He was moving backward, he knew that much. Torches flickered on the walls as he moved past him. He supposed he could be falling down a long corridor, falling headfirst. That didn't explain why Ron and Hermione were falling facedown, or why they appeared to be running, or why he didn't feel the wind rushing past his ears. In fact, all he felt were some pains, about his-ah.
"Where are we going?" he said. His mouth was oddly dry.
"That's what I want to know, " declared McGonagall, falling crisply into step with Hermione and Ron. "This is hardly the best way to get to the hospital wing. I must say, Ms. Granger, Protocol B32-5A has not been enacted in decades. Most people don't even know that there are emergency procedures for students in labor. It's probably buried in some old-"
She glanced at Hermione.
"-book." she finished limply.
"But you have of-age students here," said Ron. "Surely girls give birth all the time?"
McGonagall spared the time to give him a withering look. "I said nothing about girls," she sniffed. "Left, if you please."
They emerged from the passage behind the tapestry to find themselves near the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was waiting for them, and Harry was soon made comfortable-relatively speaking-in the peculiar bed in the corner he had noticed on previous occasions. The straps and harnesses and such rose blithely up and arranged themselves appropriately.
At some point in the ensuing haze, Harry lifted his head and discovered that the clamor in his ears was a roomful of people, all clamouring to be heard, with Madam Pomfrey shoving them back. Snape, McGonagall, Hermione, Dobby, Ron, Draco, Hagrid("Breathe slowleh', Harry!"), Trelawny, and several others were all vying for a word with him. He could've sworn he saw Professor Binns holding a jar and clicking a pair of forceps unpleasantly.
"I didn't know you cared," he murmured to himself, then flopped back.
Eventually, the clamor subsided to a dull roar, and the roar gave way to a decisive soind of wood-on-metal as the door was barred. A few clicks of heels, and Madam Pomfrey was at his bedside. A snap of the fingers, and the bed bought him to a sitting position.
"Drink this," said Pomfrey, shoving a clear bottle half-full of liquid on him. Harry shrank away; glass containers of unknown liquids were what had gotten him in this situation in the first place.
"Just take it, Potter." Draco was leaning rakishly against a bedpost, or attempting to lean rakishly. Harry wondered if the peculiar shivering was a result of his own sweat-blurred eyes. He blinked. No, still there. Draco caught him looking and began to pace tensely around the room.
"It's for stretching," said Hermione, avoiding his eyes. Ron was holding back laughter, and Harry fought down a rising panic.
"Stretching what?" his voice a strangled shout.
"Both," said Pomfrey, replacing a dusty pair of glasses on a shelf. "Congratulations. You're having twins."
Times of great stress are often blocked out as much as possible. The mind blurs long stretches of pain into a grey sameness, and only a few times stand out.
-Harry yelling at Draco, something about you did this to me and scrabbling for his wand, while Hermione and Ron try to stop him, and Draco scrambling for cover.
-A great buildup of pressure, then release. Pomfrey placing the crying child
it's a boy
in a hamper. Harry realized that it had his hair and Draco's eyes.
James Narcissus.
-Rolling onto his front.
-Yelling in pain.
-Rolling onto his side.
-Hagrid visiting with advice.
-Pushing.
-Ron snoring.
-Ron, dimly visible, holding his hand while he clung to the bedsheets, somehow wearing his glasses. Dead silence, but for his own sobs. Biting on a sheet, and cursing Malfoy, the name Malfoy, Hogwarts, anyone else he could think of, and the dawn of the day a letter for him first slipped through the Dursley's mail slot. Hermione, Malfoy, Pomfrey, and, for the first time during the ordeal he could recall, Dumbledore, standing nearby looking grave.
-Release.
- Pale hair, green eyes.
Lucy Molly.
-Draco, Hermione and Ron arguing frantically with Dumbledore as he picks the children up. Harry rising to his elbows, aware that something is wrong. Sudden tightness in the throat, everything disappearing down a dark tunnel.
-Sleep.
(One last chapter.)