This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Hermione's Baby

Baby Harry rolled over on his back and kicked his covers off once again. His Mum would probably shake her head in pretend anger and cover him up again, but for now, he was enjoying the warmth of the early morning sun as it filtered through the slats of the window shades and caressed his fat little tummy. He loved the morning time more that any other time of the day: the sun, the birds that were just waking up along with him and the myriad of sights and sounds that were presented to him each morning, for what seemed to be his own personal pleasure.

He rolled over on his right side now to stare through the bars of his crib at his Mum, who was still sleeping, albeit fitfully. Baby Harry was hungry and he was tempted to let go with one of his piercing wails to let his Mum know how hungry he was. As he looked at her though, he seemed to sense how tired she was, she had been up all night, both with him and with doing whatever it was that she was doing with that strange looking pot that she had in the fireplace. He kicked his legs again and wiggled his fat little body around to get a better look at his Mum. Of all of the beautiful things that he had seen in his short life, he thought that his Mum was the most beautiful of all. He loved her long, bushy, brown hair. He had so much fun grabbing and playing with it when she was trying to feed him. She had taken to putting it up into a ponytail as of late when it was time to feed him, which was not nearly as much fun. He loved her eyes too, beautiful, big eyes that reflected so much love for him, but eyes that all too often would well up with tears as she held him close to her. She would sometimes sob uncontrollably while she was holding him; at those times, Baby Harry would start to flap his arms and do his silly baby giggle thing and give her the biggest smile that he could manage. She would usually begin to giggle and smile back at him, her pain eased for the moment; it was the only way he knew of helping her. He smiled now as he saw that his Mum was beginning to wake up. That meant that he would be having breakfast soon. He was really hungry now and could not wait for his Mum to come pick him up.

Hermione Granger's eyelids slowly lifted as she woke up to face the new day. She rolled over on her side to stare back at the little person who was staring at her. She could not help but laugh as she saw Baby Harry staring through the bars of his crib at her, like a little monkey at the zoo, waiting for his breakfast, she thought. She yawned, stretched, and dragged herself out of bed. She had never realized that having a baby could take so much out of a woman; it seemed that she was always tired, she was still fat, and there were just never enough hours in the day. She smiled as she looked at her beautiful little boy, knowing that she did not regret having a baby, especially this baby, and if she had it to do over again she certainly would.

Hermione went over to the crib and lifted Baby Harry into her arms, giving him a warm loving hug as she did. "How's my little monkey today," she asked playfully. He was not exactly sure what she was saying of course, but he saw that she was smiling so he smiled back and that seemed to please her. She grabbed a small blanket and walked over to sit in the rocker by the fireplace. She placed him in the correct position and then opened her gown, to reveal her breasts, swollen with Mother's milk. "At least you have given me big boobies, if only for a time," she joked as she offered one to him. Baby Harry readily accepted the offering, grabbing hold with both hands and feeding for all he was worth. He really loved his Mum, especially during feeding time.

"Had enough, have you?" said Hermione, looking down at her fat little baby who had finally finished his breakfast. "We won't have any problems keeping up your weight, I can see that. Not like your Father, no sir. He was always just skin and bone, but I don't think we will have that problem with you." Hermione looked down at her son and thought of his Father, her eyes began to mist but she fought against it. "I will not cry, I will not cry…," she said to herself. She held her son tightly and walked around the room, singing to him. He is such a good baby; he deserves a Mum who is not always walking around blubbering. "I will try to do better little Harry, it is so hard for me but I will try to do better," she said as she kissed him on the forehead.

After Harry had been fed, Hermione took him to the bathroom and they prepared for their morning bath. She checked his diapers first and after a good cleaning, they were ready to get into the tub. Hermione was very careful to make sure that the temperature was not too hot and that she did not run too much water into the tub. She now removed all of her clothes and with Baby Harry in her arms, they got into the tub. The water felt good as it wafted over her aching body. Sometimes she felt like she was a hundred years old, what with taking care of Harry and working on the special potion for Madam Pomfrey until all hours of the night. She lay back against the tub and closed her eyes, relaxing, as she held Baby Harry who was sitting on her tummy.

Hermione had evidently dozed off for a bit, but she was immediately awakened by her son's playful screaming and splashing in the water. He always enjoyed bath time so much; sometimes it seemed as if he wanted to stay in the water all day. She saw that he was playing with his favourite water toy, a replica of one of the boats that ferried the new, first year students to Hogwarts Castle on their first night. Neville had given Harry the little boat several weeks ago. There were little figures in the boat that looked like Harry's Daddy, Ron, Hermione and Neville. Neville had also put a spell on the boat so that as soon as it was put into the water, it began to paddle around by itself. Baby Harry clearly loved this little boat and Hermione was so grateful to Neville for giving it to him. Hermione was having such fond memories of Neville, that a very important thing almost escaped her. As she watched Harry play with his boat, she suddenly remembered that she had not brought the boat into the bathroom with her. The last she had seen it; it was in the bedroom, sitting on top of Harry's toy box!

"Harry, where did you get that?" Hermione was holding Harry out at arms length, looking at him and acting as if she really expected him to answer her. "No, this can't be it just can't be." She held her son close now. She looked deep into his eyes, trying to understand what had just happened. "All right, I must be loosing my mind; I must have brought the boat in here and just didn't remember doing it. Let's just have a little test so that I know I'm not going mad."

She let all of the water out and then sat Harry down on a towel in the tub. She position other towels and pillows around him so he would not fall over and then ran to place the little boat back on top of the toy box.

What a great sight I must make; here she was, a fat girl running around naked in her apartment trying to determine if her baby had just… just what? Hermione removed the towels and pillow and got back in the tub.

"Go ahead Harry, get your boat, get your boat, please prove that Mummy isn't crazy," she pleaded, but to no avail. Harry just sat there smiling at her, wondering what his Mum was up to. "Oh Harry, please get your boat. I don't know how you did it but I know you did it!" Hermione held her son close to her chest and leaned back with a sigh. "I must be loosing my mind; I must have brought the boat in and didn't remember. I dozed off and when I heard you playing with it in the water… wait! There isn't any water in the tub now, maybe that's what you need." Hermione turned the taps and the water slowly rose to the level it had been when she and Harry had first gotten in the tub. She leaned back and sat Harry on her tummy like before, except this time, she kept her eyes open and watched her son closely. Harry sat there for a moment or two, looking first at his Mum, then through the open doorway into the bedroom where his toy box stood. He stared at the box for the longest time, finally reaching his hands out and pointing them towards the box. Hermione stifled a gasp as she saw the little boat on top of the toy box begin to move. It shifted a little to the left and then to the right before it finally began to rise in the air and float towards the bathroom. The boat hovered over the tub for just a bit and then descended gently onto the water. As soon as the boat hit the water, it began to move on its own power and Baby Harry clapped his hands and squealed with delight. His Mummy just shook her head and held him gently as he continued to play with the boat.

Hermione and her son spent the rest of the afternoon fetching various items from around the apartment, summoning them to an ever-growing pile on one end of the sofa. Every time little Harry would levitate something to the sofa, Hermione would look at him in wonder, clapping her hands and smiling at him. Harry was having so much fun, seeing his Mum have fun, that he did not seem to tire of this new, wondrous game. She had him fetch objects that were increasingly more and more difficult, each one a little larger or a little heavier than the one before. Harry learned quickly, that when Mum pointed to a certain object, or stood beside a certain object, that was the one that she wanted him to fetch. Every time he performed his little trick it seemed to become easier for him; he would always land the object on the sofa in the gentlest manner. Hermione felt a little guilty when she at last had Harry fetch Crookshanks, who was curled up asleep in his basket, to a resting place on her lap. The cat had squirmed and squirmed during his short trip across the room. When he was finally, unceremoniously, dumped on Hermione's lap, he had given her a look that could only be described as extreme annoyance. As soon as Harry had released him from the spell, Crookshanks had swatted Hermione on the nose and run off to hide on the top shelf of the closet.

"Oh my, guess I deserved that, Harry," said Hermione, rubbing her nose and laughing. "I just got carried away watching you perform."

She picked her son up, grabbed a towel and took her place in the rocking chair. Harry had to be starving, they had been at it all afternoon, I am a bad Mum, she thought to herself. As Harry fed, she could not help looking at him in wonderment. Nothing is ever guaranteed in the wizarding, of course, but she had always held out the strongest hope that little Harry would inherit at least some of their powers and become a powerful wizard. It looked liked her wishes were going to be granted in a most amazing way, not since Harry James Potter had survived the first Voldemort attack had any baby that she knew of shown the kind of magical greatness that had apparently been bestowed on her son. She and Harry's father must have been just the right combination to conceive a child the likes of which the wizarding had never seen.

Little Harry had stopped feeding now and was beginning to yawn.

"I don't blame you Harry, I haven't let you have a proper nap today, I just had to see what how strong your magic was."

She made a little nest for Harry on the sofa, after dumping all of the fetched items on the floor. She didn't want to put him in his crib, she wanted to be as close as she could to him; for some reason, even though she was elated by the discovery of Harry's powers; she was also experiencing a feeling of deep foreboding.

As she watched him sleep, her thoughts went back to that last night that she and Harry's father had spent together. She had tracked him down in Godric's Hollow, at his parent's house. Dobby and the other house elves from Hogwarts had magically restored the place as a gift to Harry for his birthday. She knew that he would be hiding there. Harry was not hiding from Voldemort, of course; he was in fact preparing to face Voldemort for what he hoped in his heart, would be the final battle. No, Harry was hiding from his friends. He did not want anyone that he cared anything about to be near him when he fought this last fight, he didn't want to see any more of his friends die. She had argued with him for much of the night, in a failed effort to get him to let her accompany him on this perhaps last, great quest. In the end, they were both tired from all of the arguing and they ended up just holding each other in front of the fireplace, leaning against the sofa. The thought of possibly losing Harry weighed heavily on her mind; in the end, she knew exactly what she wanted, she wanted Harry to give a part of himself to her, something that she could love and treasure for always, something that they could share together, or something that would always remind her of Harry.

She had thought that it would be difficult to seduce Harry, but in the end, she found that he wanted it as much as she did. They were both inexperienced of course, but they had managed to figure everything out and have a wonderful, loving time while doing it.

"I didn't hurt you did I Mione?" he had asked while he gently held her.

She smiled, and kissed him softly. "No; dear, sweet Harry, you didn't hurt me. That was the most wonderful thing I have ever experienced."

"I… I didn't really know what I was doing Mione, first time and all."

"Believe me Harry, you were just fine," she said smiling.

He held her naked body close to his and enjoyed the warmth and softness of her.

"I guess I have loved you forever, Mione. I do not know how I could ever love anyone else. You have always been there for me, helping me, protecting me. I would have been dead long ago if not for you."

"Sush, Harry. Just hold me and think about all of the wonderful times we have had together. Think about how we became friends; think about how much I love you."

"Hermione, if things don't work out, if I don't come back-"

She stiffened at his remark and turned her back to him; she began sobbing uncontrollably.

"Mione, please don't cry… please."

She turned back to face him and they embraced once again, holding each other tight.

"You will come back Harry, you will come back."

He pulled back a bit and kissed the tears from her face.

"I will always be here for you Mione, always."

They made love again.

When Hermione awoke in the morning, she found herself alone. Harry had gone off to face Voldemort, and that was the last that anyone had seen of the boy who lived. Nine months after her last night with Harry, little Harry had been born; he was what kept Hermione from going crazy with grief, he was what kept her alive. He was a constant reminder to her of the young man she loved so dearly, she knew now that he would assume his Father's role and become a great Wizard.

Voldemort also had not been seen or heard from since the encounter with Harry. The consensus was, that they had killed each other and that now all that there was to deal with were the last few hardcore followers of Voldemort, the remaining Death Eaters.

Hermione did not believe for a moment that Voldemort was gone. She had the most terrible feeling that he was once again recuperating from his injuries and was even now gathering his Death Eaters for one last assault on the Wizarding World. She knew in her heart that Voldemort was probably alive and aware of little Harry, she shuddered at the thought of that monster coming for her precious little son.

She watched him as he slept, kicking his legs as if he was having some wonderful, adventurous dream. How beautiful he was, already with a mop of the blackest hair, and the most beautiful green eyes anyone had ever seen. She gently stroked his tummy and thought to herself, Oh Harry, what a story we are going to have for your Daddy when he gets home tonight!