Chapter Twenty

As, less than two minutes later indeed, a dressing-gowned Poppy; eyes big and sleepy, arrived in the door-opening, Minerva looked up from the book she had picked up, smiling between two cramps.

"Hello, Poppy. Seems like the little one has decided to arrive a little earlier than originally planned."

Minerva was surprised at her own, calm tone- even when a contraction arched her back in pain. Poppy obviously was as well, for, snatching the book out of Minerva's hands, she shook her head.

"I'll honestly never believe you- goodness, lie down, don't sit up, don't you dare touch that book anymore and don't you give me that glare! You have a child to deliver here!"

Minerva rolled her eyes, then quickly obeyed. Indeed lying down was more comfortable to her terribly aching back- but she had always felt uncomfortable lying down when not asleep. It was such a- useless pastime. And yet she knew very well that this time, no-one could ever label it to be useless. It was as Poppy said indeed. She had a child to deliver. Yet another, impish smile graced her face as she noticed her husband, standing slightly lost next to the bed, obviously totally at loss of words as Poppy sat down at Minerva's feet. The black-haired witch merely squeezed her husband's hand.

'Wish me luck." she mouthed, and he nodded, worry shining from every look from his blue eyes. Poppy merely rolled her brown ones.

"Albus, sit down next to your wife." the Mediwitch instructed with a faint gesture of her hand.

"Hold her hand and keep holding it even if she manages to break it. Understood?"

It was remarkable, Albus reflected, how many Professor McGonagall-traits Madam Pomfrey all of a sudden possessed- and yet almost automatically, Albus threw an arm around his wife instead. The grateful smile he received, accompanied by her snuggling deeper into his chest as another wave of pain overcame her, convinced him that she liked this better as well, and Poppy merely shook her head.

"Alright, Minerva, this will take a few more hours."

Hours? Minerva stared at Poppy in disbelief. Was she supposed to just lie here for hours, just to stare at the ceiling and wait, now and then feeling this horrible- kind of strange pain- setting her abdomen on fire.

Oh wonderful. Minerva watched the arrows on the clock tick time away, and sighed. It would be a long night indeed.

But all thoughts of time were forgotten very soon, for as the contractions gradually started to intensify and quicken in pace, Minerva found it very, very hard indeed to focus on any rational thoughts any longer. She was aware of Albus's arm around her, of his beard tickling her ear and of Poppy rummaging somewhere- down there. For her own mental health she totally refused to wonder what she was doing- but it hurt.

Resting her hands against her swollen belly, she started panting as another sharp, deep contraction cut straight through her back once more. Her own uncontrolled breath surprised her- but she did not think anymore. Her hands folded tightly around her all of a sudden enormous-looking belly, she closed her eyes as she heard the Mediwitch's voice speak the words she had anticipated and feared all the time.

"Minerva- push!"

And she did push- of course she did. Her own cry tore her ears apart- senses all of a sudden gone in overdrive. Now she was glad that she did not hold Albus's hand after all. His arm around her shoulder felt quite as good- and she was one hundred percent sure that she would broken his hand had she been holding it now. It- now come on, Minerva, it is not as bad as a Cruciatus, now is it? the witch heard herself thinking.

The next cry deafened her ears though- and there was no more. Albus's eyes above her shone with worry, a faint tear trickling down his parchment-like cheek as he held her.

Oh my darling Minerva- what have I done to you?

Her big, green eyes were glowing with pain, and he could feel her tremble with pain as a long, stifled cry left her thin lips. If- if anything went wrong, he would never forgive himself, he knew. This was all his doing- because of him, she was in such a damn lot of pain, and-

"Minerva- Minerva, I am so sorry…"

But the contraction had subsided once more- for a short time- and apparently even whilst in labour, his beloved wife could still raise her eyebrow in that delightful way of hers.

"It's- okay, Albus. Just- remember- that you're never- so much as- touching me- again, okay?"

But the mischievous grin she sent him, despite the next, heavier, contraction, quite consoled him, and in a soothing gesture, he rested his cool hand against her sweaty forehead.

Until-

"Min, push like you've never pushed before! I can see its head!"

The shriek of the Mediwitch was not so much frightened as it was triumphant- and her chubby cheeks showed two fiery blushes as she gently patted her friend's belly.

"Any minute now, Min- any minute!"

Albus stared at her in surprise and Poppy faintly nodded. He could hardly believe it, though. He'd anticipated this moment for so long- and now all he was worried about was his wife's health. She tried to be brave, of course, but she looked very pale indeed- very weak, too, and her lips had lost all colour. He knew the Mediwitch shared these worries of his- though she would never voice them.

It would be a very close run indeed.

But all two of them had underestimated the power of a desperate Lioness indeed, for with a last, teary, almost- wounded scream, Minerva arched her back in pain, and the next thing Albus noticed was Poppy Pomfrey catching a small- crying- form in her arms.

He couldn't believe it.

Minerva could, though- and a faint smile spread on her sweaty face.

"I- did it."