"Hope For the Future"
When Alice Longbottom opened her eyes, she groaned. St. Mungo's. She turned carefully onto her side to find her husband snoring away in a visitor's chair. Alice bit her lip to hide a grin; no Death Eater could imitate that sound.
"Mrs. Longbottom?" a healer bustled toward her. "I'm Healer Carmenta."
"My husband..." Alice gestured for the woman to keep her voice down. She could not remember the last time she had seen Frank so peaceful in sleep.
"Exhausted, I can tell," the healer said softly. "They don't let you Aurors rest much do they?"
Alice was too tired to work out whether 'they' referred to the Ministry or the Death Eaters. Every day she hoped for another lull in the war.
"What hit me?" Everything after she Dis-Apparated was a blur. It had been the night of January 11, now it was morning but Alice did not know which morning. "What day is it?"
"Today is January 15. You were stunned, but you were so exhausted and..." Carmenta wet her lips with her tongue and Alice braced herself for the worst. Did the healers find something while they examined her? Had anyone died on the raid? Or was there an attack while she had been out.
"Tell me quickly," Alice ordered. Bad news was best delivered quickly.
"You're pregnant."
Alice stared at her. She must have misheard the woman. "Pardon?"
"Pregnant. Seven weeks along, due in late July or early August," the healer repeated, taking care with her words.
"Seven weeks?" That couldn't be true. But then with all that was going on she didn't have much time to spare on herself. But still, a witch was supposed to know these things.
"Seven weeks," the witch confirmed.
Alice fell back against her pillows. "I thought I was simply overworked."
"You are overworked," Carmenta said with a hint of reproach. She then proceeded to rattle off a list of suggestions that Alice decided to feign sleep to avoid hearing.
When the healer left her to rest, Alice opened her eyes and studied her husband. He looked so young in sleep, if one discounted the grey tinge of exhaustion or the silver in his hair. There were lines of worry where there ought to be no lines at all.
Pregnant. They had spoken of children, but neither of them truly expected to survive this war.
"I can't have a baby now," Alice whispered to the ceiling. She closed her eyes and rested a hand on her stomach. The practical thing would be to end her pregnancy so she could focus on her work. Immediately, a wave of protectiveness so powerful it frightened her moved in and swatted that thought like a gnat.
Alice had never considered herself the maternal type, but now she found herself wondering if she would have a girl or a boy. She thought of Frank, she had always known he would be a wonderful father. Even if one of them died, a child would mean the other had something to live for. Children were the future.
"You're smiling," Frank said, starting to sit up in his chair. "The Healer said they hadn't given you anything that would make you..."
"We're going to have a baby."
Her husband gaped at her. "A what?"
"A baby, Frank."
"Here? Now?" There was a definite note of panic in his voice.
Alice laughed, a real laugh full of life. How long had it been she had felt that kind of joy in living? "No, in July. Or perhaps August."
Frank looked goggle-eyed and helpless. Strange that a man who had three times stood up to You-Know-Who - no Voldemort - could be reduced to such a state by impending fatherhood.
"It'll be all right," she assured him, still smiling. "We're Aurors, we can handle it."
Frank looked as though he still needed convincing. She'd work with him. If necessary she could draft Augusta.