This is a fanfiction short story which i wrote recently.. I decided to focus more on the emotional aspect of Harry's life here rather than the magical aspect of it. Not very imaginative, but its a start.
"Harry!"
"Harry!"
Harry Potter didn't even stir. He had
not gotten any sleep the past few days, thanks to the false alarms and James
crying, and he was well and truly out.
"HARRY!" There was a bang,
and Harry woke up with a start to find himself on the floor. Disentangling
himself from his blankets, he saw his wife Ginny standing over him, holding her
protruding belly and her wand.
The look on her face said it all.
"Its time.” she said.
Harry had been planning this moment for
a while now, but he felt unprepared. He had been a nervous wreck when James was
born; he felt no different now.
He got up in a flash. Without a word,
he raised his wand, and two silvery stags shot from it, one headed two blocks
away, the other in the direction of The Burrow.
The bang had woken up one year old
James, who was screaming from his cot in the corner. Harry went over and
scooped him in his arms, just to keep himself occupied; he was closed to hyperventilating.
"Are you ok?"He asked Ginny,
who was sweating profusely, although the night was cold.
"Do I look ok?"She asked fiercely,
now flopping herself onto the bed
Before Harry could reply, there were
two loud almost simultaneous cracks downstairs.
Casting a worried look at his wife, he hurried downstairs with James in his
arms. Waiting for him in the sitting room were four people: His best friend and
brother-in-law, Ron Weasley and his wife Hermione, and his in-laws, Molly and
Arthur Weasley.
"How is she?” asked Mrs.Weasley, removing
her coat and folding up her sleeves in a rush. Not bothering for an answer she
thrust the coat into her husband’s hands and rushed upstairs. They could hear
Ginny screaming, as the blob of life within her struggled to get out.
"I'd better go help.” said
Hermione, who was holding her 2-month old daughter, Rose. Harry noticed that
her size had come back to normal, but he also saw dark circles around her eyes.
Apparently, Rose Weasley was a tough customer. She handed Rose to Ron,
and she too, rushed upstairs.
Arthur, who was now almost bald,
removed his horn rimmed glasses and polished them on his robes. "I think
this will take a while,” he said." Ginny's own birth took 24 hours."
Harry and Ron laughed. Harry was
restless. His wife was screaming her lungs out upstairs, and he couldn't go to
her. He knew Molly had it under control, but that didn't stop the tiny thread
of fear creeping up his spine. He got up and walked around, James asleep on his
shoulder. "Don't worry mate,” Ron patted him on the back. “Everything will
be fine".
It was 3 am. It was a dark autumn morning,
and all was quiet in the Potter house. Rose was asleep on her grandfather’s
lap, and Harry and Ron were talking, cradling Firewhiskey to keep themselves
awake. Harry was still anxious. Ron was talking about the time he found a
humongous gnome in his garden, and it had chased Crookshanks( who is really getting
to be an old cat) into a hole and it took them two hours to get him out. Harry
wasn't even listening. He was distracted by Ginny's screaming and the pitter-
patter of raindrops on the roof.
"Harry are you
listening?"
There was a whimper. James had woken up
again. He rubbed his brown eyes, and looked up at his father, face twisted into
a frown. He was going to cry. Ron acted quickly. He scooped up James and sat
down, making puffs of coloured smoke erupt from his wand for the baby's
amusement. Harry was forcibly reminded of his own father, the baby's namesake,
doing the same thing for him, before he was killed.
Three hours of screaming later, just as the first rays of the sun were peeping over the horizon,and when Harry was at the brink of a nervous breakdown, Hermione appeared. Her
hair was messier than useful, and she was sweating. Harry stood up, desperate for
news.
"What’s taking so long?"
Hermione looked worried. “Harry, the
baby is breached"
"Huh?" said Ron and Harry
together. Hermione looked so exasperated at their ignorance, it reminded Harry
of their childhood.
"The baby is supposed to come out
head first, but it isn’t. It could suffocate."
Harry felt his heart drop into his
stomach. He opened his mouth, but couldn't speak.
"Its ok,"said Hermione
quickly, "It might just take a while longer. We are trying to get it out
as soon as possible." With that, she accepted a glass of water from Ron,
turned her heel, and went upstairs again. Harry sat down shakily.
The screaming was louder now. Just as
it reached the pinnacle in terms of decibels, a new sound was heard, the most
beautiful sound that Harry had ever heard. The sound of a child crying.
"Harry, do you want to meet your
son?"
Hermione was back, grinning broadly, a
tiny bundle of blankets in her arms. She moved closer so that Harry could see.
Lying there, in the midst of the mass of blankets, was a small face and a head
full of jet black hair. Even in his tired state, Harry couldn't help but smile,
because the hair stuck up from the back just as his did.
"How's Ginny?"
"She’s fine, she did great, Molly
is attending to her now.” said Hermione as she eased the bundle into his
arms.
The baby was only as long as his
forearm. Harry drew him close, tracing the baby’s face with his finger, from
every strand of hair, to each perfect, tiny fingernail. The baby's pink skin
glowed even in the low light, and his soft rhythmic breathing was like music to
Harry's ears. A tear fell from Harry's eye and dropped gently onto the baby's
button nose. He stirred, and opened his eyes.
Harry gasped. He couldn't help it.
Staring back at him with curiosity,
were big, almond shaped green eyes. His eyes. Lily's eyes.
His son had his grandmothers eyes,
those eyes which drew even Severus Snape into their midst.
"He's perfect” breathed Harry
tears flowing down his cheeks. "You are perfect, son” he said, addressing
the baby.
“Perfect little Albus Severus
Potter.”
