Thanks to Sasha (yet again) for proof reading and feedback!
It was pain that awoke Minerva McGonagall, but the excitable three-year-old at the side of the bed came a close second.
Dark brown eyes peered at her as William Sirius Albus Lupin tried to determine whether his mother was awake or not. Waking Mummy and Daddy before the sun came up had already been established as a serious offence, but perhaps birthdays were different.
"Hello, William."
"Mummy!"
Her son beamed happily at her and she reached out with one hand to affectionately ruffle his unruly hair. He'd definitely got his father's hair, though thankfully without the grey.
August sunshine seeped around the edges of the drapes, the pale gold promising a glorious day to come.
"Happy birthday, darling," she murmured, still half asleep.
"I'm three!" William said proudly. "Where's Daddy?"
Remus had been in London for the past three nights: first the full moon and then his work for the Order had kept him at Grimmauld Place. He was due to return to Hogwarts that evening, though Minerva had the distinct suspicion that she would be summoning him back even before then. The worsening ache in her back and the sporadic cramps in her belly were unmistakably labour pains, even though their second child was not due to make an appearance for another fortnight.
"Daddy's in London, William. He'll be back for your birthday tea."
Minerva squinted sleepily at the clock. The absence of formal term-time routines made it disturbingly easy to oversleep, even with William up at the crack of dawn most days. Lately Remus had been bearing most of the parental responsibilities, insisting that she rested and refusing point blank to wake her. Most disgracefully of all, she'd started falling asleep in the afternoons: dozing off in the comfortable chairs of the library, or on the sofa in her living room as William played peacefully on the rug.
She slid awkwardly out of bed and wrapped herself in her heavily transfigured tartan dressing gown. A bath would ease the discomfort, she reasoned, and would probably help her to relax a little as well. Though she knew what to expect it was still unnerving to remember all that could go wrong.
Remus had missed William's birth; an unfortunate consequence of his lycanthropy. Though he'd put on a brave face at the time Minerva knew he'd been deeply troubled about it. He'd more than made up for it with the love and attention he'd given William ever since but still Minerva was not foolish enough to think that the wounds were completely healed.
The post owl tapped sharply at the window and William rushed excitedly to draw back the curtain. Minerva followed rather more slowly to retrieve the August issue of Transfiguration Today, several brightly coloured envelopes, a small parcel and an invitation to trial the soon-to-be-released Firebolt II. This last missive made her smile wryly; she'd be hard pushed to find a broomstick that would even lift her off the ground, given her current shape.
"There are some cards here for you, William."
She helped him to open them: a brightly coloured musical card from 'Auntie Tonks and Uncle Moody', the current guardians of Grimmauld Place. Inside was a Honeyduke's Gift Voucher, much to Minerva's disapproval and William's delight. Hestia's envelope dispensed a badge as well as a card, and Molly and Arthur's parcel contained a set of toy unicorns: two white adults, one silver foal and one tiny golden one.
William played happily with his new toys whilst she bathed and was fascinated to find that they would gallop across the floor as well as whinny realistically. Hagrid had shown him a real unicorn once and he'd been very impressed. Minerva sipped tea and perused her transfiguration journal for a while, then reluctantly got out of the tub. She still had to bathe and dress William and they both needed breakfast, though she wasn't sure how much she'd be able to eat. On the other hand, if the baby really was on the way she ought to get Madam Pomfrey to check all was well. It was just a question of finding someone to take care of William.
By the time they were both dressed and ready to leave, Minerva had made up her mind.
"We're going down to see Poppy," she explained to William as she helped him on with his shoes.
"Why?"
"Because my tummy's hurting."
"Will Poppy give you the pink medicine?"
"No. The pink medicine is for little boys whose tummies hurt when they eat too many of Uncle Albus' sweets. My tummy hurts because the baby is ready to be born."
"Oh."
There was a pause as William wiggled his toes in his new shoes to check that his feet weren't squashed completely. Since Mummy and Daddy had first told him that he was going to have a sister, he'd been keenly interested in what was happening. He still didn't quite understand why the baby was in Mummy's tummy when it could have just arrived by owl like most other things did. He definitely didn't believe what Daddy had said about William coming from Mummy's tummy as well. Mummy's tummy could never grow as big as he was. Still, he'd got used the baby being where it was, and now that it was actually coming out he was quite excited again.
"Is the baby really coming now?" he asked eagerly.
"I think so, sweetheart."
Truthfully, she was glad. Remus' absence not withstanding, all was as well as could be. William had been born at Grimmauld Place, into an atmosphere of fear and mistrust. Minerva's labour had lasted for an entire day and most of the subsequent night, in a gloomy and oppressive room with only Molly Weasley for company – and Molly had been just as terrified as Minerva, though she'd tried valiantly not to let it show. Shamefully, Minerva had felt no joy or elation when her son had finally been safely delivered – only relief that her ordeal was finally over. She'd awoken the following evening to find Remus learning how to change a nappy, consumed with guilt at not being there for her. The following few months had been just as difficult. They'd had to learn to balance their new roles as parents with their existing responsibilities. They'd had to cope with often being far apart, and with very little sleep. It was a testament to the strength of their relationship that, even through the hardest times, neither had given up on the other, or their son, and walked away.
This time things would be different. They were at Hogwarts and Poppy Pomfrey, who frequently acted as midwife for the nearby village, was close by with all her expertise and wisdom. The summer holiday meant no teaching responsibilities for Minerva and the recruitment into the Order last year of the newly graduated Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, as well as several Aurors who had been swayed to Dumbledore's point of view, had lessened the load on Remus so that he'd been able to support her throughout her pregnancy. And although two children would certainly be more work than William alone, they at least knew what they were doing now.
Minerva and William made slow progress down the stairs to the hospital wing, partly because Minerva was feeling very off balance and partly because William was trying to keep hold of all four unicorns and his mother's hand at the same time. Between the fifth and six floors, the staircases made an abrupt change causing him to shriek with delight.
Finally, they passed through the double doors leading into the main ward.
"Mummy's tummy hurts," William announced importantly.
Poppy hustled Minerva immediately over to a nearby bed, and she gratefully took the weight from off her feet.
"Poppy, I think I'm in labour."
"Have your waters have broken?"
"I'm not sure. I don't think so."
"I'd best examine you then," Poppy said decidedly, pulling on a fresh apron and tying the strings tightly behind her back. "There's clean gowns in the cupboard. I'll just fetch one for you."
"I need to give William his breakfast first," Minerva protested weakly, though in all honesty she didn't feel like walking anywhere at the moment.
"You need to rest. Besides, I'm sure Albus can take care of William."
Poppy marched over to the fire place and swept the jar of Floo powder from the mantelpiece.
"Albus! You're needed in the hospital wing!"
A moment later Albus Dumbledore was stepping out of the flames, glowing an eerie green from their light. William was entranced and clapped his hands excitedly. The Floo network never failed to fascinate him and it was much to his dismay that both of his parents were perfectly happy to walk.
As soon as the flames subsided he ran to greet his godfather.
"Hello, Uncle Albus!"
"Good morning, William."
"Uncle Albus, can I have a shebby lemon?"
Dumbledore beamed and reached one hand into the depths of his robes, but stopped abruptly when he caught Minerva's eye.
"No, William. You must have breakfast first."
Minerva said nothing, though her expression made it quite clear that she hadn't been fooled. As the baby kicked out she stroked her bump gently.
"Minerva."
Albus took her hand and kissed it in greeting.
"Daddy made a baby in Mummy's tummy!" William explained gleefully. "That's why Mummy's gone all big!"
"That will do, thank you, William," Minerva said primly.
"Albus, would you be kind enough to give William his breakfast? Minerva and I have business to attend to."
"I would be delighted, my dear."
"Albus, are you sure you don't mind?"
"Not at all. I am the boy's godfather, after all. I certainly wouldn't want anyone to think of me as remiss in my godfatherly duties."
"Oh, and Albus? Please don't give him any sweets."
"Uncle Albus, it's my birthday today."
William couldn't resist reminding his godfather as the two of them walked downstairs. He knew how grown-ups sometimes forgot important things.
"Is it really, young William? Well, perhaps you should choose where we have breakfast, then."
"The Great Hall!"
William loved the Great Hall. He was rarely allowed down there during term time but once or twice Daddy (who also wasn't supposed to be seen by the students) had let him peep around the door frame on his way up to bed and he'd gazed in wonder at the rows and rows of black robed students filling the enormous space, and at Mummy wearing her green robes and hat at the High Table. On these occasions Daddy would always have to tell him his favourite bedtime story: the one where he was a wizard and could magic things all by himself.
"Are you sure?"
Albus had been rather hoping that the boy would settle for a quiet breakfast in the Headmaster's office so that he could get on with his paperwork. On the few occasions William had been up there, he'd certainly enjoyed riding on the moving staircase, although Minerva had had to work quite hard to keep him away from all the magical equipment that sparkled and glittered whenever the sun was shining.
He unwrapped another sherbert lemon and slipped it into his mouth. William was giving him a pleading look, and it was his birthday after all.
He sighed.
"Very well."
The Great Hall lay empty: an unusual sight during term time but one only too common during the summer. Very few of the staff remaining in the castle chose to have a formal breakfast, especially when the weather was this nice. Instead they'd enjoy a relaxing brunch under the cloisters or make do with toast and orange juice from the staffroom.
William ran through the enormous doors, followed at a more sedate pace by the Headmaster.
"Can we sit at the big table?"
"Oh, I expect so."
Albus made his way slowly between the house benches and took his usual seat at the centre of the High Table, feeling slightly foolish at being so formal in the absence of the rest of the school. William clambered happily onto what was more usually his mother's seat. Above them the enchanted ceiling was a brilliant blue with not a single cloud to mar it's beauty, and Albus felt slightly guilty about keeping the boy inside. Young children should be out playing on days like these, he thought, and there was certainly plenty of space on the lawns for William to run around. Still, duty called. He had several field reports from the Order to review, the Inaugural International Wizarding Conference to plan and a visit from Amelia Bones to prepare for, before he could even make a start on Hogwarts work. But before that he would certainly need a good breakfast.
Albus tapped his wand three times on the table and moments later a skinny house elf with large, luminous green eyes slipped through a door behind the High Table and bowed low in front of them.
"Dobby!" William shouted excitedly. He'd met the house elf a few times, usually when the students were here and Daddy was home. As a special treat Daddy would take him down to the kitchen to get food for dinner. William was always very impressed with the house elves and loved watching them cook. Daddy had even helped him make a hat like Dobby's for playing in the snow at Christmas.
Dobby looked equally delighted to see William and Albus.
"Good morning, Master William and Professor Dumbledore, sir!" he beamed happily. "Will sir and young master be having breakfast or just tea?"
"Breakfast and tea, please."
"It's my birthday, Dobby!"
"Then Dobby wishes Master William a very happy birthday. Dobby will fetch Master William a special birthday breakfast, yes he will! And what would Professor Dumbledore, sir, be wanting for breakfast?"
"The usual, thank you Dobby."
Dobby bowed low.
"Right away, sir and young master."
Once Albus had finished his full English breakfast, and William had managed to eat most of his scrambled egg on star-shaped toast, they made their way back up to Albus' office. Already the tray on the desk marked 'in' was overflowing with scrolls and envelopes. Albus called Phineas and gave him the message for Remus to return to Hogwarts, gave William his birthday present, then settled himself behind his desk.
William sat down on the floor to unwrap the parcel. He'd left his unicorns in the hospital wing so he hoped there'd be something in it that he could play with. Eventually he managed to get the Spellotape unstuck. Inside was a large pack of coloured pens and a roll of parchment, bundled up in black cloth.
"Thanks, Uncle Albus!"
William set straight to work with the pens and parchment, so quietly that almost two hours had passed before Albus remembered that the boy was still there and got up to check on him.
He was still drawing contentedly, though now his arms, face and t-shirt all seemed to have been confused with the parchment and some point or other, leaving a veritable rainbow of brightly coloured stains. Albus sighed heavily. Minerva had only just bathed the child; she would not be impressed. Still, she wouldn't let anyone use magic to clean him so there was little else that could be done now.
"What are you drawing, William?"
Albus crouched down as best he could and peered over his spectacles.
"Daddy," William said happily, gesturing to a tall, thin wizard in a brown cloak. Next to him stood a witch: unmistakably Minerva with her long dark hair, green clothes and very round belly. "That's Mummy and the baby," William informed him, "and this is me and you in the Great Hall, and Dobby."
He passed both pieces of parchment to Albus for closer inspection. Albus studied them with the kind of intensity he usually reserved for important Ministry documents, and then nodded approval.
"Can I keep these, William?"
William nodded, and with a wave of his wand Albus sent the pictures soaring over to the far wall of the office, where they adhered themselves neatly in a gap between portraits. Several of the past Headmasters and Headmistresses squinted disdainfully but he ignored them.
"You forgot the other part of the present," he said to William, gesturing at the black cloth that had been discarded unceremoniously onto the floor. He'd had it made on Minerva's advice: she'd assured him that William would adore it. Now, however, Albus wasn't so sure. But maybe William just hadn't realised what it was.
Sure enough, William's eyes lit up as he unfolded the pile of fabric.
"A wizard's cloak!"
It was a carefully shrunk version of the official school cloak. Albus had been sorely tempted to put a Slytherin badge on it in the interests of keeping an open mind, but he knew that Minerva would have been horrified. Instead, he'd left it with the official Hogwarts badge that all the students wore before being sorted – that way nobody could accuse him of being biased.
He watched fondly as William put the cloak on and proudly inspected his reflection in the shiny surface of a nearby Dreamsorter. He had a great affection for the boy: not only because he was (so far, anyway) his only godchild, but also because of the enormous respect and love that Albus had for his parents. Both Remus and Minerva had changed enormously since William's birth, and for the better. Albus knew how hard Minerva had struggled when she'd first become a mother – he recalled one particularly memorable evening when he'd found her sobbing desperately in her office, trying to keep ahead with her lesson preparation even though Remus was away and William had been up all night with a nasty cold. He'd had several long talks with her in an effort to help her prioritise her own health and well-being as well as everyone else's, and it gave him great pleasure now to see her coping so efficiently.
Albus slipped another sherbet lemon into his mouth and absently passed one to William. He'd managed to look after William for a few hours at least, but really he'd be better off outside.
And in a sudden moment of inspiration, Albus realised he knew exactly the person to take care of him.
Outside the sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky. It was a sharp contrast from the peaceful gloom of the entrance hall and Albus found himself blinking furiously. William was already skipping down the steps, thrilled to be outside at last and able to run around and make noise to his heart's content. As Albus shuffled slowly along the path that lead to the greenhouses, William was running in excited circles around him and looking like a large, overexcited bat in his new black cloak.
The greenhouses themselves also seemed to be delighting in the warmer weather. Many of the vents and skylights, that brought much needed ventilation to the humid interior, were also serving as escape routes for some of the more adventurous shrubs and creepers. It was particularly noticeable around Greenhouse Two, which was almost completely hidden by vibrant orange blossoms. A half full watering can had been given a new life as a doorstop. Albus knocked tentatively on one of the panes.
"Who's there?"
Cynthia Sprout came bustling out almost immediately. Her hat had been long since abandoned and the moist heat of the greenhouse had made her hair curl even more than usual. The presence of several twigs and leaves and the smudges of soil on her apron meant that she looked just as much a part of the greenhouse as any of the plants.
Albus could not resist a wry smile.
"Dear me, Cynthia. I'm beginning to think we'll have to send a search party in for you when the new school year starts."
"It's no laughing matter, Albus! If I don't get the scarlet-tipped asphoridastrix re-potted by the end of the week there will be hell to pay, believe you me! And… oh, who's this?"
Cynthia pushed her spectacles firmly back onto the bridge of her nose and peered curiously down at William, who gaped back at her, for once at a loss for words. One of his hands was firmly gripping the Headmaster's robes. Albus nudged him gently forward.
"William, I don't believe you've met Professor Sprout."
"Oh, of course. Hello, William. I have met you, you know, but you were a lot smaller then."
"Hello 'Fessor Sprout," William mumbled, remembering what Mummy had said to him on countless occasions about having good manners. Mummy also had lots to say about keeping clean and tidy. He wondered what she would say if she could see the lady in front of him now. Probably she'd make her have a bath straight away – with no supper until she was clean again!
"Minerva is… indisposed on the hospital wing. I wonder if I might trouble you to take care of William for a few hours?"
Cynthia gave William an appraising look.
"I expect that would be all right. Of course, he might get a little bit… untidy."
When she glanced back at Albus there was a distinctly wicked gleam in her eye. Like William, she knew exactly how Minerva felt on the subject of tidiness, and although the two women got on well, a friendly rivalry between the Heads of Houses had been a tradition at Hogwarts for many years.
Albus knew it, too, though he did his best to keep a straight face as he assured Cynthia that dirt was nothing a hot bath couldn't fix.
"I'm sure William would be much happier out in the sunshine than stuck in an office with an old fogey like me," he added.
"And Minerva? Is she all right?"
"Absolutely. Although I believe a new arrival is… ah, imminent."
"Ah."
Cynthia nodded knowingly.
"Well, then William. We'd better get back to work. You're never too young to start learning Herbology!"
"What's herbojy?" William enquired curiously.
"Auntie Cynthia will show you, William. Just be good, won't you?"
William was indeed good, and listened carefully to Cynthia's instructions on where he could and could not play. True to her word, she tried hard to encourage him to take an interest in the various fronds and blossoms that surrounded him, though mostly he liked the colourful ones and wasn't interested in anything that didn't flower. In the end he settled for happily digging holes for Cynthia's monkshood seedlings whilst she continued to wrestle with the asphoridastrix.
It was quite apt, Cynthia thought, that William was busy encouraging the growth of the very plants that helped his father so much when the full moon arrived. Personally she had nothing against werewolves, and furthermore had much respect for Remus Lupin from when he had taught at Hogwarts himself. She had seen for herself how the Hufflepuff students had benefited from his keen but patient tuition. She was glad to see him happy at last – and Minerva, too, for that matter.
By lunchtime William was just as filthy as Cynthia, and the two of them ate a leisurely lunch on the lawn with Xiomara Hooch. Cynthia had used Xiomara's discarded Daily Prophet to fold an impromptu sunhat for William and he wore it proudly, surveying the castle as if it was he, and not Albus Dumbledore, that was it's master.
"If Min- if your mother says it's all right, you can have your own space in Greenhouse One, William. Would you like that? I'll help you grow some flowers!"
William beamed excitedly.
"Yes please!"
"There we are. You can consider it your birthday present."
"Poppy said Minerva's definitely in labour," Xiomara informed Cynthia. "She thinks it won't be too long."
"Oh."
Though it was undoubtedly good news as far as Minerva was concerned, for Cynthia it presented a more immediate problem.
"I'm going to Hogsmeade to pick up some seeds this afternoon. I'll have to find someone else to look after William."
Xiomara gave the toddler an appraising look.
"Do you think he's too young for flying lessons?"
"Of course he is!" Cynthia exclaimed, horrified at the very thought. "Besides, do you know what Minerva would do to us if she found out we'd been giving him flying lessons?"
"Good point," Xiomara admitted. "It's just that I promised I'd help some of the kids from the village this afternoon. I won't be able to keep an eye on William and watch them at the same time. Sorry."
Both of them glanced at William, who was happily devouring one of Cynthia's sandwiches, oblivious to the conversation that was taking place above his head.
"What about Hagrid?"
"Hagrid?!" Cynthia shot a horrified glare at her colleague, who merely shrugged. "Oh, I can just see it! He'll probably have the poor boy helping him catch an acromantula or something crazy like that. No, that's worse than flying."
Xiomara shook her head.
"He's repainting the Quidditch stadium this afternoon. Trust me, William will be fine."
"Well…"
Cynthia twisted round to stare thoughtfully at the wooden hut nestling peacefully on the edge of the forest. Sure enough, Hagrid was outside, busily loading tins of paint into a wooden handcart. He had no reason to be keeping any magical creatures around, dangerous or otherwise, when there were no students here to teach. And besides, the only other option was to take William back up to the hospital wing – which was the last thing Minerva would need now.
"All right, Hagrid it is. But if anything happens to him, you, Xiomara, will be taking the blame."
"Haggid!"
"Are you sure you'll take care of him?" Cynthia asked anxiously. "I mean, if you're going into the Forest or anything, I can always take him back up to Minerva."
"Nonsense!" Hagrid said, slightly hurt by Cynthia's doubts. He was very fond of William and wasn't often given the opportunity to take care of him. As if he'd let him get harmed!
"He'll be fine," he assured Cynthia, who departed with a rather worried look on her face, and continued to glance back at them as she made her way across the lawns. "Come on then, William. We've lots to do!"
William giggled in delight as Hagrid lifted him easily onto his shoulder. Together the two of them set off across the lawns and down the hill to the Quidditch stadium cart in tow.
The wooden stands that ringed the stadium were decked out in vivid colours and patterns that represented all four of the school houses. Hagrid had been hard at work all morning and had already finished the main commentary tower, leaving a small heap of empty paint cans in once corner of the stadium. He eased the cart to a halt right beside the rubbish, gently lifted William down and started to unload more tins of Iridia Pigment's Best All Weather Unfadeable paint.
"Am I right in thinking someone's got a birthday today?" he asked after a moment.
"Yes! It's my birthday."
"Hmm." Hagrid gave his bearded chin a thoughtful scratch. "Have ter see if I've got any birthday presents for yeh in me cart, in that case."
Sure enough, a quick search of the handcart revealed a long, thin package roughly wrapped in brown paper.
William took it cautiously. It didn't look like a birthday present. It looked like the kind of parcels that Mummy often received, and that William usually wasn't allowed to open. But mostly they contained books, and this one definitely wasn't big enough to be a book. Unless it was a very small book. William gave the package an experimental shake and was quite disappointed when nothing happened.
"Yeh can open it, William," Hagrid said gruffly.
William needed no further encouragement. He ripped the paper eagerly apart to find a small box beneath it, and inside that…
"I made it for yeh," Hagrid added, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. "Though yeh might like it, seeing as how yeh like bein' a wizard."
"Thanks, Haggid!"
William gave his new wand an experimental wave. Hagrid had painstakingly carved it using wood from a hazel tree that had been uprooted in a recent storm. He'd even added the detail around the handle, making it a smaller but otherwise almost perfect replica of Minerva's.
"Can I make it do magic?" William asked excitedly.
"Well, no just yet, no. Yer need to go to school an' learn how ter do magic properly. But yeh can practice with it till yer big enough for school"
"Spellyarmis! Haggid, I'm a wizard!"
Hagrid put his hands on his hips and leant forward to study William intently.
"Nah," he said at length. "I reckon yeh need some stars on yer hat if yeh's gonna be a real wizard."
He set down the large brush he was using and plucked a smaller one from the box on the handcart. It only took a drop of gold paint and a few moments work to turn William's hat into a 'real wizard's hat'.
William was delighted. For a while he ran happily around the pitch, using his wand to zap everything in sight and adding his own sound effects. When he'd tired of that he came to help Hagrid with the painting.
"My Daddy's back tonight," he said conversationally, some time later.
"Is that so?"
Hagrid stole a furtive look at the toddler and noticed for the first time the paint staining his cheeks, arms and clothing. The grass stains and dirt weren't really Hagrid's fault but the paint certainly wouldn't go unnoticed by either of William's parents.
"Yes. And when he comes back, Mummy's going to have a baby for my birthday."
"Well we'd better clean yeh up an' all before Profess- before yer Daddy gets back."
In the few hours they'd been working, they'd manage to complete a large section of the lower stands. Hagrid nodded appreciatively and started packing away the tins, both full and empty, onto the cart. A furtive glance around assured him nobody was looking and he pulled out his pink umbrella and muttered a quick charm to clean the brushes.
They made their way slowly back up to Hagrid's cottage. William chose to ride on the cart this time, standing tall on top of the pile of paint cans on the pretext of protecting Hagrid from any dark wizards that might be lurking nearby. He was so busy watching behind the cart that he didn't notice the figure strolling up from the main gates until he heard Hagrid bellow loudly:
"Afternoon, Remus!"
"Daddy!" William shrieked, scrambling happily down off the cart.
Remus gave his son a cheerful wave. The sleeves of his mud-stained shirt were rolled up in deference to the warm weather, his wand was tucked into the waistband of his trousers and he was carrying a small holdall. As he drew nearer, William wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"Daddy, you smell bad!"
"It's nice to see you too, William! Happy Birthday!"
Remus set his bag down and held out his arms to his son, wondering where on earth Minerva was. William was absolutely filthy: his previously white t-shirt was now a mess of dirt and coloured streaks, which presumably had something to do with the paint Hagrid was carrying. There was ink on the boy's arms and the paint on his makeshift hat had dripped a line of gold right down the back of the cloak he was wearing. Still, he looked happy at any rate. And, Remus reminded himself, he wasn't the only one who needed a good wash.
"Yuk!"
"What happened to yeh, Remus?"
Remus gave his son a hug, almost knocking his hat off in the process.
"Had to take a detour through a cow farm in the dark," he explained. "I think our sneakoscope was playing up."
"Mummy will make you have a bath!"
"I expect Mummy will be making both of us have a bath, William. Are you having a nice birthday?"
"Yes! Daddy! Look, I'm a wizard!"
William waved his wand in front of his father's face.
"Yes, so I see. Have you been good for Mummy while I've been away?"
It was only then that William remembered he had important news for his father.
"Mummy's not well. Her tummy hurts because the baby's coming out of it."
"Is that so?"
The smile faded from Remus' face. Minerva wasn't due for another two weeks; although the size of her belly made it hard to believe that there was room for the baby to grow anymore. He'd been concerned to the point where he'd almost pulled out of his Order duties for this week, but Minerva and Poppy had both assured him that everything was fine and that they'd make sure he knew straight away if there was any change.
"Besides," Poppy had added, "you'll drive us both crazy fussing."
Even so, he'd still been reluctant to leave. William's birth had been traumatic beyond belief, and even though the warm sunshine of Hogwarts was a vast contrast to the sticky heat of the city and the perpetual gloom of Grimmauld Place, he'd felt extremely uneasy, not to mention guilty about leaving his heavily pregnant wife to look after an excitable toddler by herself for the best part of a week. Eventually he and Minerva had had a long heart to heart about it, during which she'd reminded him that neither of their children would have much of a future to look forward to if the Order didn't put every effort possible into safeguarding it.
"Fly me like a broomstick, Daddy!"
William's plea broke through Remus' reverie. Minerva would be fine, of course she would be. They'd have called him back if there was anything to worry about, wouldn't they?
But maybe they had.
He hadn't bothered to go back to Grimmauld Place this morning. He, Mad-Eye and Matthias had managed a few hours sleep in a barn and washed as best as they could in a nearby stream. Remus had been so keen to get back to Hogwarts that they'd decided to finish the investigation they were carrying out rather than return to London for a proper rest. From there, Remus had apparated straight back to Hogsmeade and walked back to the school.
If there had been a message waiting at Grimmauld Place for him, he'd never have got it.
Remus hoisted William onto his shoulders, muttered a brief thank you to Hagrid, and set off at a run towards the hospital wing.
"OUT!"
Poppy Pomfrey's furious shout echoed out from the doorway of the hospital wing and resonated down the corridor. William pressed both hands to his ears and screwed up his face in protest. Remus merely flinched.
"I just want to see her, Poppy!" he pleaded.
He craned his head around the doorframe in an attempt to catch a glimpse of his wife. The only beds he could see were empty, but before he had a chance to look further Poppy shooed them both back outside with a flap of her apron.
"You are not coming anywhere near my patients in that filthy state!" she said vehemently.
"Is she all right?" Remus persisted.
Poppy gave him an angry glare.
"She won't be if she so much as catches a glimpse of the two of you looking like that!"
Remus had to concede that point. He wasn't looking forward to what Minerva would say when she saw the veritable compendium of stains and dirt that her only son was now modelling proudly.
"Is the baby out of Mummy's tummy yet?" William piped up.
Poppy's expression softened a little.
"Not yet, William," she said, bending down to address the youngster. "I don't expect it will be too much longer. But long enough for you both to have a bath," she added pointedly, this time directing her remark to Remus.
Remus considered this carefully. As much as he wanted to see Minerva, if he and William both got cleaned up then nobody would have to take the blame. And the last thing his wife needed right now was unnecessary upset.
"But she's all right?" he persisted.
"She's fine," Poppy said firmly. "Now, out! Both of you, out!"
"Daddy, do I have to have a bath?"
"Yes, William," Remus said firmly. "We need to get you clean – and me clean – so that we can go and see Mummy."
"And the baby?"
"Yes, when she's born."
William considered this as his father helped him remove his new hat and cloak, followed by the rest of his clothes.
"Daddy, is the baby going to stay forever?"
Remus chuckled.
"Yes, William. She'll be your sister, remember?"
"Oh."
Remus lifted his son into the bath and then, remembering that time was short, decided to join him.
After very little persuasion William was allowed to bring his unicorns into the tub, and when it was time to wash his hair Daddy did it the fun way: using his wand to make it rain above the bath and singing silly songs. William had mixed opinions on baths. With Daddy they were usually fun, but Mummy tended to make it quite boring. Every now and then, though, Mummy would surprise him by using her wand to make the taps blow huge pink bubbles, or by telling a really good story. Best of all, sometimes when both Mummy and Daddy were home, they'd both come and play and Daddy would magic William's toys to shoot water at Mummy, and Mummy would magic Daddy's voice so it went all squeaky and he couldn't talk properly.
Once both he and William were clean, Remus wasted no time in getting dressed, helping William into his pyjamas and dressing gown, and settling in front of the mirror for a quick shave. He was almost finished when he realised that William had taken the can of shaving foam and was busy expelling the contents across his own face and all over the bathroom floor. It was hard to be cross with the boy on his birthday, though. Instead he settled for taking the can away and cleaning up as best he could with a damp flannel. When they were both presentable – and William had insisted on putting his cloak and hat back on – Remus picked up his son and together they headed for the hospital wing for a second time, William busily using his new wand to cast spells on everything from passing house elves to suits of armour.
This time, they passed through the double doors onto the main ward without impediment. As they rounded the corner there was a loud chorus of "Happy Birthday, William!"
Minerva was sitting propped up on pillows looking red faced and exhausted, but happy. Waiting around the bed next to her were Albus, Cynthia (who also looked as though she'd been made to have a bath before being allowed in), Xiomara and Poppy. A nearby trolley held a large birthday cake in the shape of a lion, along with a large glass of lemonade and a pile of neatly wrapped parcels. All three candles on the cake were burning brightly.
"Happy birthday dear William! Happy birthday tooo yoooou!"
William gazed entranced as the faculty finished singing, to shy to do anything other than stare at them. Remus ruffled his hair affectionately.
"Say thank you, William!"
"Thank you," William mumbled distractedly, still gazing in awe at Mummy and the rest of the teachers, and then at his birthday cake.
Remus lifted William up so that he could blow out the candles. Once his son was settled on the bed and opening the first of his presents, Remus turned to his wife.
"I'm sorry I'm late."
He wrapped an affectionate arm around her shoulders and kissed her softly.
"It's fine," Minerva assured him. "Honestly you wouldn't have been able to help and you'd have driven me crazy fussing. You've come at just the right time."
"Did Poppy say how long it's going to be?"
"Put it this way: I expect we'll be celebrating a double birthday next year."
Minerva stiffened slightly, one hand on her stomach. The other gripped Remus' hand tightly for several long minutes until the contraction subsided. In the background they could both hear William laughing happily as he opened his presents. Poppy had already made the bed up for him so that they didn't have to worry about finding someone else to look after him for the night.
Feeling her husband's arm around her and listening to her son playing nearby made Minerva feel a lot better. It had been a very quiet afternoon, and whilst that had been a good thing given the circumstances, she was still happier to have the rest of her small family with her.
As Minerva relaxed, Remus lifted his own hand to gently pat her swollen belly.
"Hello, baby," he said softly.
"I want to say hello to the baby."
They both turned to see William watching curiously, no longer interested in his new toys and the discarded wrapping paper that surrounded him.
"Do you like your presents, William?" Minerva asked.
William nodded.
"Mummy, can I come and sit with you?"
"Just for five minutes," Remus said firmly. He placed his hands under William's arms and lifted him smoothly across to perch beside his mother's pillow.
Minerva kissed her son's forehead.
"Did you have fun with Uncle Albus?"
"I drew pictures," William informed her. "And 'Fessor Sprout showed me the really big flowers. And me and Haggid did painting."
"Well, you're very clean."
Unseen by Minerva, Remus turned to raise his eyebrows at his former colleagues. Sure enough, guilty expressions appeared on the faces of both Albus and Cynthia, whilst Poppy gave him her best 'I told you so' look and Xiomara was too busy cutting another slice of cake to notice. The lemonade jug was almost empty.
William reached out his hand to gently pat his mother's stomach, as he'd seen his father do earlier.
"Mummy," he asked drowsily. "Can the baby hear me now?"
"The baby will hear quite enough of you when she's born, William."
William yawned deeply. It had been a long and busy day and his eyes were starting to shut all by themselves. He watched Daddy tidy away the wrapping paper that still littered the bed next to Mummy's, and say good night to the other teachers as they left.
"I'm a wizard, Mummy," he said sleepily.
"Well, even the most powerful wizards have to go to bed."
"Even Uncle Albus?"
"Even Uncle Albus," she confirmed.
"I want to see the baby."
"You can see the baby tomorrow, William," Remus interjected. "Now say goodnight to Mummy."
Once William was finally asleep, Remus drew the curtains around his bed and slipped quietly out. He found his wife sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily. Most of the lamps had been dimmed and a nearby window was open to let in the cool evening breeze that was a welcome change from the earlier heat. Poppy Pomfrey was washing her hands in a nearby basin.
"She's almost there," she informed Remus. "You might want to sit with her for a bit. She's quite uncomfortable now."
"Right."
Remus went to stand beside the bed and Minerva gratefully leant forward, reaching her arms around his shoulders to give herself a bit more support. Remus gently stroked her back.
"In case I haven't told you before, Mrs Lupin," he murmured softly, "you are amazing."
Even after four years, the name still brought him a sense of joy. To Remus, their marriage stood as unflinching testimony to the strength of their relationship. Even through the most difficult times: when they'd struggled to manage her job, his work for the Order and a newborn; when William had had colic and cried for days on end; when the Order had lost Emmeline Vance after a mission had gone horribly wrong… even then he'd always known that if he couldn't survive with Minerva by his side then he'd never cope without her. And as for William… for years Remus Lupin had never dared to even dream of having a family of his own. Even when he and Minerva had married he'd assumed that circumstances would make it impossible. They'd agreed that it would be irresponsible to try and raise a child now that Voldemort was ascending into power again. They'd definitely not been planning to conceive… but somehow William had fought his own way into being. And from the moment that Remus had first found out about Minerva's pregnancy, not a single day had gone past where he'd regretted it.
"Poppy," Minerva said suddenly. "I feel like I want to push."
The nurse came hurrying over, and soon Minerva was settled back on the bed in her husband's arms. Remus watched in wonder as Poppy expertly coached her through the final stages of her labour, still quite unable to convince himself that this was really happening. He'd seen murders and monsters and magic gone wrong – seen things that would make many weaker wizards feel ill just thinking about them - but he'd yet to witness the birth of a child, and somehow that seemed to be the scariest thing of all. What if something went wrong? What if something was wrong, and Poppy hadn't told him because she didn't want him to panic? What if-
"Remus!"
For the second time that day, Poppy's stern shout made Remus jump.
"What?" he muttered, guilty that he hadn't been paying attention.
"I said did you want to feel the baby's head?"
Without waiting for an answer, she took his hand and pulled it downwards, until it came to rest against something warm, slippery and round. Minerva let out a sharp cry and, on Poppy's instruction, started to pant heavily.
"Nearly there," Poppy said reassuringly.
Remus was dimly aware that he, too, was supposed to be encouraging his wife, but from the second he'd felt his daughter's tiny head, he'd been too stunned to speak. Instead he watched dumbstruck as Poppy Pomfrey's experienced hands guided the baby gently into a strange new world. Minerva fell back into his arms and struggling to catch her breath, whilst Remus gazed in amazement at the tiny pink form nestled in the nurse's arms.
My daughter, he realised suddenly. That's my daughter!
There was a brief moment of silence and he squeezed his wife's hand tightly.
And then their newly born infant spluttered slightly and started to cry loudly.
"Congratulations!" Poppy said warmly. "She's beautiful."
Once the cord had been cut, Poppy swiftly checked the baby over, cleaned her up and wrapped her in a fresh blanket. She was easing the warm bundle into Remus' arms almost before he was aware of what was happening, but he took his daughter gratefully and rocked her gently in his arms as she gurgled softly, presumably in protest at being removed from her comfortable home. Her placid demeanour was a sharp contrast to William, who had still been crying when Remus had finally met him for the first time, twelve hours after his birth.
"Daddy," came a small voice from behind the closed curtain. "Is the baby here now?"
"You should be asleep, William."
But Remus couldn't really blame his son for being excited. He slipped through the curtains to find William sitting up in bed, his unicorns curled on the pillow beside him. Remus knelt down beside the bed so that he could hold their new arrival at William's level. William gazed silently at her, then reached out one of his own hands to curiously touch that of his sister.
"Did the baby really come out of Mummy's tummy?" he asked his father.
"Yes. Just like you did. But she's only little so you'll have to help me and Mummy take care of her."
William considered this.
"Is Mummy all right?" was his next question.
Remus smiled.
"Yes, William. You can see her in the morning."
There was another pause. Remus studied his daughter's tiny face with it's delicate, miniature features. She was like a porcelain doll, so perfect it was hard to believe she was real.
"What's the baby called?"
"Tara," Remus said. "Tara Molly Minerva Lupin."
They'd chosen the name together: Tara because they both liked it; Molly in honour of the woman who'd so bravely supported Minerva when William was born; and Minerva at Remus' insistence. They were planning to ask Molly and Arthur to be godparents this time around, and Remus hoped that they would accept.
"Tara Molly 'Nerva Lupin," William echoed. "Daddy, I'm called Lupin too, aren't I?"
"Yes, William. We're all called Lupin."
Remus couldn't help the faint echo of pride that drifted into his voice. These are my children, he reminded himself. Our children. Our family.
He tucked his son back into bed as best he could with one hand, and gave him another goodnight kiss.
"Mummy and Daddy love you very, very much, William," he whispered. "Now go to sleep."
He pulled the curtains back around the bed and whispered a simple spell to stop them letting in too much noise. Then he turned his attention back to Minerva.
"Is he all right?" she asked anxiously.
"He's fine," Remus assured her. "Just excited."
He sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly, carefully passed Tara across to her mother, who yawned deeply and then apologised.
"Not at all," Poppy said sympathetically. "You've had a long day. We'll just give this little one a feed and then you can get some sleep – before William wakes you at the crack of dawn wanting to see the baby."
Minerva smiled at the mention of her son. She hoped he wouldn't find it too hard to adjust, now that he was no longer their only child.
"Poor William. I've hardly seen him since this morning, and on his birthday of all days."
"Oh, I think he's had a pretty exciting birthday," Remus said decidedly. "And just think" – he leaned over to kiss his wife – "next year, we'll not only have to make it even more exciting for him, we'll also have another birthday to celebrate! Twice the fun!"
Minerva rolled her eyes.
"Heaven forbid," was all she said.
fin.