The Warmth of Your Tiny Hand
A/N: Title from a John Denver lyric. I don't speak French so if my use of internet translation is off, please correct me. I would also like to extend a thanks to everyone following/favoriting/commenting on this series. This is my first fic to ever get more than 100 followers, and I am deeply humbled. I would also like to reiterate my thanks to WhistleTheSilver for her encouragement, without which I never would have posted the first chapter.
X-X-X-X
6 June 2005, 0235
Hermione shifted minutely in her seat on the visitor's lounge sofa, smoothing her hand over Teddy's muted purple hair. Her nephew was snoring with his head in her lap. On another sofa were Phil Lovegood and Tim Roberts, leaning into each other and fast asleep. She had tried to sleep, really she had. They'd been at St Winifrede's since the night before. A family dinner out – she and her wife, her brother and sister-in-law, her nephew at a fantastic little seafood restaurant they'd found near Fleur's preferred fishmonger - had turned into the early stages of labor for an overdue Luna. At first thinking it was a bit of indigestion from her lovely scallop plate, Luna had ignored the signs, until a quick diagnostic charm by Fleur led to an insistence that they head to St Winifrede's by Harry.
She had been in the magical world for fourteen years and she still hated the Knight Bus, though since Stan and Ernie were no longer in charge, at least the driving had improved a little. They'd called it outside the restaurant and been in Aberystwyth outside the hospital within minutes once the conductor realized why they needed to use his services – a large reason for the founding of the Knight Bus (previously the Knight Tram and before that the Knight Carriage) had been for those who could not use other means of magical transportation such as portkeys, floo, or Apparition. Which generally meant the young, the elderly, the infirm, or the pregnant. As Luna was very pregnant as well as panting from the onset of contractions, she became the priority passenger.
Hermione looked around. St Winifrede's was familiar, comforting to her. Founded by the Muggle-born Healer son of a doctor in the 1820's, it was the only magical hospital in the United Kingdom that mixed together magical and muggle medical techniques and equipment. It was also the only magical hospital to provide quality treatment for Squibs, werewolves, those of nonhuman ancestry, and muggles injured or sickened by magical means. After the first Healer at St Mungo's to provide a post-War checkup to Teddy had been appalled at his metamorph/werewolf parents, Andromeda and Harry quickly moved his primary care to St Winifrede's. It was also where Fleur had gone through her training and then taken a position in the very ward they were at, and where their friend Padma was a Potions Mistress and Researcher. If the grumbling Hannah was currently engaging in over the policies and politics of St Mungo's was any indication, another friend would soon be joining the ranks of the internationally-acclaimed staff.
"Any word?" came a soft voice from down the hall, accompanied by the smell of coffee.
Hermione turned to catch sight of a haggard-looking Padma carrying two large, steaming mugs. "No, not yet. What on earth are you doing here this time of morning?"
"Potion-making, what do you expect?" Her friend sighed, passing one of the mugs to her, "It had to be carefully monitored at this step, and I needed to add the fluxweed precisely," she checked her watch, "twenty two minutes ago. Which I did. It should be fine for a few hours, thank god. Prajeet was screaming most of last night so I haven't had a good sleep in far too long."
"He still have colic?" Hermione tutted worriedly. Barely three months old, Prajeet Longbottom was already known for his strong lungs and how exhausted his parents continuously appeared. Especially since some of Padma's more volatile experiments could not be put off until after her maternity leave, so she was back to work once or twice a week to tend them.
"Yes. I should probably feel guilty that I had to come in during the middle of the night to move onto the next step in my potion, but honestly I'm thankful for the quiet," Padma admitted.
"Reassuring thought, considering I'll soon be living with an infant, again," Hermione smiled.
"Ah, but an infant with two parents in the house and screaming on a different floor," Padma grinned. "You'll have to cope with that one, though. Not being the only child in the house anymore," she pointed out, gesturing to the sleeping Teddy.
"I know," Hermione sighed. "Only Fleur has any siblings, you know, and she was just a bit older than he is when Gabrielle is born. But it's such a complicated situation."
Padma studied her friend, "What are you worried about?"
Hermione made a quick movement with her hand, sending Teddy into a deeper sleep, and then waving her fingers in a complicated silencing charm. Wandless, silent magic was something she rarely did in public, but Padma already knew about some of her abilities. "We have made sure to teach him about Remus and Tonks. He knows, as well, that he is ours, that we love him as our own, all four of us. But very simply, he also knows he wasn't always ours - he vaguely remembers living with Andromeda. And this baby, Harry and Luna's baby, is theirs in a way he isn't. I don't want him to feel different from her."
Settling into an armchair facing Hermione, Padma sipped at her drink, "Have you noticed, when he shifts, and is not doing the rainbow hair thing – which honestly, he picked up from all the stories everyone's told about Tonks – he has wild black hair and brown eyes?"
She shrugged, "Of course. He's done that since he was a toddler."
"He does that so he looks more like his parents. Like you and Harry," Padma pointed out softly. "I don't think he does it consciously, or to make you love him as your son. I think he does it because you are his parents – functionally speaking, and emotionally speaking - and every child wants to look like their folks. Wants to see the similarities, that they belong." She took a hearty sip of her coffee. "Your situation is unique. A brother and sister raising a child together. But he treats the two of you like parents no matter that he calls you aunt and uncle. In the end, you and Harry are the ones who have raised him the most. You're home with him, you make the decisions about his care, you teach him. Luna and Fleur are very involved and loving and they are his parents as well, but he looks to you two first. I don't think he, or you, truly realize it."
Hermione sat silently, mulling over her friend's words. Thoughts and memories and ideas slotted into place in her mind. Harry had named her Teddy's co-guardian as soon as he assumed full custody from an ailing Andromeda, listing Luna and Fleur as alternates, along with a fairly extensive list of others to take his godson in should the worst happen. In practice, she had helped raise Teddy since the moment she came back from Australia, with the only gap being her last year at Hogwarts. Even then, she was frequently home during the weekends and able to take some of the burden off of Harry as he desperately cleaned and remodeled Grimmauld to be more child-friendly. Not that Teddy was a burden, but no one could strip moldy wallpaper while tending to a fussy baby and as much as Kreacher had improved in disposition, they didn't trust him with a child, while a newly hired Winky was busy with various Potter properties. There were many long weekend days where she hunkered down in her bedroom with Teddy in his bouncer, her coursework spread out around her as she studied for her NEWTs and tended the child she slowly came to see as her own.
Padma gestured to the doorway, which was thrown open, Fleur there in scrubs and robe. With a flick of her wrist, Hermione dropped the silencing charm.
"She's here! Four and a half kilograms, fifty-one centimeters. Mother is doing wonderfully!" came the exultant cry.
Teddy stirred in her lap, and she gently pushed him upright as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. With quick steps, Fleur was in front of her, eyes shining, hair askew.
Grabbing the half-finished coffee from her hands, Fleur downed it in two gulps. "Thank you, love," she said, grinning at her wife and throwing a wink at Padma. "She wants everyone to come see. You as well, Padma, she said everyone."
Long familiar with Luna's gentle and almost eerie sense of the world, Padma nodded. "I'd be glad to."
"Would you like to come meet your cousin, Theodore?" Fleur asked with a soft grin, offering him her hand. He nodded, shyly, reaching for her. She pulled him close, wrapping an arm around him, letting him snuggle close to her body as they walked.
Hermione smiled. Fleur and Teddy's bond was impossibly endearing to her. Rising, she settled a hand on her wife's back, letting Fleur lead them into the ward, Tim and Phil right behind her, Padma trailing nonchalantly and chatting with the two older men.
The delivery ward of St Winifrede's was painted in soft shades of various pastels. Near the nurse's station was a large bulletin board filled with Wizarding pictures of successful deliveries. Hermione noticed Padma, Neville, and Prajeet in one recent photograph. She'd met Prajeet a few days into his life, once they were home from the hospital. Right after birth, Padma looked exhausted, Neville frazzled, and Prajeet had an even stronger resemblance to Winston Churchill than he had had when she'd met him as a five-day-old, his face red and slightly smooshed.
Entering a room with a decorative border of unicorns and crups frolicking ridiculously together, Hermione saw her best friend hovering over his pale, tired wife. "I'm quite alright, Harry. And if you keep looming over me, the nargles will find you far too tempting," came her lilting voice.
A small cry came from the swaddled form in her arms. "Let me take her," Harry pleaded softly.
"Would you like that? Go to your father, now," Luna almost cooed, handing off the newborn to her husband.
"You have company," Fleur said from the doorway, leading Teddy over to the bed.
Greeting their guests with wide, if exhausted, smiles, Harry met Hermione's eyes briefly, his expression beaming, before fixing his attention on Teddy. "'Lo, Teds. I'm so glad you're here. Would you like to meet your new cousin?"
Silently, the boy nodded, letting Fleur guide him closer. Harry dropped gently into a chair pulled beside Luna's bed, and shifted so the baby was curled into one elbow, freeing up his other arm to go around Teddy's shoulders. "Teddy, this is your cousin, Jane Isabelle," he said softly, as his godson studied the baby before him. "Jane, this is your big cousin Teddy."
Hermione smiled, a few tears running down one cheek. Harry and Luna had been surprisingly quiet about what they planned to name their daughter. She leaned softly against her wife, Fleur's arm going automatically around her waist as she did.
"Here, why don't you take her, godmothers," Harry said softly, after a few minutes, rising to hand his daughter to Hermione. "I think she'd like to meet you both."
Once the baby was cradled in Hermione's arms, he tugged his godson into a loose hug, "So did you get any sleep tonight?"
Hermione ignored her brother and nephew's conversation as she concentrated on the new life in her arms. Jane had a thin smattering of her father's dark hair and already displayed her mother's pale silvery-grey eyes. Even in a baby, it was a striking combination. She could feel her wife warm against her back and side, peering over her shoulder. A long, pale finger stroked Jane's arm, and the half-asleep baby gripped it tightly. Grinning, Hermione turned to Fleur, her wife's smile brilliant even through the easily apparent exhaustion.
As the middle of the night wore on, baby Jane was carefully passed around the gathered family, as well as a delighted Padma. When Luna drifted off to sleep, Harry reclaimed his daughter and ushered everyone into the hall. Setting a tender hand on his nephew's shoulder, he turned to Fleur with a cheeky smile, "Well, Healer Delacour, how long until Luna and Jane get to go home?"
"At least a day, Mister Potter," Fleur replied, grinning just as widely. "And as I am off-shift now, I shall take our young Mister Lupin and my dear Hermione home for a nap. If that's quite alright."
"Quite." Harry ruffled Teddy's hair, beaming a grin at the tired if smiling boy, and darted forward to press quick kisses to both Hermione and Fleur's cheeks. "I'll see you soon, then?"
"Of course, Harry!" Hermione couldn't help herself, she pulled her best friend, her brother, into a careful but crushing hug as she maneuvered around her new niece. "Try to get some sleep yourself, and something to eat. Or should we bring you both something when we come back?"
"I'll sleep at least," Harry replied, hugging her back with his free arm. "Now go. Teddy here needs to get into bed, and you look dead on your feet, Fleur."
"Oui." She carefully pried her wife off her brother-in-law and led the tired group out to the public apparition point next to the floo. "I think family dinner will be put off this week," she remarked to Phil and Tim. We shall owl." Turning to Padma, she grinned lopsidedly, "I will see you next shift?"
"I believe so. I'll stop by the ward. If nothing else, I'll have some peace and quiet compared to home."
"Colic still?"
Padma nodded, "If it gets worse, I'll bring him in to you."
"Please do." She motioned for Padma to floo out first, and then picked up Teddy to bring him through to Grimmauld Place.
Her wife dead on her feet behind her, she steered Hermione into a deep cushioned chair by the fire before settling a half-asleep Teddy into his bed, tucking his stuffed hippogriff under his arm as she pulled up the covers.
Fleur laughed softly as she reentered the drawing room. Hermione had curled up in the chair and was snoring. She shrugged off her robes, dumping them into a laundry hamper by the floo, before kneeling in front of her wife. "'ermione," she whispered. "Wake up, 'ermione. It is time for bed."
"That seems rather contradictory," came the sleepy response.
"So it is." Fleur gently pulled Hermione to her feet, and led the exhausted woman up the stairs to their room.
"How are you still awake? You should be the one all sleepy," Hermione moaned softly as she let Fleur undress her and slide a nightgown over her head.
"I'm much more used to it, my love," Fleur pointed out. "It's part of my work." In her pyjamas, Hermione leaned against her wife, head nestled into Fleur's shoulder. "We are not sleeping standing up, 'owever, love." She manhandled Hermione over towards their bed, and pulled down the blankets.
Hermione slumped down to sit on the bed, "I should brush my teeth."
"I am quite sure you can pass for one night," Fleur laughed softly, well aware of her love's anal retentive attention to oral health.
Mostly asleep, Hermione nodded, "I did sometimes, in the tent. I didn't bring enough toothpaste with us." As soon as her head hit the pillow, she slipped fully into dreams with her feet still on the floor.
Fleur smiled softly, her brow troubled as she shifted her wife fully onto the bed and tucked her in. Moving quietly, she changed into her own nightwear and went through her evening routine. Teeth brushed and face washed, she slid into bed. Even asleep, Hermione curled towards her warmth automatically and Fleur drew the other woman into her arms.
Seven years after the end of the war, and she still knew only the barest bones of what had happened during the months the Golden Trio - as the Daily Prophet had described the three - disappeared into the wilds of Britain. She knew their goals and about the horcruxes - which was vastly more information than the average wizard or witch had. She knew they had been without many supplies - the household still rarely ate fish or mushrooms in deference to Harry and Hermione's continued loathing of both foods. And she knew Ronald had left them due to an immature spat of temper. But that she knew only because it was to William that Ron had fled and she had gently questioned her wife about it a few years beforehand. But the thoughts and emotions and daily experiences the two had shared in that tent were secrets they were loathe to share even with their wives.
She shook her head to clear it, pulling Hermione even closer. Her wife's inner demons were not hers to fight. She was there as support and love and home and family if Hermione needed her. With a gentle hand, she ghosted her fingers just above the scars on Hermione's neck and arm, the marks of Bellatrix's torture. She had healed those wounds, to an extent even her most experienced colleagues marveled at. The scars remained while the curses were long dispersed. Though cosmetic magic was readily available to camouflage the marks, Hermione tended to long sleeves and scarves instead. With a sad smirk she had once stated that she had been given those marks for being a muggleborn so she'd cover them as her heritage suggested. Only their closest friends had even seen the scars. It had been difficult for Hermione to explain the why and how of it to Teddy once he was old enough to ask. How it was technically his great-aunt who had inflicted them. Even years later Andromeda flinched every time she caught sight of them, flinched at the violence her sister had reveled in.
The household was entering a new era. Teddy was growing like a weed, the Potter family businesses were finally back on their feet, the Quibbler booming in readership, and Hermione's higher education finally complete. Her thesis had been written on the War, the first academic work truly centered on the sociological and historical implications. For two years, intermittent nightmares had troubled Hermione's sleep. From those fearful ramblings Fleur had learned most of what she knew about her wife's experiences. Fleur sighed, she knew Hermione's current work projects - the first text for the revised Hogwarts history class and a proper new translation of Beedle - would bring up old demons just as their household expanded with Jane's arrival.
There was nothing to do about it after an excruciatingly long day on her feet. As the sun crept towards the horizon, Fleur surrendered to sleep cocooned in warmth with Hermione snoring lightly by her ear.
X-X-X-X
By noon, Fleur was able to stumble from bed semi-coherent, dragging a grumpy Hermione with her. She pulled her wife into the ensuite, stripping the brunette of her clothing as she in turn was disrobed, a gentle dance they had perfected together. Nude, they stepped into the shower, finding that one temperature they could agree on - a little hotter than Hermione wished for and a bit cooler than Fleur preferred. With groggy movements, they washed hair and bodies before stepping towards one another, Fleur's arms pulling Hermione to her, their slick skin tingling as they swayed gently back and forth below the spray of the showerhead.
"Ugh. 'm not awake yet," Hermione grumbled.
"Nor I, but Teddy needs to get up, and eat something, and then we can bring some tea and sandwiches to the hospital," Fleur remarked, her face buried in soaked curly hair.
"You work there, you should be able to lobby for better hospital food."
"I think it's a universal constant, love. Can you get him up while I pull a meal together?"
Groaning, Hermione nodded into her wife's shoulder. "I used to be better at this."
"Long days with little or no sleep? It has been a few years. Since there was a baby in the house."
"He's lucky I love him so."
"We are all lucky that you love us so. Come, we have things to do. People to see."
Sliding one hand down to grip a firm buttock, Hermione smirked unseen, "I'd rather a person to do. Specifically you."
"Mmmm, I as well. But there is no rest for the weary. And no sex for the busy." Drawing her wife's chin up with one hand, she placed a gentle kiss on Hermione's lips. "The sooner we get going, the sooner we'll be home to get back to bed."
"Fine. But I expect tea. Strong tea."
"As ma femme demands," Fleur smirked, reaching behind herself to turn off the water. One long arm reached out of the shower to grab a towel for each of them.
Thirty minutes later, Fleur poured the tea just as Hermione shuffled a washed and dressed Teddy into the kitchen. "Bacon sandwiches," she offered, gesturing to the center of the table where a tall pile resided. "Eat as many as you want, Theodore. If we need to make more for Harry and Luna we shall."
The half-asleep boy fell on his food with gusto, his eyes closed as he chewed and thankfully his mouth as well. The manners his Aunt Hermione had ingrained in him were not to be forgotten even when exhausted. "'ank you, Tante."
"You are most welcome, mon garçon doux," Fleur replied, sinking into her chair next to her wife and taking a deep draught of her hot, sweet tea.
Noticing the rate at which her wife and nephew were consuming their meals, she subtly waved her wand, setting the frying pan back on the fire and levitating a fresh rasher of bacon into the pan.
X-X-X-X
As soon as they walked into Luna's hospital room, both exhausted parents turned to them. The smell of bacon wafted from the small hamper Fleur carried.
"You brought us bacon sandwiches?" Harry said, grinning as he gathered Jane up in his arms. "That means you get to hold the baby first."
"A fair exchange, I believe!" Fleur laughed as she set the hamper on Luna's bed to accept Jane into her arms.
"The so-called food they served us for breakfast was like something Hermione would make," Harry joked as he unwrapped one sandwich from its wax paper and passed it to his wife before tearing into another himself. "And it was with a beverage that was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea."
"Hey!" Hermione mock-glared as she settled into an empty chair and pulled Teddy into her lap. "And you think you're so clever, quoting Douglas Adams!"
The adults all laughed softly. Fleur sunk onto the edge of Luna's bed, her attention fully captured by the baby in her arms. Less than a day old and Jane already had her mother's otherworldly gaze down pat, even as she curled a tiny hand around the finger Fleur offered her. She had never seen Teddy this small, only really spending time with him after she'd moved into Grimmauld Place when he was almost a year old. And while she'd delivered many babies, she rarely got a chance to hold them for any length of time. Even Prajeet Longbottom she had only held for a few minutes before he cried for a feeding.
As Harry and Luna spoke warmly to Teddy, she let her world narrow to just the wide-eyed child in her arms. Until she felt the weight of her wife's gaze on her. Raising her head, she smiled at the soft look Hermione gave her. As Jane gummed on her fingertip, she let the fleeting thought permeate her mind of perhaps someday soon seeing Hermione holding their firstborn. Of holding that little girl in her own arms as Hermione gazed so lovingly at her. She let the warmth of that thought fill her even as she tore her attention from her wife back to her niece. Jane gazed up unfocused, trusting that the warm arms holding her were full of love. And they were.
Veela culture was centered around the primacy of family ties - both those families based on blood and those built on love. Fleur had helped to build a strong family tied together with shared experience and bone-deep faith in those they loved. Like the family her great-grandmothers had built after arrière grand-mère Yvonne had been thrown from her home for loving arrière grand-mère Gunna shortly after the Great War, it was born from the ruins of a violent upheaval. And like her great-grandmothers, all of them made the best out of a bigoted and backwards magical world. And they improved that world for the sake of their offspring. She was quite sure that Teddy and Jane - as well as any other children they had - would face a much better Wizarding Britain than their parents had first encountered.
Fleur smiled as she leaned down to kiss Jane's brow, letting the scent of baby powder and nappies take her back to not only Teddy's earlier years but also the birth of her sister and the many cousins she'd cared for at various times throughout her youth. And as her foremothers had done for generations, she quietly sang for the baby in her arms, welcoming a new life into the world and into her family - into her heart. The subtle magic reached out, tendrils winding around each person in the room as part of Jane's family. The magic bound them together, letting Jane know that these people were ones she could trust, that they would love her no matter what. Jane yawned as the song continued, full of promises of devotion, support, and care. It was normally the mother's joy and honor to sing the song to a newborn, but there was a variation for any close relative to offer up on a child's behalf. Fleur let the tune flow past her lips, aware but uncaring that all discussion had ceased so her family could turn their collective attention to her song. The song spoke of the long history of the Veela, how mothers and daughters traced their histories, passed on their skills, protected the heart of their culture from a world that would sooner erase them. It spoke of the many villages full of Veela families, the traditions that bound them together. And it spoke of how Veela went out into the wider world with the love of their families behind them - and would return to sing new songs of what they had seen. How the songs would change as the people changed, learning from experiences of love, wars won and lost, knowledge gained, all passed down to future generations. Of how she would be a part of those traditions as part of the family of a Veela and could carry that on to her own daughters.
When the song ended, she felt the magic settle over them, pleased with her. She could see as the others became more fully aware of the distinctly Veela spell. Hermione smiled widely, well aware of the feel of her wife's magic. Teddy grinned, revelling in the positive atmosphere the spell reinforced. Harry was pensive for a moment, perhaps reflecting on his own past, before green eyes sparkled behind his glasses and a small smile graced his lips. Luna, meanwhile, carefully leaned forward, still sore, and put a hand on Fleur's elbow near to Jane's tiny head as she pressed a soft kiss to one cheek.
"I 'ope I did not o'erstep," Fleur murmured, her accent thick for a moment as she mentally shifted languages.
"Of course not," Luna replied gently, shifting her gaze between her daughter and her sister-in-law. "No matter the words, that was a song of love, and how can I deny any love for my child? She'll grow up living in many more worlds than just magical Britain, and she'll be all the richer for it. I'm thankful for that." Jane shifted, smacking her lips. "However, I've got to steal her back from you. It's time for her snack. We're almost sure that's her hungry face. Can't deny a newborn her meals, or the wrackspurts will gain an early foothold in her mind."
Fleur laughed, carefully passing Jane back to her mother. Unconcernedly, Luna pulled up her hospital gown and settled Jane at her breast. Harry merely shrugged, and raised his wand to gently close the door. Teddy appeared fascinated - though he had met Prajeet, Padma was by nature and temperament a more modest person and had not breastfed in front of them. Harry gestured his nephew into his lap and quietly explained how Luna was feeding his new cousin.
Rising from the bed, Fleur sat down next to her wife and took Hermione's hand. Their lips met in a soft kiss before Hermione murmured, "Someday, you'll sing that to our daughters, won't you?"
"Oui," Fleur replied, resting their foreheads together. Already she missed having a little body in her arms and a tiny hand warmly gripping her finger. "Oui, I shall."
fin.