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"What?" Glynnis stared at the demure doctor, oblivious to his twinkling eyes and the smile that threatened at the corners of his mouth.
"I said 'Congratulations'", he replied, trying desperately to remain serious in the wake of her stunned response.
"Before that," she said breathlessly.
"I said 'You're pregnant'. It's quite a common ailment in married ladies. And in some unmarried ladies as well, I dare say."
Glynnis continued to stare at Attivus Attlewart as if he'd grown wings and a beak right before her eyes. "But . . . this can't be . . . I mean I can't . . . they said I would never . . . " She gave up searching for the right words. "It's impossible," she stated firmly, squaring her shoulders. "You must be mistaken."
Attivus did smile at this. "I have misdiagnosed a few things in my career. Like the time I thought Wumpert Biggles had explosive flatulitis but he'd really only eaten far too many of Bertie Bott's Hot Pepper Flavored Beans. He'd almost burnt the house down by the time I arrived. I always say 'sweets in moderation' but you can't tell a Biggles. Always were prone to overeating candy. I will never forget the time Edwina Biggles ate a whole bag of Muffley's Massive Marshmallows. Ghastly sticky mess, it were. She'd bloated up to three times her normal size by the time I'd got there. Ghastly. Anyway, as I was saying, I have made mistakes but never when it comes to this particular diagnoses."
"But I insist that you are," Glynnis replied calmly. "You see, after Derrick was born I was told I'd never have any more children. It was a difficult birth and they said . . . "
Attivus sighed heavily. "Some Muggle doctor told you that, I suppose?" She nodded. "Shows how much they know about us wizard folk. Pathetic when it comes to treating those of us unfortunate enough to have to go to one."
"But, Attivus, I'm not a witch." Glynnis was getting frustrated. This wasn't turning out the way she'd thought. A simple queasy stomach brought on by too much studying and worry about her tests was what she was expecting to hear. She was not expecting to hear that she was, well, expecting.
"No, you're not a witch," Attivus agreed, "but you're not Muggle either. You're something in-between with more witch than not. And all this studying you've been doing, all the honing of your skills, that's turning the tables more and more."
"But I can't miraculously heal myself!" Glynnis declared. "It's not possible!"
Atttivus shook his head. "You're not thinking, Glynnis! Remember when Harry's relatives cut his hair all off and it grew back overnight? Harry didn't do it consciously, but somewhere deep inside of him he wanted it to grow back badly enough that it did! The mind is a powerful thing and we've not yet begun to understand all it can do."
"But..." Glynnis wasn't done protesting. "But this is . . . "
Attivus cut her off. "Since you've been married, have you and Sirius talked about having children?"
She shook her head. "No. I told him beforehand that I couldn't have any more children. I wanted him to know that up front."
"Did you tell yourself that?" Attivus asked cryptically.
"I didn't have to!"Glynnis wailed as she surged to her feet and began to pace. "I knew I couldn't. Of course I would have liked it, very much, but it just wasn't to be." Glynnis said helplessly, unconsciously repeating what she'd been told all those years ago.
She'd actually thought of little else in those deep hours of the night when Sirius was off on some mission or other. She thought of how wonderful it would be if they could have a child of their own. She loved being a mother. And Glynnis had only just begun to realize how much she really missed it since Harry'd come into her life. Still, as much as she loved him, loved mothering him, he was away at school most of the time and she couldn't help but wish that she'd healed better. She kept imagining what it would be like to hold Sirius' child in her arms, kept dreaming that she'd be able to have as many children as they could house. She told Attivus as much.
"And what happened in these dreams?" Attivus asked, leaning forward.
"Why, I got pregnant."
"Ah ha! There, you see? Mind over matter." Glynnis started to protest yet again but he cut her off with a pointed finger. "No more of this, Glynnis. You've been round this world long enough to know that strange things happen. And so, instead of analysing and reasoning and questioning, I suggest you simply accept it as fact and paint the nursery." He gave an abrupt nod of his head to accent this statement and leaned back in his chair, the discussion clearly over.
Glynnis sat with her mouth open, as if ready to say more but no words came out. Eventually, she sat back down, her shoulders slumped in resignation and said weakly. "What am I to tell Sirius?"
Attivus guffawed loudly and slapped his knee. "The happy truth, my girl! He's to be a father! And Harry's to be a big brother, in a manner of speaking. They'll both be thrilled!"
"Won't he wonder?" she asked more to herself than to the doctor.
"The only one wondering is you, dearest Glynnis. Sirius will accept this. It's a miracle plain and simple, if you like. Accept it and rejoice." He knelt before her and lifted Glynnis' face in his hand so that her eyes met his. "You're going to have a baby, Glynnis." Something in his gentle smile finally reached into Glynnis' heart and the reality of it all finally hit her.
"I'm going to have a baby," she repeated quietly. Attivus nodded. Suddenly, her face brightened and she yelled. "I'm going to have a baby!" Glynnis leapt to her feet, bringing the little doctor with her. She embraced him tightly and turned him round and round in a joyful dance. "Oh, Attivus!"
"Now, now!" laughed Attivus, when the world stopped spinning, "You must begin to take it easy. Won't do you any good exhausting yourself the first few months."
Glynnis grinned stupidly. "When?" she asked with a giggle. Now that she'd accepted the notion that she really was pregnant, she was giddy with delight.
"Let me think . . . " Attivus began counting on his fingers. "Thirty days hath September. April, June and November."
Glynnis slapped his arm playfully. "Attivus, stop teasing me."
The little doctor's eyes shone. "I'd say it's a fair bet that you'll be able to give Harry a very special birthday gift this year."
Glynnis sat down suddenly. "Harry," she said worriedly. "Do you think he'll be okay with this? I mean, he's just got used to the idea of having a family. He's so excited about coming home for Christmas. I don't want him to feel pushed out."
Attivus took her hands and lifted her out of the chair. "Harry will be delighted! Now, I want you to go home, fix a nice cup of tea, and relax. Enjoy the moment. Get plenty of rest and if you need anything, send an owl. I'll be along to see you in a month."
Glynnis hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Attivus!" she said breathlessly against the top of his head. Attivus smiled and turned to the fireplace, tossed in some floo powder and vanished with a wave.
Later that evening, when all his patients had been seen to, Attivus fixed himself a hot cup of mulled wine and sank down in the deep chair by his desk with a sigh. A small black cat jumped onto his lap and purred delightedly as the doctor absently stroked his back. "Well, Mistofolees, Glynnis pregnant. That's something isn't it? You'd should have seen her face." He chuckled at the memory. "Do you suppose I should have told her her....? No, I'd better let it be for now. She and Sirius have enough to think about. Still . . ." he was interupted by an indignant meow. "Sorry, Mistofolees, old boy, didn't realize I'd stopped. What was I saying? Oh yes, it's always better to be prepared. Then again, they've got a lot on their plate as it is. Hmm. I'll wait until later. Then I'll tell her. I want to wait until Sirius is there. I want to see the look on his face." With that thought the doctor threw back his head and laughed.
***********************************
"Read this," ordered Lucius Malfoy, thrusting the crumpled letter at Annas Grimmel.
"Hello, to you, too," thought Dakin sarcastically as he continued working on the potion he was mixing for a customer.
"It's just come from my son. Apparantly he needs an additional ingredient for a potion they're making. Why Snape couldn't have forseen this ahead of time is beyond me, but, then again, the school isn't nearly as well run as it should be. The things Dumbledore gets away with."
Grimmel only smiled politely and read the letter. "Dakin," he said, "Let that potion sit for a moment will you and fill this order?"
Dakin wiped his hands on his apron and took the note.
"Well?" Malfoy demanded after a moment. "Do you think I have all day? Hurry it up!"
Dakin took a few seconds to reply, not because he had to but because he knew it irritated Malfoy to be kept waiting. "Two pinches of moth's wing dust. Yes, sir. Anything else?"
Why was Malfoy interested in Potter, he wondered. And was this woman the same one he'd seen at Grunnings? The description sort of fit, but as recalled she been rather pretty and not at all fat. His mind whirled as he considered how he could get the information he wanted without raising suspicions.
"Is this Potter he mentions the same one that defeated that evil wizard some years ago?" he ventured while he opened the jar of moth's wing dust.
"Yes," drawled the elder Malfoy unpleasantly. "Causes Draco no end of trouble, that one. Shouldn't even be at Hogwarts what with the way he carries on. That Potter has no consideration for rules."
"Yes, well," Grimmel piped up. "We must make exceptions for the boy, being raised by Muggles and all."
"I suppose," growled Malfoy.
"Is this woman who visited him one of the Muggles who raised him?" asked Dakin, trying to sound merely curious.
"How would I know?" replied Malfoy, clearly offended at the thought. "I have no association with Muggles."
"It's hard to tell what she looked like from the description your son gave." Dakin's mind was working feverishly trying to think of questions that sounded as if he were only interested as opposed to desperate.
"Yes, well, he's never been very good with details when it comes to women," Malfoy remarked acidly, obviously distressed at his son's lack of perception. "That description could fit any one of a hundred women."
Dakin couldn't resist making verbal stab."Perhaps Draco has yet to learn an appreciation for the fairer sex?" He hid a smile as Malfoy went into a rage.
"My son has a perfect appreciation for women! The rumors going around about my son are just that - filthy rumors. Probably started by that Potter to try and discredit a boy who's obviously got more going for him. I don't want to hear such drivel repeated in my presence again! Understood?"
Dakin bowed slightly. "I meant no disrespect," he lied smoothly, enjoying himself immensely. "Of course I have disregarded any speculation about your son's manhood as simple jealously on the part of the rumormongers. I was simply commenting on his youth."
"I certainly hope so," spat Malfoy.
"Perhaps this visitor was a Muggle friend, coming to visit." Dakin remarked passively.
"Dakin," chimed Grimmel, who'd been very quiet during this conversation, "Muggles would never be allowed in Hogwarts."
"Perhaps things are different in the Americas," sneered Malfoy. "Association with Muggles, even Muggle born wizards, can have an adverse affect on one's environment. Perhaps that's why young Dakin here is sifting ant legs for a living instead of pursuing a more, shall we say, lucrative career?"
Dakin smiled darkly. "Doesn't Hogwarts enroll these Muggle born wizards? I seem to recall hearing one of our customers mention something to that fact earlier today."
"Yes," remarked Malfoy with a grimace. "Something I totally disagree with but am little able to anything about. Now, if you've quite finished, boy, I'll take my order and go. I'm a busy man."
Dakin handed him the parcel, defeated for the moment. He'd discover who this woman was, one way or another.