Chapter 35
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It had been several hours now, since Cainnech had left, and Brid had showed Severus how to help Breen so the babies would shift fully into the proper position for birth. Though there had been movement, they still weren't quite where they should be, so here he was, walking again, stopping for each contraction, then alternating with some of the other techniques. The babies' vitals were still strong, so Renee' wasn't concerned--yet.
"Ohh--S-Stop. 'nother..." He bit out as Severus turned and leaned a bit to help him wrap his arms around the taller man's neck.
Strong hands began massaging deeply into his lower back and periodically stroking up and down his flanks, as he tried to relax and keep his breathing steady. He was down to a sleeveless round-necked, thigh-length shift now; just enough to be considered modest in this situation. He had his face buried in the crook of Severus' neck, letting the man's familiar scent help keep him calm.
"Shhh...Relax. Yes, that's it. Breath in slowly through your nose. And... blow it slowly out. Focus on staying relaxed. Open. So our sons can move as they should. You're doing very well, Breen." Severus murmured softly as he held the smaller man.
"T-Try--"
"Shhh... don't try to speak. Just focus. I'm here for you."
"Mmmm..." Breen hummed into his neck, sending a warm shiver through his body.
Severus buried his nose in the dark hair and inhaled the scent that was all Breen. As one hand continued massaging the smaller man's back, he lifted his other hand to stroke down the dark fall of thick, wavy hair covering Breen's back. It was so soft, and the gesture seemed to calm both of them. He felt Breen's body relax further as the contraction finally abated. After taking a couple of deep breaths, Breen looked up at him.
"I'd like to use the ball now, please."
"As you wish."
He helped Breen over near the bed, where a soft mat, a small stool, and a very large, heavy inflated ball sat. He helped Breen to sit down on the ball, his legs spread wide, then sat himself, on the stool facing Breen, still holding his hands. When Brid had summoned the ball, he had looked at her as if she were mad, but once she explained how using it, worked for the laboring parent, he nodded in understanding. He still thought it looked like an oversized playground toy, though.
"Ready?"
Breen nodded, and began to rock gently from side-to-side, looking at him from below half-closed lids. He looked back, holding the gaze, and was caught off guard when Breen managed a tiny smile. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, as Breen yawned.
"Ye shou'd hav' eh lie-down an' try ta rest." Brid said, when she turned and caught the tail end of the yawn.
"In a bit. This helps." Breen mumbled, his eyes closed, and his hands still held firmly in Severus'.
The older man looked at the mediwitch and rolled his eyes, and received a knowing nod and a wink. She knew Breen would need to move again soon. It was the way of these things. She picked up the stack of linens and towels and walked across the room.
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Ron had just received an owl from his parents, and had been seeking out Albus. As he held Elsbeth in his arms and swayed back and forth, he explained quickly about them being brought toBretagnefor Ginny. He was still in shock over what his sister had done. They'd no idea that two of her victims had actually been Harry and his daughter.
Albus assured him that he would go immediately to fetch them, and he would also speak to Clouseau and Kingsley about the possibility she'd been tainted by the Dark Lord in her First Year, and what options there were for her.
Albus left the room to gather his cloak, as Hermione entered the room. She put her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder, and just looked at Elsbeth, sleeping quietly in her Da's arms. They stayed like that, swaying gently, sharing comfort.
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Ailey had slipped from the room quietly and unnoticed, and headed for her kitchen. It was time that dinner needed to be prepared for everyone and she needed to get back into her routine. Iain's fussing be damned. She loved him dearly but he fussed so when she wasn't well. She hated seeing the worry in his eyes. The sooner she was back in charge of her house, the sooner he would be able to focus on his horses again, and that was the way it should be.
As she entered the kitchen, she noticed that Maire had already begun the preparations for the meal. Eileen stood on a stool next to her helping clean the vegetables for the Cotriade. She could see the fresh fish nearby, waiting to be prepared as well. The smell of baking bread filled the room, as well as the Mouton a la Cuillere, Maire would have put on to cook that morning. She smiled.
"Ah'm glad ta see ye've got on wi' et. Did ye allow extra fer our new guests, Maire?" She asked.
"Aye, Miss Ailey. There'll be plenty."
Eileen turned and grinned. "Ah'm helpin', Seanmhair!"
Ailey nodded and smiled. "Gud. Ah'll leave ye ta et, an' be back en eh bit. Don' ferget tha Chouchen, Sweet Cider an' tha Pommeaufer lat'r."
"Aye, Miss Ailey. Miss Eileen willnae let me forget."
Turning, she left the kitchen to find Iain. She wanted to know how everything else was, hoping all was well.
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Albus arrived at the French MLE Offices, just as Molly and Arthur were walking out with their solicitor. It had been a very long and tiring day, trying to determine what options were available considering the very serious nature of her crimes. He had a few minutes to observe them before they noticed his presence, and what he saw made his heart break.
Both looked bone-weary as they bid their solicitor goodnight. They were wan and drawn, with dark circles under their eyes, and it was very evident Molly had been weeping, a sodden handkerchief clutched between her hands. Even Arthur's eyes were the tell-tale red. The bad choices of their only daughter made Percy's behavior during the war, pale in comparison. At least they'd proven he'd been under a long-acting Imperius.
Granted, he suspected, as did Severus, that Ginny had been affected by her contact with the shade of Tom Riddle in her First Year, but she would still have had some free will. The Dark Magic she'd been exposed to, had brought out a very dark side of her personality, that might not otherwise surfaced. He shook his head, put a warm smile on his face, and approached the elder Weasley's, once the solicitor had disappeared down the hall.
"Molly. Arthur. I'm so glad I was able to have arrived before you departed."
Both looked up, clearly startled to hear a familiar voice.
"Albus! What brings you here? Do you know about...Ginny?" Arthur choked out his daughter's name.
"Yes. Yes. I have my contacts, and I am here to help." He stepped between them and wrapped his arms around them, gently leading them to the Apparation Room in the French Ministry of Magic's Atrium. "I've come to take you to stay with some new friends I have acquired in Bretagne. I believe you will find them a very pleasant and welcoming group."
"A-Are you sure, Albus. We won't be imposing? I'd rather we didn't inconvenience anyone." Molly asked, clearly concerned.
The pale blue eyes began to twinkle madly. "No, no. It is something I think you both need very much right now. They are very understanding people. Come along now. I've had Dobby retrieve your bags."
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Micah had wandered into the kitchen for something to drink, and decided to stay to enjoy the aromas and visit with Eileen and Maire. He'd only been allowed up and around again the night before, since his injuries had been more severe than Ailey's. Eileen had been ecstatic to see him feeling better again.
"Unca' Micah!" Eileen squealed as she jumped down from her stool and raced across the kitchen to be caught up in the arms of the big Yank. She peppered his face with kisses and hugged his neck tight.
He chuckled. "Hey there, Short Round. I missed you too!"
Eileen stared up into his eyes as she held his cheeks, her expression becoming serious. "Aer ye all bett'r now?"
"Darn Tootin'! The Healer fixed me right up!" He set her down, so she could go back to helping. "So, Maire, what's been goin' on 'round here since I been laid up?"
"Mast'r Breen is in labour righ' now." She answered nonchalantly, smiling to herself, as she kept her back to the big man.
Micah's brows rose. "Yer pullin' my leg!"
"An' me Papa's helping him too! Me Papa's here, Unca' Micah--me own Papa! An' tha twins' Papa as well! An' Albus es here an' he has eh really long beard... "
"Shoot! Lookit all I missed!"
Just then, Albus came in the door, accompanied by an older redheaded couple, that looked as if they'd had a very rough day. Micah rose, wiping his hands on his denims, before holding one of them out.
"Albus!" Squealed Eileen.
Micah grabbed her in the other arm, as she sailed by. "Oh no ya don', Short Round! Miss Ailey'll have your hide if'n she sees ya greetin' folks like that." He stuck out his hand again. "Name's Micah Avery, Sir. I'm one 'o the handlers here."
"What a delightful accent! Southern United States, if I'm not mistaken. Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in Scotland, and a friend of the Malfoy-Lupins. Let me introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley--Arthur and Molly. They are dear longtime friends."
Micah dipped his head and touched his forehead, almost as if he were tipping a hat. He shook hands with both of them. "Much pleased to meet ya."
Arthur's brows were furrowed, he was thinking very hard about something, then he looked up at Micah. "You're one of those Yank cowboys, aren't you?"
"Arthur--" Molly began, but was cut off by Albus leading her to the table, where Maire had set out tea for them.
Micah's smile widened further. "Yessir. From Scrub Rock, Texas. Born an' raised!"
"Fascinating!" Arthur exclaimed as he and Micah sat down with Albus and Molly. "Tell me, please. Is it true--what they say--that everything is bigger in Texas?"
Molly accepted the cup of tea from Albus, and sat quietly, listening to the men talk. She noticed the aromas filling the large room, and she looked around from below lowered lids. She turned when a small hand appeared on her arm.
"Hello. Ah'm Eileen. Wou'd ye like ta help me an' Maire? Me Seanmhair isnae up ta cookin'."
Molly's eyes seemed to brighten a bit, and a smile tugged at her lips. "I would love to, Eileen. And my name is Molly."
She rose from the table and followed the girl, who then introduced her to the young woman. Albus' eyes twinkled and he smiled into his cup as he watched his friends forget their sorrows--even if it was only for a short time. He excused himself and rose to go find the others and inform them that the elder Weasley's were here and they did not yet know about Harry.
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Ron slipped into Breen's room, a small tray balanced in one hand. Setting it on the small table by the window, he turned and watched the two men on the floor for a few moments, before making his presence known. Severus sat on the floormat, leaning against the end of the bed, his legs straight out. Breen was on his hands and knees over Severus' legs, perpendicular to his body. There was a light sheet thrown over Breen's lower half to maintain his modesty. Breen had his body tilted forward and slightly down, and he rocked slowly.
He stopped and moaned, signaling the beginning of another contraction, and laid the top part of his body down so it rested on Severus' legs, and rested his forehead on his crossed arms on the floor. It looked a bit odd with his arse up in the air, but Severus had easy access to deeply massage Breen's back where he wanted it the most. As Severus dug the heel of his hand into Breen's back, he leaned down to quietly coach him, as he ran the other hand over the dark hair and rubbed Breen's upper body gently in a soothing motion. Ron could sympathize wholeheartedly that anything, no matter how odd-looking, that made labour easier was worth doing.
He waited until Breen relaxed and returned to his hands and knees, before approaching them. "Severus, I've brought you dinner--per Lady MacLoed's instructions, and a small meal for Breen as well. I'm to relieve you so you can rest and eat."
"Very well." Severus leaned toward Breen, who was now perched in a flat-footed squat, the sheet wrapped around him. "I'll not be long." He briefly ran the back of his hand down Breen's cheek, then rose gracefully to his feet.
Ron immediately sat down where Severus had been, Breen's dinner in hand. "Alright there, Ha--Breen?"
"Yeah. Tired." Breen sat down, in what Ron thought resembled a yoga pose. He eyed the dishes in Ron's hands. "What did Ailey send for me?"
When Ron hesitated, Breen gave him a tired lopsided smile. "S'okay. I've got anywhere from seven to ten minutes before the next one."
Ron handed him the large mug. "She sent a broth with little bits of vegetables in it. Smells heavenly. Oh! And a small bowl of bits of cheese and fruit. She said you needed to stoke the fire." He grinned when he said that. "I'd have loved to have some of that broth when I was having Els."
Breen took a couple good sips from the mug and hummed in delight. The broth was delicious--as always. He hadn't even realized he was hungry until he smelled it. "I'm sure Ailey will give you the recipe for your Mum. I have a feeling you'll have other chances to use it." He winked at his best friend and went back to sipping the broth.
Ron looked at his friend oddly, then smiled when he realized what Breen had meant. "And Ailey said not to drink it all at once."
Breen frowned and handed the half empty mug back to Ron, who rose and took it and the bowl to the table. Brid came over and cast a low-level temperature spell over the food, and banished the empty dishes from a few hours ago, then nodded and smiled at Ron. He returned to the mat and sat back down.
"Still alright?" He asked, studying Breen's face for signs of pain.
"Yeah. It should be a tad bit yet."
"So we're both Dads now, yeah?"
"Yeah. Who'd have thought. I always figured it would be Moine, and we'd be the godfather's." Breen said as he shifted forward a bit and rubbed his belly.
"Yeah, 'bout that. Moine got cursed and they couldn't--"
Breen's eyes widened. "No!"
Ron nodded, sadness in his eyes. "She didn't take it so well, but since I had Els, they've been talking, and Dray and Nev are both willing to take the potion and carry at least one baby. Moines right chuffed about it too." He grinned.
"Wicked--OH!" Breen moved to his hands and knees, as Ron kneeled next to him and began massaging his back, and murmuring encouragement.
"I'm here with ya, Mate. Relax. Remember when Seamus brought that Moonweed back from Yule Hols, Seventh Year? Imagine ya just smoked a bunch of that, and your body is all limp and loose, yeah?"
"Mmmmhmmm..." Breen hummed in response.
"That sure was some wicked stuff! Was too bad he couldn't get more, though. It would have been great for the House parties."
"Indeed."
"Bugger!" Ron mumbled under his breath.
Severus sank down to sit cross-legged next to Ron. "Moonweed. A substandard strain of herbological hallucinogen. Now, in my Hogwarts days, the quality smoke was Amethyst's Dream--a Wizarding variant of the Muggle strain, Purple Haze."
Ron stared at Severus. "You?!"
Severus smirked at his former student. "Yes. We had quite the productive little crop going in Greenhouse Six, by the beginning of Seventh Year."
"There was no Greenhouse Six at Hogwarts, Sev'rus." Breen mumbled as he tried catching his breath, the contraction finally over.
He sat back in his previous position and eyed the older man.
Severus looked from one young man to the other, amusement clear on his face. "Not anymore."
"What--" Ron began, when they were interrupted by Renee'.
"It's time to check you again, Breen and see if the babies have moved to where they should be." She quirked an eyebrow at the two men sitting side-by-side next to her patient. They rose and moved over by the window. "Now, I can check you right here, or you can move to the bed. It is your preference and whatever would be more comfortable for you."
Tbc...
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PommeauThis liqueur aperitif is made by combining sweet cider at the start of its fermentation with apple brandy, in the proportions 2/3 to 1/3. Pommeau lives up to the promise of its golden hue: a flowery flavour with the sweetness of apples and warmth of the sun.
Chouchen = The Breton name for mead. This liqueur is known as "chemillard" in Gallic regions and "chouchen" in Brittany. An alcoholic drink based on honey and water with the addition of yeast, mead ferments rapidly but acquires its flavour slowly.
Mouton a la Cuillere = Seven Hour Mutton