Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or any of its characters.


It was September 19th, the baby's due date and Mrs. Dr. Granger was still at work. Waddling over to her patient, she pulled her curly brown hair back in a ponytail, washed her hands once more, put new gloves on, and got to work.

Her patient, a boy named Todd of about seven, squirmed as she poked and prodded his teeth. The baby jumped and kicked as well. "Todd, could you please stay still." The boy obliged and now that he was immobile, Mrs. Granger could see the problem. "Well it looks like someone's been eating to many sweets. You've got a cavity so we got to fill it up, alright?"

"Will it hurt?" He asked as she called for an assistant.

"Oh, heavens, no. We just give you some gas," She held up the mask to show him wincing as the baby kicked even harder. "You go to sleep for a bit and when you wake your cavity will be filled. You might even get a balloon."

The prospect of a balloon shut the kid up enough to give him the gas and Dr. Granger started filling his cavity.

About half way through, her husband stuck his head in the room. "Joanne, do you want me to take over? This kid's the last patient for the day anyway and you could head home and rest." He was tall with glasses and neat dark brown hair. He had a mask on and gloves even though he was a considerable distance from the patient.

"Alan… I'm already half done; I might as well finish," She glanced up at him, smiled and continued scraping the boy's molar.

"I swear if our child's as determined as you it will be able do anything."

"Well, if our child is as odd as you…" She didn't finish because she let out a sharp gasp and nearly dropped her instruments on young Todd's face. "Oh my gosh, the baby's coming," she handed the instruments to the assistant and struggled to stand.

Alan rushed to her side, almost slipping on the liquid on the floor, and helped her to her feet. "It's coming now? This is too soon! We don't have your suitcase here or anything. We have to get you to the hospital!" He said frantically in a typical new-father way.

"Al? Could you calm down so we can leave?" She headed for the door on her own grapping her coat from the closet. "Could you finish that up, Mary, and then lock up?" She called to the assistant. Joanne then looked over at her husband who was now standing there dumbly. "Hurry up, Al," She cried exasperatedly going through another contraction.

He hurried to her side once more and led her outside to their car, slamming the door, which read: Granger and Granger, DDS. Under that in smaller letters, it read 'Your Magical Dentists'.


Alan paced in front of the delivery room wondering when his child would be born. They've been in there for hours. He checked his watch; it was half past eleven.

"Oh, Alan. You'll pace a hole in the floor," said his mother, Gretchen, who had come from across town when she heard the news. She was considerably calmer than her son and daughter-in-law. "Babies are born all the time so, relax."

"Yes, but my baby isn't born all the time." He yielded though and sat down on one of the surprising comfortable chairs. He watched the clock tapping his foot in time with the second hand.

Tick

Tap

Tock

Tap

Tick

Finally, at one minute to midnight, a doctor stepped out from the delivery room. "Mr. Granger," she said. "Congratulations! You're the father of bouncing baby girl." The doctor than ushered him in and there he saw them: his wife and daughter.

Alan leaned over them and kissed Joanne's forehead. She looked tired but seemed to glow as she held their daughter. She was a bit on the smaller side but was beautiful. She had tiny wrinkled hands and her head already had a batch of dark brown hair.

However, the feature that Alan was most drawn to was her eyes. Bright brown eyes and already seemed to sparkle with intelligence. They took in the room and stopped at her father's face. She stared at him, studied him, and acknowledged him.

"What should we name her?" he inquired softly.

"Hermione." Joanne replied with only the slightest pause. "Hermione Jane."

"Hermione?" Both Alan and one of the nurses gave her a look. "Wherever did you get that name from, Jo?"

"From Shakespeare. It sounds so intellectual and unique, don't you think?" She got slightly starry-eyed as she handed her baby girl back to one of the nurses. The other waited for the baby's name so she could record it.

"Well, it certainly is unique." Alan sighed. "But, Jo, why can't she have a more traditional name? Like Clear or Phoebe? Those mean intelligence as well."

"Come on, Al. Wouldn't you rather your child be an individual rather than a conformist?"

"We can't be conformist. We're British," He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed once more. Behind him, the nurse impatiently cleared her throat and tapped her pen against her paper, which meant 'Could you please hurry up and name the kid already?'

"Hermione Jane Granger…" He tried it out. "It does have a nice ring to it, I suppose."

"So that's her name then, Mr. and Mrs. Granger?" The nurse piped up. "Hermione Jane Granger and how would you spell it, miss?"

While Joanne spelled it to her the other nurse handed the baby Hermione to Alan. She stared at him intensely once more as he said gently, "Welcome to the world, my little Hermione."