CHAPTER 34: PREPARING FOR PARENTHOOD
Harry stirred awake, his slumber interrupted by a sharp pang in his shoulder. He winced, gradually emerging from the depths of sleep. It had been only a few hours since he had managed to find some respite, slipping into bed with a sense of exhaustion weighing heavily upon him.
"Are you alright?" Bellatrix's voice floated to him, thick with sleep.
Harry sighed, his mind still caught in the shadows of the night's events. "Not really. Last night took its toll," he admitted, his voice heavy with fatigue.
"Did you manage to get Greyback?" Bellatrix inquired, propping herself up on one elbow to peer at him in the dim light.
"Yeah, but it was touch and go," Harry confessed, his gaze distant as he recalled the perilous encounter.
"Did he bite you?" concern laced Bellatrix's voice, her eyes searching his face for any sign of injury.
"No, thankfully my armor took the brunt of it," Harry reassured her, shifting uncomfortably as he tried to find a more comfortable position.
"Thank Merlin for small mercies," Bellatrix murmured, a hint of relief evident in her tone. "Imagine dealing with a werewolf Harry Potter," she teased lightly, a small smile playing on her lips.
Harry chuckled softly, despite the throbbing ache in his shoulder. "Well, you'll just have to settle for the regular old me," he quipped, trying to inject a bit of levity into the heavy atmosphere.
As Bellatrix slipped out of bed and made her way downstairs, Harry closed his eyes, hoping to steal a few more moments of rest. Yet, his reprieve was short-lived as he felt the weight of someone settling beside him once more, the covers pulled back to expose his bare chest.
"I am not in the mood, Bella," Harry muttered, his exhaustion seeping into his words.
Harry's eyes snapped open at the sound of Narcissa's voice, his gaze meeting hers as she stood over him, her wand tracing careful patterns in the air above his injured shoulder. He couldn't help but feel a flutter of surprise at her sudden appearance, his mind still foggy from sleep.
"You did some basic healing on yourself, I see," Narcissa remarked, her brow furrowed in concentration as she assessed his injuries.
Harry shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, feeling a flush of embarrassment at his lack of expertise. "I fixed the dislocation in my shoulder and regrew the bones in my forearm, but that's about the extent of my abilities," he admitted sheepishly, his eyes flickering away from her intense gaze.
Narcissa's expression softened slightly, a hint of sympathy touching her features as she continued her examination. "You have three torn ligaments and muscle damage in your shoulder joint, along with a broken collarbone. This must be excruciating," she observed, her voice laced with concern.
"It's much better than it was last night," Harry reassured her, grateful for her efforts to alleviate his pain.
"Did you take any potions?" Narcissa inquired, her focus shifting as she began to cast spells to reduce the inflammation and heal the damaged muscle.
"Just some skele-grow," Harry replied, his tone tinged with weariness.
Narcissa nodded approvingly, her lips pressing into a thin line of approval. "Good, at least you know not to mix potions. Drink this," she instructed, handing him a vial filled with a shimmering blue liquid.
Harry accepted the vial, popping the cork with his thumb before downing its contents in a single gulp, trying to ignore the bitter taste that lingered on his tongue.
"Ugh, what was that?" Harry grimaced in disgust, recoiling slightly from the taste of the potion.
"That was a muscle-repairing potion. You need to take a dose three more times today," Narcissa instructed briskly, her attention still focused on Harry's injuries.
"I said to heal him, not crawl into bed with him, Cissa," Bellatrix interjected, her voice tinged with irritation.
"It's easier to work like this," Narcissa replied distractedly, her wand tracing careful patterns over Harry's chest.
"Fine," Bellatrix huffed, retrieving a morning sickness potion from her nightstand and downing it quickly.
Narcissa continued her examination, her brow furrowed in concentration. "You also have two broken ribs. Brace yourself, the mending charm will be uncomfortable," she warned, her voice tinged with sympathy as she prepared to cast the spell.
Harry nodded in understanding, steeling himself for the discomfort to come. As the spell struck his side, he felt two distinct cracking sounds followed by a searing pain that made him hiss in surprise.
"I can give you a pain reliever in about eleven minutes," Narcissa informed him calmly, her focus unwavering as she continued her scans.
"Is there anywhere else that you're injured?" she inquired, her wand hovering over his stomach and then his other shoulder.
"My right leg, it hurts to walk," Harry admitted instinctively, flinching when Narcissa suddenly flipped the covers off him.
"Cissa!" Bellatrix exclaimed, her voice sharp with reproach.
"I have to see the affected area to treat it. How was I to know he sleeps nude?" Narcissa retorted innocently, her attention already shifting to Harry's leg.
Bellatrix scowled but relented, allowing Narcissa to continue her examination. The swelling around Harry's kneecap was unmistakable, drawing a concerned frown from Narcissa.
"You have a hairline fracture and more torn ligaments in your knee," she diagnosed, her tone matter-of-fact as she prepared to cast the spell to mend his broken leg.
"How long until I can walk on it?" Harry inquired, his gaze fixed on Narcissa's face.
"It should be fine by the afternoon. It's nowhere near as bad as your shoulder," Narcissa assured him, her voice imbued with confidence as she cast another spell to reduce the swelling before his eyes.
Narcissa flipped the covers back over him before digging into her healer's bag. She handed Harry another vial of the blue potion.
"Drink this. I have to give you a double dose to heal the leg," she instructed, standing up from where she had been sitting beside him on the bed.
Harry noticed that Narcissa was wearing another one of her skimpy nightgowns, hinting that Bellatrix had likely dragged her out of bed to come over and heal him. He felt a pang of guilt for the inconvenience.
"Thanks, Narcissa. I feel a lot better," Harry said gratefully, downing the potion despite its bitter taste.
"Bella said you got the job done," Narcissa inquired curiously.
"Yes, Greyback is dead, and Lord Gamp will wake up to find the beast's head in his bed," Harry said softly, relishing the tingling sensation as the potion worked its magic on his shoulder and kneecap.
"Excellent. I will inform Aunt Cassie at once," Narcissa said, making her way out of the room with a satisfied nod.
"A bit of warning would have been great," Harry muttered sleepily.
"Yes, Bella is sorry. You can punish naughty Bella for this later," Bellatrix said in her little girl voice, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "What time is your appointment?" he asked curiously.
"Two o'clock with Healer Miles," Bellatrix said softly.
"Good. I should be healed up by then," Harry said, his eyelids growing heavy as he drifted off to sleep.
Harry woke up again a few hours later, feeling much more refreshed. He climbed out of bed and tested his leg, pleased to find it felt just fine. Deciding he needed to wash off the remnants of last night's ordeal, he headed for the shower.
As he stepped out, he noticed the extensive bruising covering his shoulder and forearm. The sight reminded him starkly of how close he had come to serious injury—or worse.
"I need to get back into physical training," he mused aloud, rubbing his shoulder gingerly. "I'm getting too slow, and last night almost cost me dearly."
Determined, Harry resolved to improve his fitness and agility. He couldn't afford to be caught off guard again. With a renewed sense of purpose, he dressed quickly and headed downstairs, ready to face the day and prepare for whatever challenges lay ahead.
Harry reflected on his past morning routines, recalling the disciplined regimen of running and calisthenics he had followed diligently before his journey to the past. However, his three months in Azkaban had disrupted those habits, leaving him feeling lazy and out of shape. He knew he needed to address this issue promptly if he intended to continue undertaking risky assignments.
Stepping into the kitchen, Harry took a seat at the table, his stomach grumbling in anticipation. Within moments, a hearty full English breakfast materialized before him, courtesy of Jangles, who seemed eager to please and adept at catering to both him and Bellatrix.
"Good, you're up. Cissa flooed earlier to tell us we're having dinner at her house tonight," Bellatrix announced, entering from the deck with a sense of purpose.
"Damn, she works quick," Harry muttered, impressed by Narcissa's efficiency.
"Yes, there's a good chance she has a stake in the job you did last night," Bellatrix remarked, taking a seat across from him.
Between bites of mushrooms, Harry broached a topic that had been on his mind. "I've been thinking about taking my exams again so I can get a legitimate job," he admitted, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth.
"You should. Then I won't have to worry about you staggering home half-dead again," Bellatrix replied, her tone unusually serious.
Harry nodded, acknowledging the validity of her concern. "I underestimated Greyback last night," he confessed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.
"You won, so it doesn't matter," Bellatrix stated matter-of-factly, shrugging off his admission with characteristic nonchalance.
Despite her reassurance, Harry couldn't shake the nagging sense of unease that lingered in the back of his mind. He knew he needed to be better prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead, both physically and mentally. With a renewed determination, he vowed to resume his training regimen and approach his future endeavors with a greater sense of caution and foresight.
Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, a deep furrow in his brow as he reread the missive from his secretary at the International Confederation of Wizards (ICW). The contents were both astonishing and deeply unsettling: last night, someone had killed Fenrir Greyback, number five on the ICW's most wanted list. Even more remarkable was the fact that the bounty hunter had slain Greyback during a full moon, while he was fully transformed into a werewolf.
The report identified the hunter as Harry James Peverell, a name that gave Albus considerable pause. The Peverell line was believed to be extinct, yet here was someone bearing that ancient and storied name, renowned for producing the very wand now resting on Albus's desk—the Elder Wand. Moreover, this Harry Peverell was apparently working for the Blacks, a development that only deepened Albus's concerns.
Albus's thoughts drifted to young Harry Potter, currently under the care of Lord Sirius Black. Since Sirius had reclaimed guardianship in July, Albus had been trying, unsuccessfully, to reverse that decision. The collapse of the blood wards at Privet Drive was a direct result of Harry no longer considering his aunt's house his home. Albus had intended for the Dursleys' home to serve as a sanctuary for Harry, a place where he could remain hidden from the wizarding world until he began his education at Hogwarts.
Sirius, however, had vehemently rejected this plan, taking Harry away from his aunt's house. Albus found himself powerless to intervene, despite having assumed guardianship of Harry following the tragic deaths of James and Lily Potter. Unfortunately for Albus, James and Lily had named Sirius as Harry's godfather, which trumped any legal claim the headmaster might have had.
Regret gnawed at Albus. Clearing Sirius's name had been the right thing to do, but it had led to unintended consequences. Since his exoneration, Sirius had claimed his lordship and effectively made Harry untouchable as the ward of an ancient and noble house. The Wizengamot, respecting the autonomy of such venerable families, would not interfere.
Albus leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he pondered his next move. The emergence of Harry Peverell, the involvement of the Blacks, and the implications for Harry Potter's future all swirled in his mind. He needed to find a way to navigate these complexities without alienating the Black family further or jeopardizing Harry's safety and destiny. The situation required delicate handling, strategic thinking, and, perhaps, a bit of luck.
As he sat in deep thought, Albus knew that time was of the essence. The wizarding world was shifting in unpredictable ways, and he had to be ready to guide and protect Harry through the turbulent times ahead.
Now, this morning, Albus saw clear proof that the Blacks had gained a formidable new ally. The Peverell name, tied so closely to the Potters, added another layer of complexity. The Potters had, after all, passed down a Peverell heirloom from father to son for centuries, solidifying the deep connection between the two families.
Albus glanced at the latest edition of the Daily Prophet, specifically the social section that announced marriages, births, and deaths within pureblood families. This final piece of information had been troubling him since he first discovered it.
His eyes fell on the announcement again: Harry James Peverell had recently married Bellatrix Black. The implications of this union were staggering. Not only did it suggest a powerful alliance between the Peverell and Black families, but it also raised questions about Harry Peverell's identity and intentions.
The Prophet described the wedding in typical lavish detail, noting the presence of numerous influential figures from the wizarding world. This union solidified the Blacks' power and influence, adding a historical and nearly mythic lineage to their already significant standing. It was also clear that this Harry Peverell was no ordinary wizard—his prowess in defeating Greyback under such extraordinary circumstances spoke volumes about his abilities.
Albus leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. The collapse of the blood wards, Harry Potter's transfer of allegiance to Sirius, and now this formidable alliance presented significant challenges. The Potter-Peverell connection could mean that Harry Peverell had a legitimate claim to certain artifacts and perhaps even magical knowledge that had been thought lost or dormant.
The headmaster knew he had to tread carefully. Sirius, now more powerful and influential than ever, would not take kindly to any interference. Yet, the protection and guidance of Harry Potter remained paramount in Albus's mind. He needed to ensure that Harry was prepared for the future that awaited him, one fraught with dangers and responsibilities far beyond those of an ordinary young wizard.
With a heavy heart, Albus resolved to keep a closer watch on the situation. He would need to find a way to engage with this Harry Peverell, understand his motives, and, if possible, guide him towards a path that would benefit both the young man and the wizarding world at large. The stakes were higher than ever, and Albus knew that the choices he made in the coming days would shape the future in profound ways.
"To Be Wed
The House of Black is delighted to announce the forthcoming marriage of Harry James Peverell to Bellatrix Druella Black. The ceremony will take place on the thirty-first of October, with invitations to be dispatched during the second week of October.
Warm regards, The House of Black"
The article featured a picture of a dark-haired man walking arm in arm with Bellatrix, the ocean providing a serene backdrop. The image seemed almost idyllic, belying the unsettling implications for those aware of Bellatrix's past.
Albus couldn't deny that the prospect of Harry James Peverell marrying one of the most feared Death Eaters from the last war deeply unsettled him. The thought of Bellatrix Black, known for her ruthlessness and unwavering loyalty to Voldemort, being so closely linked to the Peverell name was troubling enough. More concerning, however, was the proximity this marriage would bring between both Bellatrix and Peverell to young Harry Potter during his formative years.
Harry Potter, already under the guardianship of Sirius Black, would now be further influenced by this enigmatic and potentially dangerous new figure. Albus felt a pang of concern. The boy's upbringing was veering further from the path Albus had envisioned—one that included stability, safety, and distance from the darker elements of the wizarding world.
The headmaster resolved to monitor this situation very closely. Harry James Peverell was still an unknown entity, his sudden appearance and actions cloaked in mystery. The previous night's events had revealed his formidable capabilities, as he had taken down one of the most dangerous werewolves during a full moon.
Albus knew he had to stay vigilant. He would need to gather more information about Peverell, understand his motives, and determine his intentions towards both the wizarding world and Harry Potter. This would require delicate maneuvering, careful observation, and perhaps discreet investigation.
With a heavy heart, Albus set the newspaper aside, his mind already working on strategies to ensure Harry's safety and to uncover the true nature of Harry James Peverell. The stakes had never been higher, and every decision from this point forward would shape the future of the wizarding world in profound and lasting ways.
Harry emerged from the fireplace, waiting for Bellatrix to follow suit. He observed her composed demeanor, though he could detect subtle hints of nervousness in her eyes. Leaning closer, he whispered reassurance in her ear before leading her towards the reception desk.
"Relax, Bella," Harry murmured, guiding her gently by the arm as they approached the counter.
Bellatrix offered him a small smile of gratitude as they reached the desk, where a blonde witch in lime green healer robes looked up expectantly.
"Can I help you?" the healer inquired.
"Yes, Bellatrix Black has an appointment with Healer Miles at two o'clock," Harry replied politely, his voice steady.
Glancing at the nametag on the healer's robes, Harry noted the name 'O. Nott' before the witch nodded and jotted something down on her clipboard.
"Go up to the fifth floor, third corridor on the right," Healer Nott instructed before returning her attention to her work.
"Thank you," Harry acknowledged with a nod, before gesturing for Bellatrix to follow him towards the staircase.
"She's one of Cissa's friends," Bellatrix remarked as they ascended the stairs.
"Ah, that explains how Narcissa knows so much about healing," Harry mused thoughtfully.
Bellatrix shook her head. "No, she learned healing out of necessity. After she married Lucius, she had to tend to him after raids and punishments," she explained as they rounded a landing.
"She does good work," Harry remarked, impressed by Narcissa's skills and resourcefulness.
As they continued their ascent, Harry couldn't help but admire the strength and resilience of the Black sisters, each in their own way. It was a reminder of the complexity and depth of the wizarding world, where even those deemed dark or controversial could possess remarkable talents and virtues.
"She was always good at healing spells," Bellatrix remarked casually as they walked past the third-floor landing.
"Why don't they have a lift set up here?" Harry questioned, feeling the strain of the climb.
"Poor building planning," Bellatrix replied with a nonchalant shrug.
"I'll say. The maternity ward is on the fifth floor," Harry remarked, shaking his head incredulously.
"It doesn't matter. I'm having a home birth," Bellatrix stated matter-of-factly as they passed the fourth-floor landing.
"What?" Harry exclaimed, taken aback by the revelation.
"It's traditional for purebloods to have their children at home," Bellatrix explained calmly as they began ascending the final flight of stairs.
"So, are we going to have a midwife?" Harry inquired, curiosity tinged with a hint of concern.
"No, Andromeda and Cissa will help me," Bellatrix revealed as they reached the door to the fifth floor.
"Okay," Harry murmured, trying to process this new information.
"It will be fine, Harry," Bellatrix reassured him as they turned down the third corridor, scanning the names on the doors until they found one with the placard reading 'Healer R. Miles' affixed to it.
Harry knocked briskly on the door, and a feminine voice called out, "Come in."
Harry opened the door and ushered Bellatrix inside. The room was spacious, with pristine white walls and a hospital bed positioned in the center. Seated at a desk off to one side was a young healer, her brown hair pulled back in a neat bun as she diligently made notes on a clipboard.
"Ms. Bellatrix Black?" Healer Miles inquired, looking up from her work.
"Yes, this is my fiancé Harry. He'll be staying for the exam," Bellatrix replied, her voice tinged with nervousness.
"That's perfectly alright, dear. Hop up on the bed, and we can get started," Healer Miles said cheerfully, gesturing towards the bed.
Bellatrix crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, shooting Harry a nervous smile as she settled herself.
Harry observed silently as Healer Miles ran her wand over Bellatrix, conducting a thorough examination. With each spell cast, Harry felt the tension in the room ebb slightly, replaced by a sense of anticipation.
Finally, the healer completed her assessment, and a soft pink-blue glow enveloped Bellatrix's stomach.
"Excellent. Your babies are developing as they should for the first trimester," Healer Miles announced gently.
"How far along am I?" Bellatrix inquired anxiously.
"Ten weeks, according to my scan," the healer replied, her tone reassuring.
Harry's mind reeled at the revelation. "Did you say babies, as in more than one?" he blurted out, his surprise evident.
"Yes, Ms. Black is having twins," Healer Miles confirmed matter-of-factly, her gaze shifting between Harry and Bellatrix.
The news left Harry momentarily speechless, his mind racing with thoughts of the future and the added responsibilities that lay ahead. As he exchanged a glance with Bellatrix, he could see a mixture of excitement and apprehension reflected in her eyes. Together, they would navigate this new chapter of their lives, facing whatever challenges came their way with determination and resolve.
Harry listened with only half his attention as Healer Miles wrote out a prescription for vitamin supplement potions and scheduled another checkup for December tenth. The news of twins had sent his mind reeling—two babies at once! How would they manage with two little ones crying for attention? He felt utterly unprepared, knowing next to nothing about caring for infants, let alone two of them.
In his mind's eye, he pictured two little girls, mirror images of Bellatrix, zooming around their living room on his Firebolt while he chased after them in a futile attempt to maintain order.
A tap on his shoulder jolted him back to reality, and he turned to see Bellatrix looking at him with concern. "We can go now. Are you alright?" she asked, her brow furrowed with worry.
"Oh, yeah," Harry mumbled, still lost in his thoughts, before following her out of the room in a daze.
"What's the matter?" Bellatrix pressed as they walked down the hallway.
"We're having twins," Harry blurted out, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"Yes, according to Healer Miles, we're having a boy and a girl," Bellatrix replied, her face lighting up with joy.
"I suppose I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed," Harry confessed as they descended the stairs together.
"I am too," Bellatrix admitted softly, her hand finding his as they walked.
"We'll handle it together," Harry reassured her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Together," Bellatrix echoed, her smile returning as they continued their journey down the stairs. Despite the uncertainties and challenges that lay ahead, they both knew that as long as they faced them together, they could handle anything that came their way.
They reached the ground floor, the bustling activity of St. Mungo's surrounding them. Harry felt a sense of relief wash over him as they stepped out into the familiar hustle and bustle of the hospital.
"We're in this together, Harry," Bellatrix said, her tone firm and reassuring. "No matter what challenges come our way, we'll face them as a team."
Harry nodded, grateful for her unwavering support. "Together," he repeated, feeling a surge of determination coursing through him.
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