disorientating, and she tried to focus on the scenery. Over his shoulder was the ocean and sand as far as the eye could see. She felt suddenly icy cold and boiling all at once. Bile rose in her throat but did not surface. Harry watched the two of them embracing, a mix of shock and relief covered his face as he slumped towards the two of them. She wanted a few more moments alone with Ron before the end. The pains came thick and fast now and the inside of her thighs felt warm and wet with blood. Harry’s arms wrapped around her, and she leaned her weight into him, Ron held his arms around the two of them sobs wracking both their bodies.
She breathed a sigh of relief at least they were safe now to continue, and for the moment she was safe with them.
It lasted both forever and the tiniest moment but as Ron’s grip loosened slightly she felt her legs fail her. Hermione sank to the ground, the pain in her centre ached and she let go of the guttural sounds her body had been aching to make. It swelled in her throat and released through gritted teeth, a low elongated growl followed by the urge to bear down.
The world around her quietened.
She was on the ground now, slumped but supported by Ron whose long arms cradled her. Harry crouched alongside the two of them, his hands on her shoulder. They both spoke but she heard nothing but silence. She watched Ron’s lips as he spoke to her. He was frantic but all she remembered was the taste of him on her. It hurt they had so little time to be... and Hermione wondered if she would be able to kiss him again before Death took hold of her. She reached out for his face and pulled his face to her.
Just one more kiss was not a lot to ask. He kissed her softly, the same terrified kiss they shared in their secret place. It was happy back then, but now his tears made tracks along his dirty face. He tasted of salt. The tracks revealed his freckles. She smiled up at him, revelling in the feeling of being safe with him. If she closed her eyes maybe she would wake up with him there , tangled together in his orange throw. Her thumb rubbed the water gently as another wave of pain forced her eyes closed and wrenched another grunt from her throat.
The noise returned to the world suddenly and the sound of waves, and so many voices overwhelmed her senses.
Ron's voice was the loudest.
“Mione, please tell me what I can do.” He pleaded choking back sobs.
“Mione, please tell me what I can do.” That was how it started, the night back in July when they...
Her mind flickered with a sudden realization, the pains ebbed and flowed at intervals. Tightening.
Contracting.
… Surely it couldn't be possible.
She had checked...
…over and over she had checked.
But with the quickest calculation in her head. July, August, September… and December Ron left… it's March 1st.
9 months.
Her heart stopped, and with it, the world around her stopped too, and for the briefest moment, it was just them again. Their world had become so full of Horcruxes and War, she had become so consumed she hadn’t registered. It couldn’t be possible and yet it was happening.
The panic in his voice broke her trance. “Hermione, please talk to me…”
“I’m pregnant” She blurted it out not knowing what else to say. They had had this moment once before, he had been understanding almost happy but that was a lifetime ago and a moment he would not remember. She watched his eyes, confusion came first, followed by the treehouse and as he did the same math she had moments ago the same fear filled him. It felt like a lifetime before he spoke again.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded letting a sob escape her.
He looked for a moment like he wanted to run away, and she wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. She would have given anything at that moment to run away too. There was so much damage, she may not be the only one meeting death today. Her mouth dried as she thought of the possibility of what was about to occur, the thought of losing him again, of the invisible string that had bound them together during their separation, the pain it would have just endured and as Ron watched her and she watched him, she saw a spark ignite in his eyes.
“Harry, go and get Fleur”
Harry moved away before he returned almost immediately like a boomerang “What was that about …”
Another wave washed over her, a contraction. The pain was intense, she didn’t want to have to explain anything to Harry now. Questions and answers would lead to more questions with answers she didn’t have, the pain and exhaustion combined with the events of the day had taken everything that she had already. Ron read her like a book, “Dobby, Luna, Seamus go to that house down there and get Fleur or my brother Bill… Please!”
Dobby disappeared with a pop and Luna and Seamus took off together across the sand. Harry stood above them asking questions that neither she nor Ron cared to acknowledge.
She watched as he breathed a steadying breath. He took his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“It’s going to be ok." He spoke to himself most of all. "Do you know what are we supposed to do?”
She shook her head, she had no books on this and only vague knowledge from Primary School, Sex Education Primary School.
“Just breathe, help is coming, we will be ok… all of us.” his hands rubbing her leg instinctively. She gritted her teeth once more his hand gripped hers, she squeezed it the way she had seen in the movies. As the pain subsided again she opened her eyes to see Harry watching them. He looked so scared, but in a moment of silent understanding, he moved towards her asking no further questions. Her best friend took her free hand and she accepted it gratefully.
“Did you know?” Ron asked tentatively, kissing her forehead.
“No…” It wasn’t a lie, not really. Another pain hit. She gripped their hands, letting out a scream now. There had been a slow build-up until now, the new pains attacked without warning and disappeared as fast as they occurred.
She opened her eyes to see Harry and Ron sharing a look. Ron nodded and began to move from her, her stomach swooped, and she grabbed his arm. He crouched in front of her legs, “Breathe… it’s ok, I’m not going anywhere” He rubbed her legs and smiled.
“I’m so sorry” She sobbed.
He shook his head and squeezed her hand again. "No … you don’t ever have to be sorry for this, it's my fault…”
She was glad of the wave that cut him off. Harry took both her hands now, she buried her head into his shoulder. She hated him seeing her like this he had been through so much.
It was getting closer something squirmed in her stomach. “Something is happening” She cried.
She felt the coat leaving her shoulders, and the cold wind hit her.
She opened her eyes, "Help me" She heard Ron say to Harry. Her arms tensed as she pushed against Harry's hands Ron lifted her body with his hands, before shimmying her on top of the coat.
He reached for the button on her jeans, before pulling her trousers down. Fear flickered in his eyes and his breathing became hollow, and her blood ran cold. “Something is wrong…” She looked from Ron to Harry both of them paralysed with fear.
Ron blinked away a tear, "No ..." He rubbed her legs "... nothing is wrong... we are fine..." Leaning forward he put his hand on her stomach. "We are going to be fine."
Harry took his jacket off handing it to Ron, he covered her lower half from the elements. Leaving her exposed only to Ron.
Harry's hand squeezed hers as hard as she had done his moments before.
It hurt too much for everything to be fine. She couldn't think, could barely breathe, she just wanted the pain to stop. Ron's eyes widened but he said nothing. "Something is wrong,"
"Hey you've been through worse Hermione, this is easy” Harry said, accepting her vicelike grip on his hands with a pained expression, and as she screamed once more, she wondered if she could be the person who put an end to his title of the Boy Who Lived.
"Not fucking helping mate!" hissed Ron as he shushed and soothed her.
A scream came from beside her, Fleur had stopped suddenly as she saw the scene, she erupted into streams of French words. Bill must have been following closely behind and with a much clearer. “Bloody Hell” stopped next to his wife. “Ron what the hell is going on…”
She kept her focus on Ron, his eyes locked on hers again “Come on Mione. I can see the top of her head that's all. You can do this”
She grunted, feeling as though she was being torn in two, but her body seemed to know what it was doing, how people did this more than once she would never know, psychosis maybe.
“It’s got my hair, Mione…” Ron’s eyes were filled with tears and his fearful smile crept back as he held her legs.
She wanted to punch him. Repeatedly. In the face. With a chair. She didn’t know why, her logic told her his fear was becoming excitement she should be happy but the pain inside her was so intense it was taking everything from her. It was just them in the world now she grunted again. As the sound escaped her, he urged her to go on, he was her cheerleader and her reason to carry on.
His hands waited to catch their child. Hermione closed her eyes grunting as her body told her to push. Two long minutes later, a tiny scream pierced the air, the pain numbed with it. That was it, it was over.
She flopped against Harry who laughed through shaky tears.
“She's a girl... look at her Hermione, you did it, she’s so perfect…” Ron said.
She … a girl. They had a Daughter.
She wanted to sleep now. To dream. To forget but there were expectations. His laughter forced her eyes open. And there she was. So tiny and mighty.
Their daughter, with her fiery red hair and screaming face, was here.