CHAPTER 26
FOLLOWING the fiasco of ensuring that Ollie was allowed to keep his job, that her family could live their lives in peace and not be hounded by the rest of the wizarding world, life in Great Britain settled into almost a peaceful dream for Pansy, with George right by her side.
Their days were spent happily working in George's joke shop together, and anxiously awaiting the birth of Pansy's new godchild as Norah's pregnancy progressed.
Lyall Lupin's efforts to extract the Obscurus from Ollie's soul were proven to be a success after two months of various consulting appointments, ensuring that Ollie was strong enough to undergo the procedure that had proven to be one for the history books, if only Bathilda Bagshot were still alive to record such a monumental occasion.
Pansy thought the old witch would have liked to have seen the wizard she had once conversed with, years ago, living a happy and fulfilling life away from Jack's influence.
But as it was, the surgery was a secretive procedure, with no one allowed in the Ward save for the Healers assigned to assist Lyall with whatever Remus's father happened to need during their attempt to save Ollie's life.
Neither Norah nor Pansy had been allowed inside the secure ward of St. Mungo's during the dangerous procedure.
Lyall refused to speak of the complex and taxing procedure that had managed to save Ollie's life, becoming tight-lipped and angry, claiming that he never hoped to use such Dark magic again, though his efforts were a success.
Though the entity upon being removed from the man had very nearly killed Remus's father in the process, the expert on Non-Spirituous Apparitions alongside old famed Magizoologist Newt Scamander encased it in a trap, a bubble of sorts, which the white-haired wizard locked away in his suitcase that was his magical menagerie, for study, Dumbledore's former friend claimed.
Following the successful procedure, the wizard was forced to spend well over three weeks in a private room in St. Mungo's while his body recovered.
The taxed Auror was put through a series of physical as well as mental examinations to determine if the man was fit to re-enter society after such a physically taxing ordeal.
It was a trying time for everyone involved, but especially for Ollie, Norah, and Pansy, even their family's house-elf, Vimly, continuously tried to fret over her Master.
When the elf wasn't allowed in yet to see Ollie, she turned her overbearing and over-protective attentions towards Mistress Norah and fretted over her and her pregnancy.
Pansy could tell Norah was annoyed by the house-elf's consistent attentions but recognized it was the little creature's way of coping, and so, for better or worse, she let their family's house-elf have her peace of mind, and said nothing.
Pansy, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Ginny, and Norah especially, were all confident that Ollie would fight through the inevitable fever that proceeded rather quickly the following morning after the procedure, but nevertheless, Pansy and Norah did not remove themselves from the ward.
The two preferred to stay close by, knowing Ollie wasn't out of danger yet.
And where Pansy stayed, so did George. During the worst of the wizard's fever, through rare moments of consciousness, the cuss words that were ripped from Ollie Brennan's lips never failed to echo and stir the troubled patients that lived within the same ward in which the man was recovering.
Such foul language was a result of the immense pain that he was under, that no magic or copious amounts of a Sleeping Draught could help him combat it.
Mr. Weasley at one point had been forced to throw up a Muffliato Silencing Charm around the door, as George's father was at a loss as to how Ollie's Healer could have forgotten and had neglected such an important issue.
On one such occasion, Mr. Weasley very nearly forcefully removed Pansy from the hallway outside of Ollie's room, for he was sure a young witch like Pansy did not need to hear such vulgar language that would rival that of Ron's when his son thought he and his mother weren't listening.
But the steadfast witch swiftly, yet politely explained to Mr. Weasley that she'd heard far worse and had said far worse.
Nevertheless, this alarmed both Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley to the extent that George's parents offered to tend to Ollie instead of Norah and Pansy by his side.
However, it soon became quickly apparent that even with the Obscurus removed from Ollie's soul, his wife was the only one who could successfully subdue the man, and until he was well again, no one else but Norah would be allowed inside.
Ollie was eventually recovered and released after his three weeks were up and the Healers and Lyall cleared him, though it was on the day that Norah went into labor that trouble brewed for Pansy and her family once more.
Pansy and George were just returning from The Leaky Cauldron after having lunch together when they'd gotten the Patronus from Ollie, the man's desperate voice in his message saying that Norah had gone into labor and wanted Pansy by her side, alongside Mrs. Weasley when there came the inevitable sounds of shouting from the distance, just over the grassy embankment.
Alarmed, both Pansy and George looked toward the source of the disturbance.
The couple managed to compose themselves, just as Hermione came over the hillside, looking winded.
"Mrs. Weasley sent me to fetch you, says you've taken too long, Pansy," Hermione commented with a sniff that sounded as though she did not approve of Mrs. Weasley's actions.
Hermione quietly explained to George and Pansy that Mrs. Weasley was fussing and becoming somewhat overbearing as Norah had gone into labor a little less than an hour ago when her water had broken while Ollie was escorting her on a walk through the countryside of Ottery St. Catchpole for a little bit of fresh air.
Between Mrs. Weasley, Vimly, and Ollie fretting over her, Norah was becoming high-strung and extremely stressed, and Hermione feared one more stressful thought to the former Order member would cause complications for her.
"Yes, yes, I...I was about to...I—I understand. Thanks for letting us know, Hermione, I'll see if I can get George's mum to back off and Ollie too, Norah needs her rest. And I…I hate to ask this of you, b-but…would you do me a huge favor, Granger?" she asked, as a thought came to her. She could not help remembering the awkward encounter from a few months prior with Skeeter, and the remembrance of seeing Norah and Ollie's shared memories in the Pensieve.
She was sure the poison pen tabloid reporter would make do with her threats to publish her tell-all book on Ollie's family's history and wanted to do whatever she could to ensure it hits the shelves.
Pansy bristled, grinding her teeth at the thought of such a slanderous piece of trash becoming available for sale in Flourish and Blotts and Merlin knew where else, for the public to know her family's history, the good parts…and the bad parts.
"Of course," Hermione said, looking surprised, but she quickly recovered and fingered her wand, waiting for her request.
Pansy nodded, grateful for her friend's help, glad that Hermione and Ginny had come round, though it had taken the witches time to fully trust her, once the two could see for herself how much she cared for George, now they thought of her as a sister to them almost and apologized for their past behavior to her during school.
Pansy exhaled slowly and looked toward the grassy calm horizon of the countryside, at peace, but she could not ignore the nagging pulling in her chest.
"If any reporters or anything should come calling on my cousin, don't you dare tell them a word. I'm sure Ron or Harry or someone has probably filled you in on what's been happening, but if they haven't, Rita popped by here one afternoon. Months ago now, but she was hoping to get dirt on Ollie's family, because of what he is. Was," she quietly corrected herself, with a curt shake of her head. "His story is the kind of tragic story the public eats up," Pansy growled, scrunching her nose in disgust. "I"m not giving that fucking bitch a single thing to use against us. Not if I can help it. If she comes, don't tell anyone anything. If you see her, let me know. If Skeeter pops by, then she's going to wish that she would have stayed away from us by the time I finish with her. I'll jinx her so hard, she'll be lucky to remember her own name," Pansy growled, an ugly look flitting across her face.
Hermione looked momentarily taken aback at the mention of Rita Skeeter, but then she nodded curtly, showing she understood, and then pocketed her wand.
"I understand," she remarked quietly, nodding the affirmative. "She won't be getting in, and I won't say a word," Hermione promised Pansy passionately, shooting George an odd look. "Ginny and I will stay outside and keep an eye out for anything odd. Your cousin, er…made it perfectly clear that she only wants you around right now," Hermione called out as Pansy took George by the hand and began to walk up towards the front of the Burrow.
Tension met Pansy and George when they reached the topmost floor of the Burrow, in Bill's old room that Mrs. Weasley looked to have cleared out since her eldest son and his wife had popped by shortly after they'd married to pick up the rest of the belongings.
She had since transformed the room into a spare bedroom for guests that was warm and comfortable-looking.
Though 'comfortable' was not at all how she'd describe the atmosphere right now.
Her gaze was fixated on her cousin's husband. The highly intelligent and skilled, if not cocky Auror had always prided himself on the cold if the not slightly calculating manner in which he approached even the most horrific challenge.
Pansy was surprised to find Ollie almost shaken to tears, as all the wizard could do was hold his wife's hand as Norah sagged against his neck.
Ollie nodded stiffly in recognition to both Pansy and George as he lowered Norah onto the bed, the two of them having been pacing the room at Mrs. Weasley's command.
Apparently, getting up and walking around would help bring the baby faster.
Poor Norah looked like she was in agony, as her breaths came to her in shallow bursts, struggling bravely against the wails that threatened to erupt from her throat without warning.
"Nor, Ollie, what can we do?" Pansy pleaded, wishing she could help and not knowing how.
Norah opened her mouth to answer, though whatever her cousin had been about to say was interrupted by a harsh contraction that caused her back to arch, and her vice grip on her husband's hands nearly broke Ollie's fingers.
Norah threw her head back against the pillows and gritted her teeth, trying to fight against the scream she desperately wanted to let out.
Ollie knelt beside his wife, his grip unswerving, though he flinched at the pain in his fingers, he ignored it as he stroked back stray wisps of Norah's hair that was drenched in sweat and tenderly kissed her temple.
"Don't try to be brave, babe, there's a reason you were Sorted into Ravenclaw and not Gryffindor," he told her jokingly, though Pansy could hear his voice shaking with panic to see his beloved wife in such physical pain. "Scream all you want if you need to," he said, his body practically trembling with the will that Ollie was trying to give her.
Norah shook her head, lifting her gaze to smile affectionately at Ollie before returning her gaze to Pansy.
"I'll be fine," she gasped. "We will be fine, all of us," Norah promised as if speaking the words would make it so. "Pan, I—I'm glad you're here. Just…stay with me. George, you don't have to be here for this," she chuckled tiredly, a twinkling sheen forming in the witch's blue eyes as she took note of how George's face had gone green.
Pansy noticed and gave George's arm an affectionate squeeze.
"Why don't you go outside and help Ginny and Hermione keep watch? I'll be just fine. Norah's got me, Mrs. Weasley, and Ollie. I'll be fine."
George nodded silently, looking like if he opened his mouth, he would be sick.
He fled downstairs, eager to help his sister and his brother's girlfriend keep watch and away from the witch's work of childbirth.
Almost the moment George fled to help Ginny and Hermione, there came a knock at the door.
Mrs. Weasley darted forward to open the door, revealing an elderly Healer, but the man had kind eyes and a quiet voice.
He introduced himself as Theron Ibex, a Healer who had seen Norah brought into this world when she was a wee babe, and a family friend of Norah's mother, Merlin bless her soul.
Pansy and Ollie both took notice of how the aged old warlock's presence seemed to calm Norah as he reached out his palm for Norah's free hand not gripping tightly onto Ollie's for support and squeezed Norah's fingers reassuringly.
"Not to worry, Mrs. Brennan," the old wizard smiled in a warm manner. "I brought you into this world, it seems so long ago," he sighed wistfully. "We'll see your baby safely born today as well, dear."
Norah nodded and nestled comfortingly against the pillow. She smiled at the old Healer, and then at Ollie.
Her reaction thankfully allowed Ollie to relax as well.
Though a few minutes had only passed, Norah felt another pain take hold of her entire body, causing her to tense up, her face twisting into a pained look as she could feel the baby moving down in her hips.
"I can feel it, he's moved down in my hips," she announced to the small group gathered around her bedside through gritted teeth as she closed her eyes.
Pansy smiled, remembering what Verity had said about Norah and Ollie's son growing up to become best friends with Teddy Remus Lupin, Harry's godchild, but kept silent, recognizing that it was not her place to say a word.
To the best of her knowledge, she wasn't sure if Norah and Ollie had found out their baby's gender yet and did not want to spoil that for them.
"Don't fight it, Norah, dear," Molly reminded Norah softly. "Let your body do its work on its own," she soothed, then proceeded to run her fingers up and down Norah's thighs, kneading the knots out of the much younger witch's sore muscles, relaxing her as Norah's contraction went on.
"It won't be long now, dearie," Molly smiled up at Norah and encouraged Pansy with a jerk of her head to take Norah's opposite side of the bed and hold her hand. "A few more and you'll be holding your wee baby in your arms, my dear."
She smiled excitedly and gave a knowing little smile towards the Healer, who was standing over the bed supervising matters.
The old man returned it with a calm and pleasant smile with an assuring little nod.
Norah gazed hopefully at Ollie, who kissed her hair, wound his left arm underneath hers, and continued to hold her close.
Mrs. Weasley's news seemed to energize Norah, Pansy noticed curiously.
She took a moment to catch her breath and latched one hand firmly onto Ollie's, and the other around Pansy's hand.
Tensing with the needful force that she could feel building inside her, Norah cast a pleading look towards Mrs. Weasley and the Healer.
Mrs. Weasley and the old warlock both tilted their heads excitedly and with an encouraging nod of their heads, gestured for Norah to take the lead.
Pansy looked towards Molly, utterly terrified, though Mrs. Weasley's strange expression of serene calmness that had settled over the matronly woman's features, strangely enough, put Pansy well at ease.
She felt some of the tension in her shoulders dissipate, and breathed slowly through her nose, shoving aside thoughts of her own discomfort to the pit of her stomach.
She knew getting anxious would not help Norah here. Norah and Ollie both needed her to help keep Norah calm now.
Mrs. Weasley spoke, pulling Pansy from her thoughts and startling Pansy.
"Your body knows what to do, dear," Molly told Norah, shooting Norah a smile.
Norah nodded bravely, squeezing her eyes shut, and drew in a gulp of air.
She could wait no longer, her body needing its first good hard push. She bore down with all of her might, gritting her teeth, and groaning loudly over the immense burning pain that now ravaged her body.
The feeling of the baby moving down in her hips inspired her to keep on. Norah strained with the effort to bring her baby to life with all the strength her exhausted body could manage to muster. Proudly, she felt Ollie lean against her.
"Push, Norah, push! That's it, babe, Nor, you're—you're doing so great, push!" he cried, trying to will some of his own magic and strength into his tired wife.
She groaned her answer. Norah tried to stop when she ran out of air for her burning lungs, only to hear the Healer order her to take in another breath and to keep pushing. Again, she gritted her teeth and complied.
She felt a little bit of movement, and her body began to burn, worse than dragon fire, as the baby moved downward. When the spasm subsided, she was left aching and gasping for breath that would not come to her.
"Keep going, Norah!" Pansy chirped, hoping to still some encouragement in her cousin and give her some of her strength, sensing that Norah's strength was fading, fast.
Norah looked over at Pansy, and Pansy could only smile through her worry and gripped the Veela's hand even tighter.
Her own body leaving her no other choice, Norah complied.
Over and over again, she forced her body's muscles to push the baby that her and Ollie's love had created towards life, stopping only long enough to catch her breath.
She was so focused on her ordeal that she did not even hear her screams echoing within the room or see Mrs. Weasley dart away from the edge of the bedside to throw up a Silencing Charm around the room's door.
All she was aware of was the feeling of Pansy's hand gripping onto hers and no time to marvel at the strength of her cousin's grip.
She latched onto Ollie's voice, her husband was her beacon, his excited and urgent voice coaxing her through the painful ordeal.
Over and over again, she pushed, until she feared the baby might never come out.
Collapsing back against Ollie, Norah searched her husband's face through the haze that was beginning to overtake her blurry vision. Finding the man's concerned blue eyes, she started to cry.
"I—I don't think I can do this, I can't, Ol," she told him, quietly crying, her chest heaving as Norah gasped for oxygen.
"Yes, you can, keep going, babe, it's almost over," Ollie firmly told her. His wife was strong and brave, as fierce as any Gryffindor lioness and he'd not let her lose hope. Not now. Not when they were so close to meeting their son or daughter for the first time. "You're my wife, honey. Norah Elisabeth Brennan, you're the strongest witch I know and you're going to do this, and you're going to be just fine," he reminded her, his voice choking with emotion.
Norah shook her head and tried to catch her breath, not even trying to push anymore as another contraction ripped through the blonde Veela's body. She was practically in shock from the pain.
"Pansy, come here dear, please," Molly called for her. Pansy nervously let go of Norah's hand and shuffled to the edge of the bed. Molly motioned for her to kneel in front of her on the stool in front of Norah's bent knees.
Pansy nervously looked to Norah and then to Ollie, as if to confirm to her family that such an intimate view of her cousin was acceptable, though her face turned green. Both about-to-be-new parents nodded their silent agreement.
"You're going to catch it when it comes out," Mrs. Weasley smiled at her son's girlfriend.
Pansy immediately shook her head. She was willing to hold Norah's hand, but this had not been on her radar.
"Me?" she gasped, shocked. "I—I can't! Am I—am I supposed to touch it, am I allowed to touch it, what if I hurt it?"
Seeing Pansy's stricken and apprehensive look of disgust, she turned firm.
"Nonsense, dearie." Mrs. Weasley scoffed. "You're not going to hurt it. Now get ready, dear. We need an extra set of hands for this next part," she told Pansy. "Besides," Mrs. Weasley added, flicking her gaze towards Norah, whose forehead was burrowed against Ollie's as the man was whispering soothing remarks into her ear, trying to will his wife to find her strength as she quietly cried, her shoulders wracking with soft sobs. "Norah needs you to be brave, she needs your help." Mrs. Weasley turned a kind smile to Norah. "Let's get this baby out of you, Luv," she said happily to which Norah nodded, sniffling against her tears, feeling the urge to push again already coming.
Norah leaned her head back against Ollie and drew in a deep breath.
She closed her eyes, lowering her chin forward to her chest, and pushed with all of her strength she had left to give, she was so close, and she bloody knew it.
Her whole body was on fire, and she thought she could feel herself tearing, but she did not stop. She could not. Not with so precious a prize so close at stake right now.
"That's it," the old Healer warbled quietly. "Do not stop, Mrs. Brennan."
"I...I can't," she all but screamed, near shock, but Ollie shook his head, not willing to let his wife give up so easily.
"Push!" Ollie tried to help his wife. "Push, Nor, keep going, it's almost over, honey!" he cried in a commanding tone, the same one he used for Potter when instructing Harry on how to do a particular administrative task for the Auror Department.
He wanted his wife's agony to be over and was increasingly excited to meet their baby.
"Push!" Ollie yelled, in his excitement he'd not even realized his orders were becoming louder and more urgent. "Push!" he commanded again as Norah bore down again.
"I AM PUSHING, OLLIE!" she screamed at him, losing her concentration for a moment, and began to cry.
He calmed himself in order to help her. He had not meant to calm her any distress.
"I know, babe, I'm sorry," he soothed, rubbing onto her leg. "But keep going, sweetheart, stop crying and look into my eyes. One more good push, keep going, and we'll meet our baby, Norah," he pleaded quietly.
Norah nodded, leaning her head back and breathed deeply, and then bent forward. Her jaws clenched as she strained to bring their child into the world.
She pushed with all her might and felt the baby's head leave her body.
Pansy moved her fingers to support the baby's neck at the instruction of the Healer and Mrs. Weasley.
Norah let out an anguished scream of agony as she pushed out the baby's shoulders. Her hands clung to Ollie's hands, probably breaking every bone in both his hands as she braced herself for one last strong push.
"It's coming, Norah, babe, you're doing it, Luv," Ollie smiled, the smile her husband graced her with now made the man look years younger than Norah had ever seen him.
Ollie radiated with hope and happiness at the thought of meeting their child.
Norah never once took her eyes off Ollie's face as she drew in an agonized breath and pushed one last time.
Pansy's dread quietly turned into excitement and a happy smile found her face as she watched baby Brennan slowly emerge.
"Oh, Norah!" she squealed happily. "It's almost here, Nor, I can see the head, it has black hair, just like its father, keep pushing, keep going!"
Norah was by this point in her labor, having been in labor now for fourteen hours, nearly delirious, as the trauma of her ordeal began to take over her efforts.
The witch was no longer in control of her own body as her muscles worked forcefully to bring her and Ollie's baby into the world.
Finally, the last notes of the raw and violent scream that expelled from Norah's throat were replaced by the miraculous sound of their child's first angry and healthy cry.
"It's a boy, you two! Oh, he's beautiful, guys, congratulations!" Pansy laughed with delight as she held up the wriggling and crying infant that was her new godson to the baby's delighted parents.
"I...I have a son..." Ollie breathed as though he could not quite believe it and the man looked it too.
The fears of the boy's mother and father faded, replaced by joyful beaming white smiles.
Norah's cries of pain gave way to happy sobs, her ordeal already fading into a distant memory as Pansy darted forward to lay the newborn infant in his mother's waiting arms only after the baby's cord had been cut with a Severing Charm from the Healer.
Norah nestled contentedly back into Ollie's embrace and cradled their brand-new son close to her heart.
Ollie showered kisses on Norah's face, over her neck, anywhere the Auror could reach, and into her hair, until the proud new father lost his grip on what remained of his self-control and wept happily over the birth of his first child, a son, a fine young wizard in the making already.
Tenderly, his fingers brushed against the baby's soft wet head, slick still with blood and residue, but to Ollie, their son was perfect.
His first thought was how much the baby shared his features. A thick tuft of black peach fuzz covered their baby's head. His hair, but when the baby would open his eyes, their son would reveal a set of brilliant deep blue eyes that came from both of his parents. He had Norah's nose, his facial structure, and her ears.
"He's perfect," Pansy declared, catching her cousin's attention as Norah looked up at her cousin, her expression positively radiant.
"He is," she whispered, exhausted, relaxing into Ollie's affections as her husband tenderly caressed her cheek, drawing her attention back towards him for just a moment. "We did it, Ollie," she gasped, reaching up a hand to stroke his face, to which Ollie responded by nestling his forehead against hers, in awe.
"I love you, Norah, so much," he told his wife, not bothering to hide the joyful tears that slipped from the edges of his lids just then.
Mrs. Weasley and Pansy worked at the foot of Norah's bedside to help the witch finish her delivery.
Reluctantly, the Healer awkwardly cleared his throat to draw attention to himself. He stood a few paces away from Norah's bed, watching the tender-hearted scene with a warm look.
"Mrs. Brennan," he said softly in as respectable tone as he could manage. "I should examine your son and clean him. He won't be gone from your arms but for a moment and then I will return him to you."
Norah's tear-filled blue eyes washed over her squirming bundle of joy, saddened at the thought of giving him up even for a second.
But she knew the old warlock was right, and only asked that she do so out of care for her son.
She raised her eyes to Ollie as if to convince her husband that their child would be just fine.
Slowly, reluctantly, Norah relinquished the squirming, squalling bundle in her arms to ensure all was well.
Ollie clung to his wife even more tightly, hoping to fill the void he was sure Norah felt.
The old Healer's elderly and wrinkled hands were surprisingly sure as he lifted the baby from his mother and began his examination. .
Pansy and the baby's parents looked on in anxious anticipation. Already on the alert to any need in their child, Ollie, and Norah soon relaxed, however, when they saw just how diligently and careful the Healer was handling their son.
When he had finished, the kind Healer shot Norah a proud smile.
"This is the healthiest little wizard I've ever seen brought into this world, my dear," he announced, approvingly. "You've done remarkably, Mrs. Brennan," he remarked.
Norah cocked her head against Ollie's shoulder and quirked a brow at the Healer who had been by her mother's side the night that she had been born.
"But you saw me to life, sir," she teased, smiling at him, though her facial muscles ached.
"Yes, my dear, I'm aware." The old wizard lowered his head. "But you weren't so robust as this fine young son you have born," he recalled. "You, Mrs. Brennan, were quite tiny and a frail little thing," he described, letting out a soft chuckle.
Norah smiled as she felt Ollie smile in amusement.
"I don't believe my Norah was ever tiny, sir, no offense," he grinned happily.
"Oh, I can assure you, Mr. Brennan, she was," he remarked, raising his chin with sincerity. "She was also quite a fussy baby."
Ollie laughed heartily at the revelation.
"That, sir, I think I can believe," he beamed and planted a playful kiss into Norah's hair as she jokingly swatted his arm.
In no time at all, Ollie was shoved out of the way as the Healer and Mrs. Weasley and Pansy, along with Ginny and Hermione, with Harry having been left outside to watch the house for any signs of reporters wishing to further intrude into the Brennan's lives, all of them doting on and squealing over Norah and baby Brennan.
Ollie would have balked at being separated from his wife, though now with the Obscurial removed from his body, he simply stood quietly off to the side and did not get in the way.
He watched carefully as the witches and the wizened old Healer bustled about the spare bedroom, discarding the borrowed St. Mungo's robe Ollie had brought in her bag that the patients wore, changed her clothes, and magically replaced the bloodied sheets on the bed, never once requiring Norah to get up out of the bed.
Once Norah was dressed and prepared for the aftermath of bleeding that was to come, the baby cleaned off the residue of her delivery and swaddled into a set of light baby blue blankets, their son was returned to Norah's arms by Pansy, who smiled.
"What will his name be?" Pansy asked sweetly, while Hermione and Ginny hovered in the open doorway.
Ollie and Norah exchanged a sly little look with one another, still relishing in their secret.
"We've chosen a name to honor Ollie's brother," Norah began, beaming proudly. "And our family, Pan," she continued, taking the baby to her breast, and letting her son feed, all the while trying to fight the fatigue that was already beginning to set in, just a moment longer.
"What is it?" Pansy crooned, reaching out to let the tiny little baby grab her pinky.
Norah lowered her gaze to stare adoringly at her and Ollie's child.
"His name is Dominic, Pan. Dominic John Brennan. John for our uncle. He was always kind to us, remember he used to sneak us Chocolate Frogs when your mum wasn't looking during the family reunions?" she teased in a proud voice.
Pansy nodded as she gasped, delighted. "It's a perfect name for him, you lot. I think he likes it," she declared, watching her new godson wriggle and squirm in his mum's arms.
"I think he does," Ollie agreed, seeing Mrs. Weasley stifle a yawn out of the corner of his eye.
Mrs. Weasley had been a godsend, an important part of one of the best days of his life, perhaps even surpassing the day he met Norah, and he was sure Arthur's wife was tired.
Most importantly, he could see Norah already beginning to drift and wanted her to rest.
The Healer was finished with his work, gathering his briefcase and preparing to return to his office.
He quietly approached the proud little family and looked approvingly at the scene.
"The snow's letting up outside," he smiled. "I think I will be on my way now, if it pleases you, Mr. and Mrs. Brennan," he said.
"May I walk you back to St. Mungo's?" Ollie offered, already moving to stand up.
"No." He refused, and waved a gnarled hand in Ollie's direction, bidding him to sit. "I can manage on my own, sir, but thank you for the offer. You stay here and enjoy all of this," he ordered, pointing to Norah and Pansy and their son.
Norah's parents' friend reached out and patted his shoulder. Ollie nodded and smiled in understanding. Then he cast his eyes toward Norah.
"I'll come round your place tomorrow to check on the both of you, mum."
Norah smiled weakly and gratefully.
"Thank you," she sighed, her voice hoarse and her throat raw from her screaming.
"Get some rest, my dear. You've earned it, and you're going to need it with your little one," the Healer told her, and then straightened his robes around his shoulders, and quietly slipped out the doorway, leaving the Brennans and Pansy alone for a moment.
Pansy quietly watched as Ollie sat back down next to Norah at the head of the bed.
He scooped his wife into his arms, their son already quietly asleep in his mother's arms.
"He's sleeping, Nor," Ollie whispered. "The Healer was right. You need to sleep," he urged, planting a loving kiss on his son's forehead.
"I don't want to sleep, Ol," Norah smiled up at her husband, dark shadows of exhaustion settling into the skin beneath her eyes. "I don't want to miss anything. I want to be here to cherish every moment. What if he needs me?" She beamed, lifting the baby to kiss baby Dominic's forehead, and then leaned against Ollie, closing her eyes.
"Norah, I think you should listen to your husband. For once," Pansy couldn't resist teasing her cousin. "I think you'll have plenty of time for that. Besides, baby Brennan here will probably need you again in a few hours. You should get some sleep while you can. I'll head downstairs and tell the others your good news if that's okay?" she offered.
Norah's expression brightened and she nodded her agreement only after Ollie gave his consent.
Happy to share her family's good news with the rest of the people she cared about, Pansy made to head downstairs, though froze in her tracks at the sound of shouting coming from outside the Burrow.
"Merlin's Beard, now what?" Pansy moaned, darting towards the window to look.
Ollie bolted upright from his spot on the edge of his wife's bed, bristling at the intimate moment alone with his wife and newborn son was interrupted, his blue eyes darkening, almost cerulean in color, as he angrily stalked towards the door.
The man had just reached the doorway when, much to everyone's shock and surprise, Rita Skeeter stood in the doorway, her glittering eyes behind her jeweled glasses searching for her intended target.
Pansy whirled on her heels with a gasp and frowned, though Rita took no notice of her.
"How in the fuck...?" Pansy swore, hardly daring to believe it.
When her eyes came to rest on Ollie's pale complexion, how he seethed, the edges of her lips curled up in a smile.
"I do believe congratulations are in order, Auror Brennan, I'd hoped to get a shot of your wee little babe before you flee the country," Rita Skeeter crooned in a simpering voice that immediately reminded Pansy of Dolores Umbridge.
Pansy's blood burned as she watched the journalist eye Norah perched against the pile of pillows.
The color was drained from her face, and Norah was eyeing the journalist with no small amount of hatred in her eyes as she clutched her infant to her chest, as though shielding him.
Standing angrily and blocking the tabloid reporter's path, Ollie moved so that his tall frame kept the view of his exhausted wife and his new child from view.
"Skeeter, my angel. You're looking as lovely as always. You look like you just swallowed a Wrackspurt," Ollie sneered in as mean a tone as he could muster. "And what are you talking about, witch? My wife and I aren't going anywhere. We're staying here in England, Rita. What the hell are you doing here? How did you get inside?" Ollie seethed at her, only barely able to contain his full fury. His lips parted as if to say something further.
Though before the man could draw his wand and raise it against her in a threatening manner, George and Harry came barreling up the stairs.
Harry moved and rudely nudged aside Rita Skeeter, purposefully jostling the older witch as best he could and ignoring the withering glower the tabloid reporter shot him.
Harry was looking thoroughly disgruntled and beside himself with anger, as was George, that the witch had managed to give the lot of them the slip.
Hermione and Ginny had been called away from monitoring the perimeter by Mrs. Weasley, who needed the girls' help in preparing supper.
Mrs. Weasley wanted to send supper up to Norah and Ollie since the two were staying the night in their home to allow Norah to recuperate from her harrowing labor that had taken its toll on the witch's body.
Harry clutched at a stitch in his side, looking winded, as though he'd run away the way from wherever he and George had spotted Rita approaching the Burrow. His face was flushed pink, his black hair wild and disheveled.
The seventeen-year-old seemed at a loss for words. He swallowed hard past a lump in his throat as he flicked his gaze upward and met Ollie's furious stare.
"F-forgive me, Mr. Brennan, Ollie, sir, b-but she got past us outside. She—she's an unregistered Animagus!" Harry blurted out with no semblance of tact. "A—a beetle, sir, with markings on its face, they match her glasses. Hermione, she—she found out in our fourth year, Triwizard Tournament. I—Auror Runcorn sent a message, sir, he said Kingsley has news. The Ministry has pardoned you, sir. You're...you're free. No charges are being pressed for what happened. Slughorn's contact was able to persuade the Ministry not to send you to trial. You're going to have to pay a fine to help cover the cost of repairing the building, but you're free, sir...I was hoping that if you could spare a moment, we could talk alone? About…er…my roles as your partner when you have a minute?" Harry asked Ollie.
Harry looked nervous and looked like he wasn't sure whether to turn on his heels and run out down the stairs or not.
Ollie opened his mouth to protest the idea of going anywhere that would pull him away from his wife and child's side for even a fraction of a second.
But before the flustered and furious Auror could say a word to his young protégé, Rita spoke, her tone dripping with false concern and no small amount of sarcasm as she looked at the seething handsome wizard.
"Why, I do believe that is a fine idea, Auror Brennan, Mrs. Brennan, don't you think? A little…fresh air to air out your grievances. It must be disappointing for you, Oliver, to be saddled with the likes of a partner who can't even detect an Animagus?" she simpered in a false honey-sweet voice that made the fine hairs on the back of Pansy's neck stand upright.
Rita paused to take in a breath and shift her large dragonhide tote bag to her other arm.
"I'm afraid I can't stay long, I merely thought I would pop by for a spell and see how your wife is faring, Auror Brennan, before the public clamors for your incarceration once this hits the shelves."
She paused, clucking her tongue like a hen in mock concern as she dug into her bag for a manilla packet, and chucked the envelope onto Norah's bed.
The throw was good, and narrowly missed Norah's left lobe.
Ollie's face colored as his temper swelled upon hearing his son's squalling screams of terror at having been jolted from his sleep and having nearly been hit.
A stream of expletives directed entirely at Rita Skeeter was about to burst forth.
However, before he could so much as utter one syllable, he was pulled from glaring at the tabloid reporter as he heard Norah make an odd little noise of dissent through her nose.
Curious, Pansy and George crept closer for a quick look.
George felt the blood drain from his face as he stared in a sense of numb disbelief at Rita's proof copy of her book on Ollie and Norah's lives, and by extension, Pansy's as well.
Pansy took it upon herself to slide out of the envelope with shaking fingers, while Norah frantically clutched her son to her chest and tried to calm their screaming baby.
Pansy's face went pale as together with George, she fumbled through a few of the pages, her eyes skimming the text written in jet-black ink, a few of the phrases standing out more than others.
Included with the proof copy of Rita Skeeter's five-hundred-page book on her family that was sure to slander their name included a stack of moving Polaroids.
The photos of them depicted moments throughout Norah and Ollie's lives together, some more intimate than others, and even a couple of the three of them when Pansy was younger.
Her cheeks flushing red with rage, Pansy angrily whiplashed her head upward to regard the poison-pen journalist, grinding her teeth.
"You—you low down sneaky, dirty rotten filthy bitch! You— you can't do this!" she hissed, rage threatening to overtake her wholly, though she tried to force herself to at least keep her voice low, for the sake of her godson.
If it was at all possible, Rita Skeeter's triumphant smile only widened, immediately bringing to Pansy's mind thoughts of Peeves when the witch smiled so unnaturally wide like this.
"Have seven years of magical education been wasted on you, dear thing?" Rita mocked. "I'd advise you, Parkinson, to learn your words. I can, and I am. It's set to hit the shelves next week. My editor is predicting it will be on the number one bestseller list going at least a month. My readers have been clamoring for your story, Auror Brennan, since they've learned the truth," Rita added in a cold voice.
The witch turned her attentions towards Ollie, who had instinctively moved to the bedside by this point to protect his wife and their son. The man's already pale complexion had lightened a shade further.
His lips parted as if to speak, but no sound came out.
Only the sound of his son's cries and the gentle touch of Norah's hand on his leg seemed to calm him down somewhat from wanting to fly off the handle and into a rage.
It was when he felt a gentle tug on the sleeve of his black sweater that Ollie tore his hateful glare away from the investigative journalist set out to ruin him, that he stared deeply into the pleading eyes of his wife.
Norah's expression was surprisingly calm, though Ollie thought he saw a flicker of anger dart through his beloved wife's deep blue eyes.
Though, much to his surprise, she motioned him towards where Harry was standing with a jerk of her head. Harry was nervously wringing his hands together and biting his lip.
"Go," Norah encouraged in a whisper. "See what Harry wants. You don't need to be here for this. It's only going to upset you, Ollie. Let Pan and I handle Rita," she whispered, whispering her words into the shell of Ollie's ear as she leant forward and kissed him tenderly.
When she pulled away, Ollie could see a flicker of something unreadable darting through her eyes that gave the man pause, but he too was quick to recognize the icy fire that brimmed in his wife's eyes.
Having a conversation with Harry was not how he had anticipated spending his time, not while he had his newborn son to watch over and care for while Norah tried to sleep, but he could at least, trust in Pansy.
And he was not about to argue with his wife. Ollie recognized the look in her eyes as she shook her head as he opened his mouth to protest.
He nearly growled with the effort to restrain himself from saying something he knew he'd regret, but one glance into his now sleeping son's precious and perfect face was enough to deflate his anger.
"If you're sure," he sighed. "Harry and I are just outside. You will call for me if I'm needed?" he begged, searching his wife's face pleadingly.
Only when Norah and Pansy both nodded did the Auror's temper seem a little bit supplicated. He assented to the nature of his wife's request, albeit reluctantly.
He rose from his perch on the edge of the mattress and straightened to his full towering height of 6'2, and shot a threatening look towards Rita Skeeter as if silently daring the witch to do one more thing to piss him off tonight.
If Rita did piss him off, she would come to sorely regret it later on. Ollie leered at her before he turned and stormed out the door and shut the bedroom door quietly behind him, not looking back once.
It took Norah several minutes to calm down, tenderly holding Dominic in her arms.
Pansy was looking like she wanted nothing more than to rip the investigative journalist limb from limb for causing their family and her so much distress, or would, once her book was published.
Norah almost smiled as she watched Pansy step forward, one hand around the handle of her wand that she kept tucked securely in her belt, though with one shake of her head, Pansy halted.
"There's no need, Pan," Norah spoke in a calm and collected voice, level-headed, though it was an effort for her to remain so. Every fiber of her being wanted to scream and rave at Rita, though she had her baby sleeping to think of. "She'll be leaving soon. If you've come hoping to get a quote from me or a photo of my family, Miss Skeeter, then you're going to leave disappointed. And please don't think of transforming into your Animagus form. Now that I know what yours is, all I have to do is call out to my husband, and Ollie will squash you like the cockroach you are."
Rita's painted red lips curled up into a false sympathetic smile as she inched towards the door.
"No matter, dear thing," she clucked her tongue in mock disappointment. "I can tell when I'm not wanted, but rest assured, I've everything I need. I merely wanted to…pop by and let you and your spouse have a sneak peek. It is only fair after all, you two are the stars of the show once it hits the shelves."
Before Pansy or Norah could say anything, she went against Norah's advice and began to transform into the Animagus form that Harry had spoken of.
Pansy barely heard Norah's startled yell and felt a searing burning rage flood through her veins.
She bounded forward towards the door and wrenched it open. Ollie and Harry were gone, presumably, they had ventured downstairs to speak somewhere private close by, but George was just outside.
Pansy frantically motioned to the floor as the blue beetle with the obvious markings Harry had described scuttled towards the stairs.
"It's her, George, stop her, don't let her leave! She's not getting away with this shit, you—" she all but screamed at the top of her lungs, pausing only once to throw up a Silencing Charm in the hallway so the baby wouldn't wake up.
Pansy fully expected George to draw his wand as he nodded to her with a strange look of steadfast determination and something else in his brown eyes, the wizard's jaw cut like steel.
But her boyfriend did none of those things at all. She let out a gasp and staggered backward as George leaped forward and practically shoved Pansy out of the way.
He heard her stumble and squeak in surprise, but for once, George did not apologize for his rough handling of his girlfriend.
He had seen the photographs that Skeeter's photographer had taken in secret, not just of the Brennan's, but of Pansy as well.
There were even a couple with him in it. He could not—would not—let Rita get away with this.
He would protect those he cared for, at any cost.
George was too concerned with doing as Pan had asked and keeping Skeeter from fleeing to really think about his actions, only able to concentrate on the rage now coursing through him and changing him.
He knew the proper thing would be to conjure a jar and capture the witch that way, though he was running out of time to catch her.
He felt something dark and ugly shift within himself and give way.
Before George could fathom what he was doing, his ears began ringing, drowning out the sound of Pansy's yelps and a thud as George's dragonhide boot came down on the beetle that was Rita Skeeter and remained there. He did not see Pansy tense.
With gritted teeth and furiously black dark brown eyes that had turned almost black in the wizard's anger, George raised his boot and crushed in on the squashed insect's body again and again, until one of Skeeter's little legs was ripped from her body, the beetle gave out a final hiss and a violent twitch and moved no more.
When the lifeforce of Rita Skeeter's Animagus form, not red blood like that of a human's, but black and squishy, split onto the hardwood floor and soiled the bottom of his boot, George stopped his tantrum with ragged breaths.
"George!" Pansy shrieked, darting forward to look at the lifeless body of the blue beetle with white markings that had once been Rita Skeeter. "Wh—what did you do, Merlin's Beard, you killed Rita Skeeter, George! Why?!"
George paused, holding the beetle's body in his palm, and for a moment, looked horrified at what he had done, but then a strange sort of serene calmness settled on his features.
"I..I didn't mean to," he exclaimed, a blush speckling along his cheeks. "I...I meant to capture her, b-but I just...er...lost control," he stammered. "I…guess, either way, I took care of it. Rita won't bother us anymore."
When Pansy did not respond, a cloud of anger settled over George's face and he blanched.
"Damn it, Pan, Rita Skeeter deserves this," he whisper hissed through clenched teeth, careful to keep his voice low in case Ollie or Harry came back up the stairs to see what was going on. "Don't you dare try to fool yourself into thinking otherwise, babe? She's been horrible to people for years. She would have done anything and almost ruined you and your family for a stupid story! She'd have dragged your cousin and Ollie and your name into the dirt. Maybe even me too," he added, shrugging his shoulders as if George considered himself an afterthought, which Pansy did not like. But he did not let her get a word in edgewise. "But now, Pan, Rita can't. She can't hurt anyone else. And Ollie…I don't think we should tell him. I think this would only upset him. But Norah, we can tell. I think she'll keep the secret."
Pansy opened her mouth to protest but then clamped her lips shut and thought over George's words.
If there was one thing she thought she could agree on, it was that much.
Her eyes widened in shock and alarm as she heard a pair of frantic footsteps coming up the stairs.
Pansy instinctively groped for George's hand, the one that held the dead Animagus form of once-famed tabloid journalist Rita Skeeter, who would most assuredly be missed, and frantically took hold of the broken beetle's body.
"Pan?" she heard Ollie's frantic voice. "I heard a shout. Was that you? Is Norah alright?" he demanded.
Her eyes widened.
"I...oh, fuck, I, yeah, Ollie, we're good mate, I...there's no need to come up!" she called, though her eyes threatened to bug out of their sockets as the wizard looked as though he did not believe her words and ignored her advice. "Fuck," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Hide it, George," she hissed
Fear and anxiety churned in the pit of her stomach as she peeked over the railing and saw Ollie coming up the stairs, practically taking them two at a time.
She grimaced as she realized the wizard must have heard her yelp the moment George had stepped on Rita and had come running, thinking something was wrong with Norah and their baby.
"George, for the love of Merlin, hide the fucking beetle. If we don't get rid of it, oh, God, he's going to know, oh, Merlin, Ollie will know, Ollie will know and he'll kill us both," Pansy squealed angrily, beside herself with fear, knowing the Legilimens would read her thoughts if she couldn't clear her mind by the time he arrived at the topmost floor.
Pansy's voice was tense and forceful as she clung to George's arm and pulled her boyfriend towards the window, where she fully intended to have the two of them chuck her body out the window and let it be food for the crows or ravens.
Though Pansy wasn't even sure they would want her.
She did not want Ollie to learn the truth, the man was already on edge as it was.
Pansy did not want to ruin the man's elated mood that he was now a proud father to her beautiful baby godson that she was already planning to spoil rotten as he grew up.
Still, George listened to her, which was what she wanted, and hastily chucked Rita Skeeter's turned Animagus form out the window as Pansy wrenched it open before Ollie got close enough to see.
Ollie paused when he reached them, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as the Legilimens studied the coloring of Pansy's flushed cheeks. She felt her blood run cold.
"What's going on? Is Norah alright…our son…? I—I heard shouting, Pan," he asked gruffly, his voice trailing off as he flicked his gaze between George and Pansy blankly, his eyes growing more and more suspicious that his wife's cousin was keeping something important from him.
He frowned and made a beeline for the bedroom.
"N-no, we're—we're good, Ol, mate, I just, um…th—there was a…a spider in my hair," Pansy stammered, thinking quickly on her feet, the lie leaving her lips easier than she thought until she almost believed the lie herself.
Ollie looked as though he fully didn't quite believe her words, but he came back to himself a bit when he heard Norah's sweet voice call to him from behind the door, and almost melted right there on the spot, eager to return to his family's side.
Without questioning Pansy further, for which she was grateful, he opened the door.
Pansy and George did not bother to enter the bedroom again, though they did poke their heads in through the doorway to find Norah propped up against the pillows behind her, barely able to stay awake and fight her exhaustion.
Ollie practically ran to his wife's bedside so fast that the man was a blur. He perched himself on the edge of the mattress and his lips found his wife's before he moved to kiss his son's little forehead, smiling softly, tears of joy and relief filling the man's blue eyes at hearing the delightful little cooing noises that his son was making.
Ollie let out a delighted laugh as the baby's tiny little hands explored Ollie's nose and rough five o'clock shadow as Norah relinquished control of their son to allow the baby's father to hold him for the first time.
Ollie raised his son to his face and nuzzled the baby's tiny cheeks, happy tears trailing down his face.
Ollie beamed with the unconditional love that washed over him.
Raising his eyes, he saw Norah watching them with what he could only describe as adoration.
Then his gaze drifted towards the manilla packet that Rita Skeeter had thrown at Norah, and an ugly shadow washed over the man's handsome features.
Ollie looked as though he was of a mind to burn the envelope where it stood, though Pansy darted forward, her legs moving of their own accord. She knew that did not want to rob the man of his moment with his son.
Pansy wanted to give her cousin's husband every moment Ollie needed to grow the bond with their child.
She rushed forward, her wand drawn and in her hand before Ollie or Norah could make a move to grab the packet.
"Let me do this," Pansy insisted, an edge to her voice that suggested Ollie and Norah would be wise not to argue with her.
Neither of them protested, for which she was grateful, though they gathered around the bed, George included, winding an arm around her waist, and watched the manilla envelope that condemned and convicted her family burned to ashes.
She used her magic to set the envelope and the damming manuscript of Rita's book on fire, becoming ashes forever.
Pansy frowned as she turned her gaze towards George.
Her eyes widened at the odd look in the wizard's brown eyes, and then she was brought back to thoughts of Verity's prediction in St. Mungo's.
How a difficult decision awaited her in the future.
How she and George would make it together, how the decision would affect her and her family, and no matter what, she would be changed.
A tiny little smile tugged her lips upward as she realized what the Seer's prediction now meant.
Verity had been referring to this very moment.
How it concerned Ollie and their family's history, how it literally had become a matter of life and death the moment George had stepped on Rita.
How their lives were now forever changed, and they were free, as Pansy burned the manuscript.
Pansy's smile widened as George returned the smile with a shy grin of his own. She knew without even having to ask him that George was thinking the exact same thing as she was now.
What had happened to Rita Skeeter might not have exactly been the way she would have gone about it…
Pansy still wasn't sure about that, thinking that there was more than George could have done to prevent the witch's accidental death. But it did solve her little love problem, and their family's, besides.
Rita Skeeter wasn't going to drag her or Ollie or Norah or even George through the mud this way. She was gone. Thanks to George.
The smile Pansy graced her boyfriend with was one that he knew he would cherish.
They quietly bid their goodnights to Ollie and Norah. Norah was already drifting off to sleep against the pillows, while Ollie saw to the care of their son.
He looked as though sleep was the last thing on his mind.
Pansy could tell Ollie would watch over his wife and child through the night, forever.
She smiled at the thought as she bid them goodnight, promising to check on them tomorrow, and closed the door behind her.
Only when they had Disapparated back to their now-shared loft above the shop did she speak, now comfortable that they were well and truly alone.
"I won't tell anyone if you won't, George, about Rita, this is our little secret. I think Verity's prediction earlier had to do with her, now I think on it," Pansy admitted in a hushed whisper. "Ollie knowing what happened would only hurt him. He'd probably spend so much time worrying about trying to keep my arse out of trouble, that he'd give himself a headache." Pansy managed weakly as a dry chuckle escaped her lips as she heard the audible sigh of relief her boyfriend let out at hearing her words, and George wasted no time in taking her into his arms and kissing her.
Pansy rested her head against George's chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.
Her dark eyes were distant and held a dreamy look as if she could not believe the turn her life had taken since she had started dating George was real.
"Love you, George. More than...more than I have any right to," she whispered tenderly.
George stroked the top of Pansy's hair and held his girl closer to him.
"Love you too, Pan," he murmured, raising his neck, and kissing her hair.
He made a silent vow to himself then and there, better than any Unbreakable Vow he could ever make, then and there, that one day in the future, he would marry this witch he held tightly in his arms.
The peaceful image settled over George, and he lost himself in dreams of the life with Pansy Parkinson that previously he could not have ever imagined.
Exhausted from the long day, they did not last long, barely making it to George's bed, before falling fast asleep, wrapped in each other's arms.