Chapter 6: Dr. Potter
The green flames faded away as Harry appeared in the Weasley fireplace. "Hermione?"
"We're in the kitchen, Harry!"
Harry turned the corner to find Rose at the table, and Hermione fiddling with the microwave.
"And what do you think you are doing, young lady?"
Rose frowned. "Eating breakfast, Uncle Harry."
"Not to sound rude, Rosie dear, but I wasn't actually talking to you," Harry explained with a wink. He strode up to the microwave and took over extracting what seemed to be a hot lunch before his sister-in-law got the chance.
"Honestly, Harry, I'm not fragile!" Hermione huffed.
"No, you're just pregnant. With my nephew. In my world, that's the same difference." He placated his obsessive behavior by pecking her on the cheek, and she softened. "Ready to go?"
"Yup. You ready, Rosie?"
"I'm ready, Mama!"
Harry laughed. "All right. Let's get you to Aunt Ginny; Albus is excited to play with you!"
After dropping Rose off at his house, Harry accompanied Hermione to the Ministry of Magic. It would be a bit before his sister-in-law had to go on maternity leave, but Harry did not want her to risk anything by traveling alone. The siblings parted ways at Hermione's office, promising to meet up for lunch in a few hours.
When lunchtime finally came, Harry sat across from Hermione to find her boiling mad over something she was reading.
"Look at this! I can't believe it, she's done it again!"
"Rita Skeeter?" Harry guessed sympathetically.
"Who else? Get a load of this rot: Certain sources claim that Ronald Weasley was murdered by Harry Potter, the Chosen One himself, in an attempt to cover up the fact that he fathered a child with the late Auror's wife, Hermione Weasley! Claims of a relationship between the claimed brother and sister-in-law have persisted for years, and this may yet be the firmest proof we have!"
Harry burst out laughing. Hermione's mouth fell open.
"Harry, I don't think it's-"
"Oh, 'Mione, come off it! You might as well just feed that paper to Crookshanks; honestly, does anyone actually believe this garbage?"
"More than you might think," Hermione replied glumly. Harry looked around. As if to prove her point, more than a few colleagues were eyeing them strangely around the mess hall.
"I guess tabloids make dumbasses of most people," Harry observed.
Hermione took his hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry they think that of you, you know," she admitted.
Harry laughed again. "I should be dying of shock that they have as much imagination as that. Rita Skeeter or not!" Hermione joined in his giggling, before starting to rise.
"Don't over-exert yourself…."
"Fine, I'm fine." She waved him off. "I have to get back anyway; I've fallen behind on a report on legal Hippogriff breeding."
Harry eyed her mirthfully. "You? Fallen behind?"
"It happens to the best of us - especially when you're pregnant! Don't wait for me this afternoon; I won't be out on time. Can you watch Rosie for a few hours?"
Harry nodded. "Be proud to."
"You're the best!" She kissed his forehead. "Goodbye - and goodnight! Love you!"
"Love you," Harry echoed, ignoring any curious looks that might have been sent his way.
Thank goodness spring was in full bloom. The warmth was a nice change. But all the same, Harry hurried to the lifts as soon as the 5:00 bell rang. One dash of Floo powder and he was on his way to his sister-in-law's house. Technically, residential wizarding homes weren't supposed to be connected to the Ministry's networks, but being the Chosen One did have its unique perks.
Moments later, he stepped into the Weasley living room.
"Yay! Chudley Cannons time!" Rose gave her uncle a big hug, and Harry absent-mindedly patted her head, carefully watching Hermione as she shuffled down the last few steps from upstairs. The baby looked like it might come any day.
"Hey." He greeted her with a hug and peck on the cheek. "Everything still OK?"
Hermione smiled. "No new movements from this little man -" she patted her swelling stomach. "- and Rosie has been ready to watch the game for hours!"
"She definitely got Ron's sports-fan complex!" Harry chuckled.
"CHUDLEY CANNONS FOREVER!" Rose whooped as she now bounced up and down on the couch as though it were a trampoline.
"That's right, little monkey! But mind you, this family holds a special place for the Harpies too, your Aunt Ginny being an alum and all. Now sit down, and I'll get it on."
There was something noble about watching a team you knew was an underdog. Such a feeling probably explained why Ron had remained a loyal Cannons fan throughout his life, despite the team's dreadful record. Harry bit back a smile as Rose loudly complained at the ref over a call that had clearly been a foul for her team.
"You know, Dudley and I used to get this way over the Chicago Cubs and baseball. Uncle Vernon was a big fan of them and always believed they'd see the World Series again," Harry talked over his niece's head. Hermione smiled knowingly.
"What's the Chicago Cubs?" Rose piped up.
"Muggle stuff, honey," Hermione explained away. It was one of the things she and Harry loved connecting on, sharing their Muggle childhoods. Suddenly, she clutched her stomach.
"OH!"
"What's wrong? What happened? Rose, turn the volume down, please!" Harry demanded.
"I feel funny…. something…. Merlin, I think….."
Harry filled in the blanks. "Your water broke!"
Hermione nodded frantically. Harry sprung into action.
"Rose, turn it off and no arguing!"
"But-"
"No Buts! We'll listen to the recap later! Right now, we're going to meet your brother." Harry scooped Hermione into his arms, bridal-style, and turned to his niece. "Your mummy got an overnight bag ready. You know where it is?"
A terrified Rose nodded.
"Get it," he ordered. "And come right to the fireplace afterwards!" he hollered as the little girl raced upstairs.
Harry turned back to his sister-in-law. "Hermione, you're gonna be OK. I promise."
Thankfully, St. Mungo's was a short Floo away. Harry burst out of the fireplace, while still carrying Hermione, without even looking like he was breaking a sweat. Auror training could really whip a guy into shape. He raced up to the receptionist.
"My sister-in-law's having a baby! We need a Healer now!"
Once again, being Harry Potter had its advantages, and a Healer and stretcher were called in right away. Hermione was wheeled away, and Harry quickly followed.
"Hey, wait for me!" Rose called.
"Rose, I need you to stay where you are." Harry ordered.
"But -"
"Stay in that waiting room! I'll come back to get you!"
Rose obeyed her uncle. Harry followed Hermione all the way into her room. Healers methodically set her up and began to measure how much she had dilated. As soon as that was done and he was sure she was safe, Harry left to check on Rose.
His nerves got the better of him as he emerged into the waiting room, and he began to literally dry-heave. The hacking coughs got so bad, Harry had to lean, panting, against the wall.
"Happens to every father, no matter how many kids there are." Harry turned to see a wizard his age eyeing him knowingly.
"I'm…. I'm the uncle, actually. The…. baby's father passed away." Why does everyone assume Hermione and I are an item? Scanning the room, he found Rose in one corner, looking at some coloring books, and relaxed. Everything was set. Now he just had to inform the rest of the family.
Many hours later, Hugo Ronald Weasley was born. Once again, Harry was named godfather. As he held his nephew, Harry's one regret was that Ron was not there to see it.