A Craving for Blueberries- A Harmony one shot
A heavily pregnant and two weeks overdue Hermione Granger-Potter lounged on the leather sofa in the library of the home she shared with her darling husband Harry, book in hand and a bowl perched on top of her rounded belly. Her latest craving was blueberries. Raw blueberries. Harry often teased her that their unborn baby would come into the world tinged violet if she kept eating them. She absentmindedly plucked one from the bowl and popped it in her mouth, savouring the taste. She reached to get another, only to find the bowl empty.
"Harry?" she called out lovingly, knowing her husband was in their spacious kitchen preparing dinner after directing her to get off her feet after the Midwife-Healer scolded her for being on her feet too much at her home check-in, as Harry & Hermione had decided to go the home birth route.
"Yes sweetheart?" the baritone voice rang out clearly.
Hermione shuddered, loving the sound of his voice which is what got her in trouble in the first place, hence her prominent bump.
"I'm out of blueberries!" she called back, a pout beginning to form on her blueberry-stained lips.
Harry peered around the corner, a smirk on his face. "Well it's a good thing I bought more today love," he replied. He'd go to any lengths to make his witch happy, even if it meant scouring every magical and Muggle market in London for her.
"Can you bring me some please, sweetheart?" Hermione inquired innocently.
No more than the words had left her mouth, her husband strode in with a fresh bowl and removed the empty one, placing a kiss on her forehead. Before he left, he leaned down and placed another kiss on her belly that nestled their child that they had made together. Hermione smiled broadly, gently ruffling his hair as he walked away. She leant back, doing her best to get comfortable. She groaned in frustration before finally giving up and grabbing the elongated pregnancy pillow that she really didn't like to use unless necessary. She sighed in relief as the pressure on her back eased and she could go back to reading Magical Birth: What to Expect.
Harry called out: "Dinner is ready love. Do you want to eat in the kitchen or would you rather I bring a tray to you?"
"I'll eat in the kitchen with you," she replied to her husband, "but I need help getting up please." A quiet chuckle that she thankfully did not hear escaped her husband's lips before he swiftly strode into the library. He still played Quidditch regularly with some of the other members of his department at the Ministry, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, so he still maintained a muscular physique.
"Up you go, my lady," he declared, lifting her gently to her feet and rubbing her bump again, kissing her nose. He guided her to the kitchen and pulled her seat out for her, helping her into it before sitting down. He had cooked one of Hermione's favourite meals (and his too): roast with potatoes, carrots, and onions.
"Smells delicious, Harry," she beamed over at him. They both dug in, equally famished because she was eating for two, and sympathy cravings meant he practically was too.
"Harry, did you finish reading Raising Your Magical Child: Dos and Don'ts?" his wife inquired, almost finished with her meal.
"I actually did, and there is some fairly decent information," he returned, "but I would like to raise our child in a mixed world—both magical and non-magical, if you're alright with it, of course."
His wife nodded in agreement, beaming at him again. She moved her empty plate aside and dug into her bowl of blueberries that had somehow made their way from the library to the kitchen, sighing happily with each one she ate.
"Can you spare some for your loving husband, sweetheart?" Harry batted non-existent eyelashes at her, causing her to chuckle.
"Oh! Hmmm. The baby likes laughter it seems. Baby Potter kicked me just now!" she chortled. Harry smoothed his hand over where the baby kicked and spoke to the bump.
"Now listen; this is your Father speaking: I am your Father."
Hermione giggled as he pulled yet another Star Wars reference out of the air. She fully regretted ever introducing her husband to the Trilogy. But the baby calmed at his voice, causing wonderment to spread over Hermione's face. He kept rubbing her bump soothingly as she ate. She gazed over at him, still in awe that she was so lucky to have married Harry Potter. Never in a million years would she have thought she'd ever catch his eye. If anyone had told her that four years after graduating from Hogwarts that she'd be marrying the Man-Who-Conquered, she'd have laughed them straight into St. Mungo's.
She fed Harry some of her craved blueberries but was stingy with the rest. Finally sated, she pushed the bowl back, getting an odd look from the man seated closer to her. She exhaled, a twinge in her lower back causing her to jump.
"You okay, 'Mione?" her husband asked, suddenly concerned. She nodded once, but before she could speak again, another stronger twinge caused her to cry out.
"Harry I think you need to Floo the midwife," she said, strained.
"Of course, sweetheart." He jumped up and rushed to the Floo where he called for the midwife and soon had the matronly woman hot on his heels, a large bag in her hand.
"How are you feeling, Mrs. Potter?" the woman inquired gently while running diagnostics with her wand wordlessly.
"Sudden twinges in my back, Mathilde. They started as I was finishing dinner but didn't want to alarm Harry. I just thought they were faa—" she was interrupted as a twinge caused her to grip the table, white-knuckled.
"Breathe, love," Harry reminded sweetly as he came 'round behind her to rub her lower back as they'd practiced a few weeks before in a Muggle birthing class. Hermione nodded and engaged her deep breathing, the waves of pain subsiding a few minutes later.
"I think this finally might be it," Mathilde interrupted with a warm smile on her face. "Let's get her to the bedroom, Mr. Potter. Shouldn't be long now."
Harry nodded, suddenly nervous but schooled his features so he wouldn't scare his wife. He helped Hermione stand and aided her to their bedroom where an inflatable tub on a large square of plastic sheeting had been set up a few days before. He sat her on the edge of the bed, flicking his wand to fill the tub with warm water and flicked again to change her into a comfortable sports bra and no bottoms. Another cry filled the air and he rubbed her legs, encouraging her to breathe while the Midwife-Healer timed the contractions on a pocket-watch, each one self-recording on a floating clipboard that followed behind her. When it had passed, Mathilde shooed Harry away for a moment in order to examine the younger witch.
"Lie back a little, Mrs. Potter. Let's see if you've progressed any," she cajoled warmly. Harry moved around by Hermione's head, dropping sweet kisses on her face and head, wherever he could reach. After what seemed an eternity, Mathilde spoke again.
"You're at five centimetres, my dear," she confirmed.
Hermione nodded, already sweating as she gripped Harry's hand tightly. She exhaled hard, allowing Harry to aid her upright and over to the tub. He held onto her as she stepped over into the warmth and got comfortable while he conjured a pillow to sit on in the floor in front of the tub. Mathilde retreated to her chair over to the side, allowing the couple some privacy, observing how sweet and caring the dark-haired wizard was towards his witch. Harry murmured encouraging things to his wife, planting light kisses on her forehead and neck, rubbing her lower back as she worked through stronger contractions.
A few hours later, Hermione and Harry reclined on the bed snuggled together, a dark-haired bundle wrapped in a light blue muslin blanket against Hermione's chest, already nursing. Theodore James Potter was a perfect baby, in every sense of the word, having been deftly delivered by his father in a whirlwind of activity. Hermione nuzzled the dark-haired baby as he nursed, stroking his perfect face with her fingertip as Harry gazed on lovingly.
"He's just wonderful sweetheart," Harry murmured as he kissed his trooper of a wife sweetly, then kissed his son's dark curls. She beamed at him contentedly, tiredness evident in her features.
Their family had only grown by one tiny baby but filled both their hearts to the brim and overflowing. And contrary to Harry's teasing, he did not come out tinged violet, but did have eyes the colour of blueberries.
~Fin~
