So this is what it's really like.
"Harry," a quiet voice called urgently, shaking his shoulder bringing him out of a rather peaceful dream.
"Mummmna mooo bumble bumble," he replied, burring his head deeper into the pillows.
"Harry, you have to get up. It's time to go."
"Surrry Aun Tunia. No time yet. Sleep."
"Harry, it hurts. Get. Out. Of. Bed. 'Time for St. Mungo's."
"Arthur's fine. Just a snake."
"Aquamenti."
"Ahhhh! Wha? What? Ginny!" Harry cried as he covered his leaded arms over his head. "What. Are. You. Doing?"
"Your stubborn sleeper, you know that? Voldemort could be resurrected from the dead, at the threshold of your door and you'd..."
"Don't say that! Never say that! What are you on about anyway?" he growled, grabbing his wand and drying himself off and glancing at the clock. "It's three in the morning! I've only been home an hour-"
"I certainly didn't decide to have your child wake me at this... Ohhhhh!" she cried suddenly, grabbing the end of their wrought-iron bed and panting hard.
"Wha? Is it... is it time?"
"Yes," she said through ragged panting breaths.
"Are you sure, this time?" he asked somewhat dubiously.
"What. Do. You. Think?" Ginny snarled through clinched teeth.
Ron had confided in Harry a few days before on a increasingly rare afternoon luncheon that the most terrifying thing for a wizard was to watch his significant other go through childbirth. He said that they had a tendency to do bits of wild magic that would cause even bravest of Gryffindor's to loose their cool, and that how you knew they were truly in labor. Watching Ginny now, the whites of her eyes appearing to glowing in the darkness of the bedroom and her hair floating around her like Medusa's snakes, Harry had to admit, Ron might just have been right.
"Ok, " Harry said uncertainly, trying to clear the dusty attic his head was currently mimicking of the cobwebs and muck to remember what needed to be done. "Did you repack the bags?"
"NO."
"Right, you just breathe, and I'll pack the bags."
Harry glanced uneasily at his wife and crept a quietly as he could from the bed, grabbing his glasses and heading for the bathroom.
Harry switch on the shower, grabbed a towel and chanced a look at himself in the mirror. Lack of sleep never did him well, and tonight was no better. His eyes were blood-shot and his hair ever more wild than the branches of a rose bush. His first child would have to come the night of the mid-night madness sale, he thought to himself jumping the shower. Bloody Weasley's and their timing; it was the doing of her side of the family he was sure.
Not to mention the last month had been a literal hell for the both of them. Three baby showers, seven visits to the healers and scare that involved Ginny not feeling the baby move for several hours, gas and a bag of peanuts.
And then there was Molly Weasley.
The steam rose swiftly prodding his eyes open as he bathed himself awake. He was about the shampoo his unruly mop when the shower curtain abruptly pulled open and the murderous glare of his once beautiful wife stared at him. "You have no time for a shower! This is not going out to dinner! To a quiddich match! This isn't even scheduled healing! This. Is. A. Baby! GET. THE. BAGS. POTTER!"
"Potter? But Ginny, I need to wake for this. It's the first and I don't want to smell like I've just been working in the shop all night, all right? Surely the baby can't be coming already. I'll just be a mom-"
"NOW!"
Ginny Potter stormed back into the depths of the bedroom without another word, leaving Harry stunned and speechless.
"Ok," he said to no one in particular as he pulled himself together and out of the shower.
He brushed his teeth as quickly as dared, his green eyes darting to the bathroom door every few moments to make sure his wife was not coming. He chanced a bit with the comb, but gave it up as a bad job. "It's ok, dear," said the Mirror above his sink knowingly, "No one will care at the hospital."
Harry stuck his tongue out at the mirror, and walked in the bathroom closet to grab their suitcases. "Do you know what you want to wear, Gin? I don't think you'll fit into most of this at first. You know, extra baby weight and all that. Did you buy some larger sizes or do you want me to get your maternity things?" he called looking at her section of clothing in the closet discriminately.
She didn't answer right away so he figured she must have gone to get the baby bag that had been packed weeks prior. Harry sighed and looked through some of the larger clothing she has worn during her pregnancy, when he heard a small sob from behind him.
"Gin?"
"Extra baby weight?" she said feebly. Her eyes were as red as her hair now, and her freckled cheeks we stained with tears. "You think I'm going to be portly after this baby comes, don't you? Don't deny it, I've sent they way you've looked at my stomach when you think I'm not looking. You think I'll be round like my mother. Well I won't Harry Potter! I will not!" she cried folding her arms over her ample belly, and turning a sobbing silently into her shoulder.
Harry gulped, and attempted to put his arms around her shoulders gently, but gave up and dropped them by his side. He wasn't exactly sure if he should touch her. "Ginny? The only reason I've been looking at your belly funny is because you've had a foot poking through the skin for the last month and a half. That is a bit odd. But I don't think you will look like your mother, really-"
"I suppose that's my fault is it?" she asked turning on him. "That I've had a deformed stomach with a foot poking out of it?"
"No of course not. It just means the baby will be big, that's all. It is late-"
"So we'll have a fat baby? Is that it? Well if it we do it's your fault! That didn't come from my side of the family! Mum's babies were always right one time and the perfect weight. Honestly Potter you've got some nerve. First me now our unborn," she said throwing her arms up in the air and storming out of the bathroom once more.
Harry stood dumbly for a moment before mouthing the word 'Potter' and shaking his head. He sighed and rested his head on the frame of the door. "This is going to be a long, long night."
"And don't talk about my mother like that, Potter!" she snarled from the other room.
Harry raised his head despairingly. "Yes dear," he said.
After quarter of an hour of directions of what to pack, what not to pack, what wear to the hospital, what not to wear to the hospital, how awful a person he was, interspersed with contractions that were coming at regular seven minute intervals, Harry 'Potter' was ready to ignore the catastrophic mess his bedroom and spouse had become and crawl back under the covers of his glorious looking bed defeated. Facing the Dark Lord was easier compared to this he had decided as she lobed a shoe in his direction only to bend double once more. At least he didn't have to watch his bride and her increasingly irate and uncontrollable mood swings separated by watching helplessly as she suffered through pain so awful it brought tears to her eyes.
Ginny was a tough girl. He simply couldn't believe that something could be as bad as what she was describing. He figured she was just tired.
"Tired? Tired? Potter it feels like someone found a way to hone the Cruciatus on to my pubic bone. Now get the bags, I have to go pee again. I'll meet you by the floo."
"Yes dear," he said under his breath running a hand over his face and into his hair.
He gathered up the twelve bags he had been ordered to pack and levitated them towards the Floo connection in the front room of their modest but comfortable cottage.
He waited leaning against the fireplace, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. He figured this would be his only chance rest for the next three of four hours, he might as well take the break where he could get it.
"Harry?"
Ginny's voice calling down the hallway as if scared pulled him out of his doze faster than anything short of natural catastrophe would have. He raced down the hallway in the bedroom bathroom as fast as his weary legs would carry him.
"Gin? What the -" Harry stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened and stomach lurched into the back of his throat all the while he fought desperately at the urge to run. Ginny was still sitting on the toilet, her eyes serious, and he hand outstretched holding in the palm of her hand an oozy, slimy, jellylike like substance that was tinged with blood. "What is that?"
"Mucus plug," she said pulling her hand back under her face. "I knew there would be some - the books - which you were supposed to read - describe it. It didn't know it was so, so -"
"Hideous? That came out of you?"
"No, Potter, I have Screwt bits on my hand. Hagrid popped in for a visit. Of course it came out of me!" she exclaimed. "Contractions open of the cervix, on top of the cervix is this stuff," she said waving her hand at him. "You should know this!"
Harry gulped and fought back a wave of nausea.
"Well get me a vial. The healers may want to see."
"Gin, I think they've seen one before-"
"They've not seen mine, have they? Get a vial."
"Yes dear," Harry replied retreating as quickly as he could from the room.
Harry and Ginny Potter we not large fans of potion brewing. They could whip something up if necessary, but for most other things they relied on pre-bottled potions or Hermione to help them. In extreme cases the twins could be trusted for help, but only in severe life threatening cases.
Harry searched through their nearly bare supply cabinet in their small kitchen fruitlessly. There was not an empty vial to be had among the dried herbs and pickled parts. Harry banged his head on the pantry door.
"What in Merlin's name is taking so long?" Ginny called. Harry sighed and approached the bathroom uncertainly.
"There are no vials," he said as plainly as he dared.
Ginny's only reaction was to scrunch up her face and double over on the toilet, breathing hard.
Harry kneeled beside her, placing a comforting hand on her back, counting off the seconds on his watch. "45... 46..."
"If we don't have any, get one from Fred and George's. They ought to have some in the shop."
"Are you sure? These contractions are getting closer together and longer each time. Don't you think we should head on? Is this really necessary?"
She looked at him sharply, but then nodded resignedly.
"And please hurry, I'd rather not be stuck in the loo all night."
Harry kissed the top of her head before she could object and raced to floo. In a flash and yell of "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!" he was in he backroom of the twins shop.
"Harry, old boy! Back for some more torture? We've still some customers left out there who would just love to see you," Fred Weasley said, poking his head around the corner from the front of the shop. "Hey everyone! I would like to introduce you to our favorite brother in law.
"No, Fred, wait! I don't have time!" Harry hissed.
"Yes, our favorite brother-in-law," echoed George Weasley's voice. "The man who gave us the initial investment to start this place! And to bring you all of our fine, fine products."
"Fred!"
"The man who not only gave us the initial investment to start our four star shop and product line, but the man who also gave us the freedom to continue and to enjoy ourselves by defeating the Darkest of Lords in centuries!"
"Fred!
"The man who stands just behind this curtain, who also works for us on occasion, as in every day, please give a warm round of applause for -"
But what George Weasley was about to announce to the patrons would never hear. He clutched at his throat and tried to speak but not a sound escaped his lips. It seemed that Fred was suffering similar fate because they both scowled and mouthed to each other wordlessly.
"Those two can be the most unobservant men I have ever met," said a groggy voice from behind him. He wheeled around to find Angelina Johnson staring daggers through the curtains, her housecoat in disarray and most of her hair on the wrong side of her head. "You'd think they'd learn."
She rolled her eyes once and greeted Harry with a much different face. "So it's finally time then?" she smiled.
"Er, yeah... but how did you?"
"Besides the fact that it's three-thirty in the morning , your barely dressed, not to mention back already, and it's about damn time? That kid is two weeks over-due."
"Yeah... Listen, I just dropped by for a vial-"
"She doesn't need to take the plug."
"I know that, and you know that but there is no talking to her at the moment."
"True," she said nodding her head knowingly, "I'll get one for you."
Angelina walked off in the direction of the supply room as Fred and George entered from the main sales room looking mutinous and pointing at their throats. Harry couldn't help but smirk.
"I don't even have my wand," he said holding up both hands. Which was perfectly true. It was currently sitting atop the mantel waiting to go to St. Mungo's. "You'll have to ask your wife to lift, Fred. She'll be back in a moment."
Fred raised an eyebrow and George rolled his eyes plopping himself on to oversized, over-used sofa.
"Here you are, " Angelina said passing him two clean vials and scowling at her husband.
"Thanks, I only needed the one though."
"No, you'll need two. Trust me. Now as for you two-" She said waving her wand at the pair. "Harry doesn't need any more trouble tonight. He has enough to be going on with."
"And why is that?"
"How many times have you been through this, Fred Weasley? You should know the look."
Fred and George studied him up and down for a moment before yelling, "Mum!" and dashing for the fireplace.
"NO!" Harry cried grabbing for their cloaks as they race passed him. He had no idea how he had the strength left to stop them in their tracks let along hold them there, but the thought of Molly fussing even more so even before they arrived at the hospital was as good a force as any. "Ginny said, not until she is almost there. Fred, don't kick me!"
"Why can't we tell Mum?" George said despondently.
Harry let go of them and shoved his hands in he pockets. "She said something about being fussed over enough by the healers. I'm supposed to let everyone know when she's ready."
Fred and George gave each other and amused knowing look. "Errand boy."
Angelina smacked Fred upside the head playfully.
"Right, well, thanks and if you'll excuse me," he said heading for he fireplace. "We'll let you know, and don't tell Molly yet!" he said as the twins shop disappeared in front of him, spinning out of sight.
Harry said not a word as he reentered the bathroom. Simply placing the vials on the counter he rubbed Ginny's back and stroked her hair as she was doubled over and breathed through another contraction.
"All better?" he asked when the breathing became normal again.
"No," she said bitterly. "We have to go, they're getting stronger."
"Right. We're all ready."
He walked back to the parlor to wait for her to finish up and collect the thing that he still couldn't believe had that has desecrated the Nirvana that was his brides body.
She walked slowly, but purposely out of the bedroom and over to him next to the fire. She searched the room with a slight fear in her eyes but shy, introspective, upward curve at the corners of her lips.
"So, this is it," she said finally looking him in the eye. "No more us. After today it will be us."
Harry's heart sped a little faster, his breathing became a little deeper, and her words sealed around his mind like a warm hug in a form of a vice grip. Yes, he thought. Us.