Holly Hopewell, a veteran Labor and Delivery mediwitch, sat herself at the unit's healers' station and prayed for peace. Her shift tonight fell on the second full moon of the month. Last time, it brought her a newly-turned werewolf in labor with twins. She took a pull from her water bottle as she remembered the set of growling babies. So cute, even the feralness didn't detract much. Staring at the allegedly motivational posters on the walls, she wondered if even one of the creators had ever set foot in a hospital.
"It's this way! C'mon, Mione, keep up."
"Shut up, you numpty. She's like two years pregnant. The woman has limits!"
"Ya know, Mione, you look like a duck. You're kinda waddling."
"Leave my wife alone, Weasel, or we'll see how much you waddle with a bludger stuck up your arse"
Hopewell heard two long-suffering sighs, and looked up to see The Golden Trio awkwardly making their way down the hall with Draco Malfoy in tow. Ron Weasley was in the lead, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a ginger terrier on some kind of Muggle drug. She searched her memory…Cranberry? Moth? Crackle? She shook her head and returned her attention to the spectacle before her. Hermione Granger-Malfoy had her hands wrapped around her rounded abdomen as she gasped for air, glaring daggers at the ginger. None other than Harry Potter was holding her steady, encouraging her to, "Breathe. In for four, and out for four. You're doing great. "
"Harry?"
"Yeah, Mione," was that a mop cloth in his hand?
"I will hunt you down and kill you as soon as I'm mobile if you don't stop that."
"But the book says-"
"I. DON'T. CARE. There's a whole team of people trained to do this." She looked directly at Hopewell with an eyebrow raised.
Oh. Oh yeah. Showtime. She left her seat, coming to the young mother's aid, gently hip-checking The Saviour of the Wizarding World.
"Hello, Mrs Granger- Malfoy. Welcome to St Mungo's Magical Labor & Delivery. Right this way, and we'll get you settled and admitted."
Hermione turned on Ron, Harry and Draco. "There's no room for any of you. Go wait in the lobby."
"But Granger, I'm your husband! The rooms are huge-"
"At present, you're the great blond pillock who talked me into this mess. Lobby, now!"
Chastened, the three men turned and headed for the waiting room.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"This way, my dove." The poshly accented silken tone could belong to only one man.
"Darling, if you remember, I delivered Draco here 21 years ago," the refined rejoinder came with a clear undercurrent: I know exactly where I am, foolish man. I remember the way better than you.
Draco's parents entered the lobby, not a hair out of place, and took in the scene before them: Young Weasley, snoring in a corner, crumbs scattered on his shirt, and sandwich wrappers haphazardly decorating his large feet. Two seats down, Harry was frowning at a dog eared, Wizarding copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecto-ing." Narcissa could hear him counting to 10 under his breath as he read. And her Dragon. He gesticulated wildly as he paced the room. "What's going on in there? How could she kick me out? I'm quite certain the baby requires my presence. Mark my words, my father-"
"Is here, and thus has heard about it." Lucius rolled his eyes as he went to his heir. "Calm down, Draco. You're making a scene. You will approach this with the dignity befitting a Malfoy."
Narcissa smirked to herself, deciding not to tell the room how Lucius had behaved when it was his turn.
For now, anyway.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"What's wrong with it? It's just a stuffie."
"It's a stuffed snake, you moron. Maybe just a touch off putting?"
"How so? The kid is gonna be a Slytherin, guaranteed."
"No guarantees on this one, Theo. Remember, its mother is GRANGER. It could be anything."
"Just as long as it's not a house elf. Or a Hufflepuff."
"Either would be equally honorable and loyal," the response floated lightly in the stale waiting room air.
"Oh, gods, Blaise. We just went from one bug-eyed weird creature to another."
"Shut up, Nott." Blaise turned to the new arrival with a cryptic smile. "Lovegood. How interesting to see you," Blaise made a slight bow in the her direction.
Hullo, Blaise. Hullo, Theo. You have the wrong animal, I'm afraid."
"Wrong how, exactly?"
Luna smiled and hummed to herself. "You'll see. Hello, Harry. Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. So nice to see you under non-captive circumstances."
Narcissa paled, and Lucius slid down in his seat, muttering a greeting.
"Any update on how Hermione is doing?"
Draco looked up sullenly from his exile. "They said she's laboring with a terrifying focus."
"Oh, good! As long as she's terrifying, we know that she's all right."
Draco turned back to the wall, muttering about daft witches.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Stilettos clicked with a purpose down the hall to a counterpoint of feminine cursing about the location of the unit, and concerns about the proper care of Blahniks.
"Where's my godchild?"
"YOUR god child? No one's put you in charge of anything yet, Parkinson!"
"Tosh. Someone will have to teach that child about style. You *have* seen its mother."
"Parkinson, I'm literally right. Here."
"Yes, Draco. And my point stands. "
Snerk*
"Father!"