12 Weeks
Harry returned to Dogwood Garden and jogged up to his room. He barely greeted Sirius as he passed the study and locked the door to his bedroom. He pushed open the window, fell atop his bed and stared at the darkened ceiling.
Hermione's pregnant. With his baby.
Our baby.
He slapped his hands over his face. "Our baby."
A baby.
How long did she know? Did she know before he left? Why didn't she tell him? He turned on to his side and stared at Hedwig's empty perch. That was so like her - not telling him so he wouldn't be distracted. If that is what she did.
Of course, that's what she did! Damn it, Hermione.
They were having a baby.
He didn't have a lot of experience with babies. Sure, he helped take care of Teddy when he was younger but it wasn't the same. After a few hours of visiting, Teddy would go back to his parents and was no longer Harry's responsibility.
A baby. Our baby.
Who will the baby look like? Are they going to have Hermione's thick hair or his green eyes?
Hedwig flew in through the window, taking her place at her perch. He watched as she groomed herself. Did Hermione even want to have kids? He wracked his mind but he couldn't remember if and when they ever talked about it.
He was going to be a father.
His chest tightened.
# # #
Harry groaned at the morning light and the chill that had settled in his bedroom. He barely got any sleep. He stared across the room and noticed Hedwig sleeping. At least one of them was resting well.
He slowly got up, got dressed for the day, and headed down for breakfast.
Sirius was already at the table, a plate filled with eggs, bacon, and sausages and a cup of coffee. He had the Daily Prophet spread open beside him. "Morning, Harry."
"Morning." Harry served himself some food and plopped down in the chair across from his godfather.
The clinks of silverware and the crackle of the newspaper were the only sounds at the table. Harry could hardly taste his food and his head hurt. Yesterday, he was dreading the mandatory four days off work, but maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. It gave him time to recover.
And think.
"You alright, Harry?"
Harry looked up from his food and into his godfather's concerned eyes. "Fine, just tired."
Sirius didn't seem convinced but nodded. "Honestly, what good is it working at the ministry if you're always tired. I wonder if Hermione's doing alright."
"Hermione?" Harry sat up. "You saw her?"
Sirius shook his head. "Not since Teddy's birthday party."
Harry shoveled down the rest of his eggs, chugged his orange juice and left his used dishes in the sink. "I'm heading out."
"Off to see her?" Sirius couldn't help grinning.
"No," Harry walked toward the fireplace, "just going for a walk around London."
"London? Why not take in the country air? Harry?"
"See you later!" Harry rushed out the front door and disapparated.
Living in the countryside with Sirius, they hardly used Grimmauld Place unless they wanted to access central London. As usual, Grimmauld Place was silent. It remained clean and pest-free thanks to Sirius's enchantments. But it was empty and quiet. Kreacher had passed away years ago, following the events of the war. Most days, Harry thought good riddance, but the old house-elf was useful towards the end.
Besides, He'd never hear the end of it from Hermione.
Hermione.
Hermione's pregnant. With their baby.
He stepped out of Grimmauld Place and headed down the sidewalk to turn onto the main road. He could already hear the bustle of cars. Maybe all the commotion could help clear his head.
It was chilly and fairly crowded for a Thursday morning, but Harry hardly minded. It was nice to blend into the crowd. Walking through London, he was like any other bloke - running errands, minding his own business.
A thrill of giggles and squeals erupted from the store next to him.
He turned and from the window, he could see two small kids chasing each other around a clothing rack.
He hurried past the window and entered the first store that had an open sign. Someone called out a cheerful 'welcome'.
A bookstore. Probably one of the last places he wanted to be, but he might as well look around. He stopped at the first display table.
He puffed out his cheeks. It was all children's books. Picture and board books. He picked up a familiar book - letters falling out of a palm tree. He quickly flipped through the pages.
"Good morning, is there anything I can help you with?" An older woman stepped up to him.
He slammed the book back down. "I'm just looking around, thanks."
"Of course. There's a larger selection in the back of the store if you're interested."
He nodded and stepped away from the clerk. He walked toward the back and came across another display table, this one filled with parenting books. He picked up the closest book and flipped through the pages.
You're pregnant, congratulations! - the first trimester - the second trimester - guideline on when to tell your loved ones.
He set the book down. "I wonder if Hermione has any of these books."
A scramble of kids ran past him and toward the children's section of the store.
"Storytime in five minutes!" Someone announced.
A small group of women and men walked past him. A tall man walked closest to him, holding a brown-haired baby, the little one's arms pumping up and down in the air.
He sucked in a deep breath.
Once they walked past, he slowly crept closer. This could be his future. Bringing his son or daughter to storytime at the bookstore or library. He was sure Hermione would love to do something like that.
Storytime. Going to the park. Trips to the zoo. Would they like Quidditch as he did? Maybe they'd get into muggle sports like football or rugby.
Merlin, not rugby. It's too violent.
He turned and found himself facing a shelf filled with stuffed animals. Owls. Bears. Whales. Rabbits. He grabbed a nutbrown rabbit, rubbing its soft ear between his fingers. He read the words embroidered on its belly. I love you to the moon and back.
He traced the letters. They were having a baby. Whether he was ready or not. The baby wasn't going to wait for him to not be scared or worried.
Because that's what was pressing down on him, smothering him and pooling in his stomach - fear.
He wasn't ready, but when is anyone really ready? But little one was coming. Ten little fingers and ten little toes. Baby soft hair and the new baby smell.
He rubbed the rabbit's belly again. In the back of his mind, he had wondered (not often, as it often depressed him) whether this would ever happen. If he'd ever have the chance to be a father.
Now it's sprung upon him and he was scared as hell.
He took a deep breath. He had to see Hermione. He had to see her before he'd messed this all up completely.
# # #
Harry shifted nervously on Hermione's doorstep. He had spent most of his day walking around Islington and going to the bakery to pick up the pastries she liked. Then, he returned to Grimmauld Place to pace and think some more. He had to figure out what to say to her without sounding one) horrible or two) like a prat.
He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He tapped his fingers against the pastry box and waited with bated breath.
A few minutes later the door opened a sliver. Crookshanks appeared in the doorway. He looked at the cat quizzically. The ginger-haired cat sat down and stared at him. "Uh, Crookshanks, is Hermione home?"
He heard a soft scoff. The door opened completely and Hermione appeared before him. "At least give me a chance to open the door." She avoided his eyes and turned her attention to the box in his hands.
He fumbled with the box, holding it out for her. "I brought this for you. Are you busy? Can we talk?"
She took the offered box. She sighed softly, stepped back and walked further into her flat. Crookshanks padded silently after her.
Harry stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
"That's enough, Crookshanks," Hermione's voice was low. She set the pastry box down on her kitchen table and opened it. Her eyes twinkled at the sight of the muffins and cheese danishes. She grabbed a danish. She walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed the milk.
Harry entered the kitchen and went straight to the cupboard that held the glasses. He took the milk and poured her a glass.
"Thanks," she mumbled.
She bit into her danish and moved back into the sitting room, sitting down on her sofa. He watched her unbutton the top buttons of her blouse. She probably just got home from work. He came around the sofa and sat down beside her. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine." She sighed.
His eyes roamed over her face.
"Well, I am," she continued, "for the most part. But, I've been so tired lately. I'm throwing up all the time. I can't eat turkey or beef. I can't even smell it without wanting to throw up and my boobs have been hurting all week."
He grimaced. "Sorry."
She stuffed the rest of the cheese danish in her mouth. "What for? It's not like it's your fault."
He shifted. "Well, isn't it?"
She turned to face him. Her hair was piled on top of her head, but a few baby hairs sprang out, making her look annoyed and rather cute. "It's not your fault, Harry. It's no one's fault."
"How did you find out?" He asked without thinking.
"I was feeling weird. Dizzy. Nauseous. At Teddy's birthday party, Tonks and Fleur were talking about the symptoms they experienced when they were pregnant. I started to wonder."
"Hermione, that was almost a month ago."
"I know, I know. I just couldn't believe it. I couldn't be pregnant. But I was feeling nauseous and felt more tired than usual. So, I bought some pregnancy tests. They came back positive, but I still couldn't believe it. But, I took more and I didn't know for sure until a few days before you left." She reached to grab his hand but decided against it, returning her hand to her lap. "I was trying to figure out a way to tell you. I'm sorry it took me so long."
He ran his hand through his hair. "Have you told anyone else?"
"No, of course not. I wanted to tell you first." She took a sip of her milk. "I wanted to tell my parents after my first appointment."
He gripped his knees. "Right. About that, I was wondering if I can go with you."
"You want to come to my appointment?"
He swallowed. "Yes, I mean, if I can. If you want me too. I'd like to be there."
"Really?" She breathed out.
He turned slightly, his knee bumping into hers. "Yes, I want to do this with you, Hermione. I want to be at every appointment. Help get ready. Help you, be there for our baby."
She grabbed his hand this time, her eyes glistening. "You mean that? So, you're not mad?"
He tugged her hand, pulling it to his chest. "How could I be mad? Never mad, but I am scared."
She nodded. "I'm terrified."
He let go of her hand. "I got this for you. Well, for the baby." He stuffed his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out the nutbrown rabbit he bought from the bookstore.
"Harry, it's so cute." She squeezed it and rubbed its ears. "Thank you."
He reached over and squeezed her thigh. "This is unconventional, having a baby like this, but we can do it."
Her relieved smile eased the weight he felt on his chest.
A sheepish grin came to his face. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly. He felt her arms wrap around his waist and he let out a deep breath. He laid his head atop hers as she nestled further into his hold.
Yes. They can do this. Together.
