One More Time

*



Hermione stood at the doorway of the small room off the master bedroom, gazing in. On the outside wall, under the window piled with snow, was a beautiful mahogany crib with an enchanted mobile hung over it. The figures of Hogwarts castle and snow-covered trees danced around it. When spring came, the trees would become light and green.



The room had been painted a soft yellow with blue trim around the singular window. Hermione and Blaise had spent the past few weeks decorating and finishing the preparations for the baby.



Hermione had moved her things into the master bedroom with Blaise and felt quite content there. They had bought quite a few things and Hermione hadn’t been sure the small room would hold them. It had, though. Hermione had a suspicion that Blaise had performed a Space-Enhancing Charm on the whole thing.



In the corner was a white cabinet and changing table. Buying everything had made Hermione realize just how much work a baby could be. She was hoping that whatever she didn’t learn from books, and she had tried to learn it all, she would have help from Blaise and her friends.



All of her acquaintances knew now and they had spent the weeks after the article receiving all sorts of mail. Some had been congratulatory, and others not so much. Hermione had ignored all the unpleasant mail and simply tossed it in the fire.



She had received a letter from the office congratulating her and telling her that she was entitled to several months off after the baby was born. Hermione felt grateful, but knew that she would return to work not too long after. She had no desire to become a stay-at-home mum.



Blaise was still getting the cold shoulder from Isabella, but he didn’t seem too upset. In fact, Hermione thought he was rather happy to be left alone without her “advice” constantly in his ear.



Their relationship seemed to be improving by the day, even with Hermione’s mood swings. She was growing tired of being pregnant. Her back hurt and it was becoming increasingly difficult to stand up from chairs.



Standing in the doorway to the room, she didn’t hear Blaise come up behind her. Without a word, he slid an arm over her shoulder. She glanced at him and smiled.



“It’s December,” she said. “Only a month, now.”



“Are you ready?” Blaise asked.



She looked down at her stomach, thinking. “I guess it doesn’t matter. We’re here now.”



Blaise shrugged. “I think we are.”



“Really?” Hermione asked skeptically. “We’ve done everything to prepare? We’re ready for a crying baby? Getting up in the middle of the night? Not sleeping for days on end? Worrying about a kid for the rest of our lives?”



Blaise rolled his eyes. “Okay, so we’re not completely prepared, but I think we’ll do alright. We’ve made it this far.”



“I suppose that’s true,” Hermione agreed. She turned from the room and wandered back into the bedroom.



She was walking towards the bed when it happened. A crimping pain ran through her stomach and she stopped walking, her hand flying to her stomach.



Blaise, who’s just turned, saw this and asked, “Are you okay?”



“I think so,” Hermione said, then bent over again as the same feeling swept over her. “Ouch!”



“What’s wrong?” Blaise asked quickly, moving over to her.



Hermione was staring at the floor, looking shocked. Looking up at Blaise, her face frightened. “My water just broke,” she whispered.



Blaise just stared at her, unable to speak it seemed. Hermione, on the other hand, had more than enough to say for both of them.



“Blaise!” she said. “I-I’m not ready! It’s only December! It’s too early! What do we do?”



When Blaise didn’t respond, she grabbed his arm. Only then, did he jump back. “Oh shit,” he cursed. “It’s not January!”



“I know!” Hermione cried. She looked around frantically. She wasn’t ready for the baby to come now. She hadn’t packed anything.



Blaise had regained his head, it seemed. He grabbed Hermione’s arm as she had another contraction.



“We’re going to St. Mungo’s,” he said, leading her into the sitting room.



“But, no!” Hermione said. “It’s only December!”



“I know,” he said calmly, grabbing her coat and taking her outside. From there, he summoned a broom and sat her on it. They had decided it was the fastest way to get there since she couldn’t Apparate.



Hermione didn’t look pleased. “Blaise, about this broom thing, I don’t know if it’s the sa—ouch!” She came up breathing harder than before and Blaise swung on the broom in front of her.



“We’re going this way and that’s that.” With a whoosh, they took off into the sky, the cold air whipping their faces.



Hermione was not happy on the back of the broom, but knew it was her only choice unless she decided to have the baby at home, and she simply refused that. She cast a Warming Charm on herself halfway through the ride to keep the cold wind from whipping at her skin.



Soon, they were touching down in a deserted alleyway in London. Blaise helped Hermione off the broom and shrunk it, placing it in his pocket. Carefully, they made their way to the entrance of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.



“Blaise,” Hermione said as they passed through the cool glass to the entrance inside. “I’m not ready. I don’t want to have this baby. I can’t!”



“It’ll be fine,” he said soothingly, though inside his heart was doing the conga around his ribcage. He sat her in a chair and went to the nurse.



“We sent an owl ahead, Hermione, she’s going into labor,” he told the woman at the station.



“Through that door,” the woman said in a bored voice, “and fill this out.” She handed him a bunch of papers. Miffed, Blaise returned to Hermione and took her through the door the woman had indicated.



Once inside, Hermione was taken to a private room. As she was being led away, she seized Blaise’s arm. “Don’t you dare leave me,” she said seriously. “We have to owl Harry, and Ron, and my parents! Blaise, there’s so much to do! I’m not ready!”



Blaise followed along, riffling through the papers. “We’re fine,” he said, trying to believe it. He couldn’t believe it was happening so early. The Healer had said it wouldn’t be for another three weeks.



Hermione was taken into a room and set on a bed. Blaise could hear her contractions getting worse and as they did so, so did her voicings.



After one particularly long contraction, she wasn’t feeling very good. “Blaise,” she said through labored breaths. “Why did you have to sleep with me? Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone? Oh!” She leaned forward and closed her eyes as another wave of pain came over her. Panting, she leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “Why?” she whined. “I don’t want a Muggle birth,” she said. “I want potions, lots and lots of potions. Blaise, get me potions.”



Blaise just nodded his head and continued filling out the forms. He’d already sent a message to Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s parents. Harry had said he would come as soon as he could. Blaise imagined Hermione’s parents were on their way as well.



“Ooooh,” Hermione moaned as another pang hit her. She came back panting, violently wishing she had not gotten pregnant in the first place.



“Feeling okay?” Blaise asked lightly.



“No,” Hermione huffed, pushing herself up on the bed. “I am not feeling alright. Where is Harry? Where is my mother? Did you tell them?”



“Yes, I told them,” Blaise said. He was determined to remain calm despite Hermione’s increasing panic as the time grew nearer.



“Ow!” Hermione gasped, clutching her stomach.



“Breath, Hermione,” Blaise said, standing up and going to her side. He did a few breaths with her and she calmed down, but she was still breathing harder than normal.



“I want it done!” she said. “Where is the Healer? Can’t they do magic and get it out?”



“Of all the books you read, you didn’t see that it isn’t possible?” Blaise asked, raising his eyebrows. He would have expected Hermione to know this.



“Of course I did,” she snapped. She wasn’t feeling much up to making conversation. “But I still don’t see why not.”



Blaise decided that it was better to remain silent at this point and luckily, Harry showed up minutes later.



He burst into the room, running to Hermione’s bedside. “Hermione! How are you feeling?”



“Oh, fine,” she said. “As good as I can be with a baby trying to get out of my body!”



Harry paused and turned to Blaise. “A bit emotional, is she?”



Blaise merely nodded while Hermione became indignant.



“You would be emotional too if you were forced to give birth. It’s no picnic over here, and what took you so long?!”



Harry sent another nervous glance at Blaise. Dealing with an emotional Hermione had never been his strong suit.



“I was at work,” he said. “There was an escape at Azkaban and the man set a fire down the street and—“



“I didn’t ask for a novel,” Hermione interrupted, sounding annoyed.



Harry just sighed and didn’t say anymore. He ran to Hermione’s side at a contraction, Blaise on her other, coaching her through it.



After several, Harry would be hard-pressed to say that Blaise didn’t care about her. He was attentive and calm and listened to her inordinate demands.



Hermione’s parents arrived soon after Harry. Her mother ran into the room, hugging Hermione to her.



“Hermione, dear, how are you doing? Just remember to breathe and everything will be fine.”



Hermione’s father hung back by the door, but his eyes were on Blaise. Blaise seemed to know he was being watched and looked up to find John Granger watching him closely. Deciding it would be best to get the unpleasantness with over, he walked up to him and held out his hand.



“Mr. Granger,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. I assure you your daughter is in good hands.”



“Do you love her?” Mr. Granger asked. Jane Granger’s eyes turned to Blaise as her husband asked this question. Even Harry looked up, as though wanting to hear the answer again.



“Yes,” Blaise said, “sir,” he added, feeling formality was best in this situation.



Hermione drew the focus from Blaise with another cry of pain as a contraction went through her body. Her mother immediately rounded on her, whispering encouraging, calming words. Blaise withdrew from Hermione’s father and went back to his position beside Hermione.



Half an hour later, the contractions were coming closer together and with each one, Hermione became less and less pleased.



“Blaise,” she growled after a particularly long one, “Why did you do this to me?”



“Just relax,” he said. “Have some ice chips.”



“I don’t want any ice chips!” Hermione said angrily, pushing them away. “I want to go home.”



“You can’t go home,” he said calmly. “You have to have the baby.”



“I don’t want to!” she exclaimed, her voice wavering. “I just want to go home. Blaise, please, I can’t do this.”



“You can,” he said, grabbing her hand. The Grangers had left to find some tea and Harry was sending messages to the Weasley family. Ron still had not arrived. “Hermione, I know this is hard, but of all the things you’ve ever done, this is the most amazing. You can do anything.”



“Do you have to be so sappy?” Hermione asked, starting to cry.



Blaise just smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s part of my job as the supportive boyfriend.”



Just then, the Healer bustled in. A stout woman with a cheery smile, she greeted them happily.



Hermione barely had time to say hello before another contraction hit. “Is this ever going to end?” she panted.



“Oh, of course, dearie,” the woman smiled. She took out her wand and waved it over Hermione. “Not too long now.”



“God,” Hermione moaned, letting her head fall back against the pillow. “Ouch!” she exclaimed as another contraction came. “Blaise,” she panted. “I hate you. I hate you for doing this to me!”



“Don’t worry, dear,” the Healer said to Blaise. “They all say that. She’ll be happy once it’s all over.” She smiled nicely at Blaise, who didn’t look too reassured.



“Oh sure I will,” Hermione said waspishly as the woman flitted around checking things. “It’ll be all rainbows and butterflies when this is all over.”



Blaise knew better than to reply. Instead, he merely shrugged and waited.



“Well, sweet pea,” the Healer said, “looks like it’s about time to take you into the delivery room.”



“What?!” Hermione asked. “But I’m not ready! Blaise, tell her I’m not ready!”



“Hermione,” he said, giving her a tired look. “You have to.”



“I can—oooh,” she moaned as she bent forward through another contraction. When it was over, she seemed to have changed her mind. “I was wrong,” she said. “Get it out, get it out.” She was gripping the edge of her bed so tightly her knuckles turned white.



The Healer didn’t seem all that concerned with time, in Hermione’s opinion. She magicked her onto a stretcher and wheeled her down to another room that was full of ticking and magically controlled monitors.



Hermione barely had time to think as he contractions came now more painfully and longer than before.



“Blaise,” she cried, “I don’t hate you, I just—ahhh!” She was never having another child again, ever, she decided, ever.



Blaise grabbed her hand, whispering encouraging words in her ear. She didn’t appear to hear him as she panted and moaned.



“Make it stop!” she moaned.



The Healer moved around her, making movements with her wand and muttering spells under her breath. Blaise wondered just how long it was going to take.



“How much longer?” he asked.



“Oh, as long as it takes,” the Healer said. Hermione groaned and Blaise sighed, thinking that maybe he should go find some tea.



**



“Say hello,” the Healer said, “to your new son.” She handed Hermione a perfect baby wrapped in a clean blue towel.



Staring down at the baby, that made an indistinguishable noise, Hermione began to cry for what felt like the hundredth time that night. This time, though, it was in happiness as she looked down at her and Blaise’s son.



Blaise moved over to look at the baby and smiled. It seemed like a long time ago Hermione had been yelling at him in her flat that this was his fault. Now, though, he would gladly take responsibility for what had come out of it.



“So what’s the little fellow’s name?” the Healer asked as she bustled around cleaning up things.



“Kaiser,” Hermione said softly. “Kaiser Zabini-Granger.”



The Healer just smiled and left the room for a moment. Blaise ran a finger over the child’s porcelain skin and smiled happily.



“Now,” he said. “Aren’t you glad I came back?”



Hermione laughed and Blaise leaned down and kissed her. Then he pulled his chair closer to her bed and settled in to watch Kaiser in Hermione’s arms.



Suddenly, a crash sounded outside their door and seconds later the door flew open.



“Hermione!” Ron burst into the room. “Did I miss it? I tried to come sooner, but I got stuck at work and then mum wanted to know what was going on!”



“It’s okay, Ron,” Hermione said. “It’s over, but you didn’t miss anything. Come say hello to Kaiser.”



Ron came over carefully, as though fearing any sound would scare the baby. “Whoa,” he breathed as he peered over the blanket at Kaiser.



The baby was small and had just a tiny bit of dark hair on the top of his head. His eyes were blue, like all newborns, and he stared up at Ron with wide eyes.



“That’s amazing,” Ron said.



Hermione smiled and looked at Blaise. “Yeah, it is.”





*



A/N: There\'s one more chapter left, just so\'s you know :]