CHAPTER THREE: GROWN MEN DON'T CRY
7 months later (February 1999)
It had been seven long and grueling months since that day in the kitchen. Seven LONG months, filled with mood swings and infinite amounts of chocolate and pickles.
Harry suddenly felt a sharp pain in his hand, and looked down to see the tips of his fingers protruding from his wife's hand grip, which was so tough it was cutting off Harry's circulation and turning his fingers purple.
He moaned a little as her grip tightened and tried to pry her fingers loose. After a few failed attempts, he gave up and let his hand fall limp.
"Harry, why the hell am I in this position? Who put me here? " Hermione cried through gritted teeth.
Harry decided that there was nothing more painful for a man than a woman in labor.
Hermione's cries intensified as the contraction interval increased.
"Push, Hermione, Push" the nurse called.
With strength Harry didn't know she still had in her, Hermione scrunched up her pretty face and gave one tremendous push. Seconds after she relaxed, a baby's first cries filled the room, just as both Harry and Hermione began to cry.
"It's a boy! Congratulations, Daddy, you have a son!"
The nurse placed a clean little boy into Harry's arms. He kissed the boy's head, and looked at his wife.
"What's his name?" Harry asked Mrs. Potter.
"Charlie. Charles Sirius Potter." She said quietly.
What Hermione said hit Harry in the gut. She knew how much he loved Sirius, and didn't even have to ask before naming their son after him. He loved her. He really did. He couldn't thank her enough, and decided instead to kiss her over and over.
While Hermione was sleeping, Harry picked up their young son and walked out to Remus and Ron. Both jumped up to greet him. Remus was first to reach him.
"What's his name?" Ron asked.
Harry spoke quietly, quoting his wife. "Charlie. Charles Sirius Potter."
Harry had never seen Remus shed a tear, not even when Sirius had died, but he did now, the other two men crying with him.