Hunter and Prey

Ginny stayed until Mrs Granger arrived. Her mother was quite brittle with her and the witch quickly bade her farewells. Hermione saw her to the door to apologise but Ginny just nodded shrewdly then rolled off to discretely use a portkey. She didn’t want to risk splinching so far along and her former sister-in-law had disconnected her house from the Floo network to keep Weasleys from visiting unannounced.

“She had some nerve coming here, flaunting her perfect baby.” Louise had not slept well even after Martin had poured her a brandy to calm her. Her hands clenched around the kettle as she made herself a cup of tea. She spilled hot water over the counter then crossly wiped it up.

“Mum.” Hermione began, uncertain what to say. Her mother wrung out the sponge in the sink then closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself.

“I know she is your friend, darling. I am sure she meant well.” Shortly after the final debacle, she and Molly Weasley had exchanged words on the topic of grandchildren. Louise had accused her of being greedy considering how many children and grandchildren the witch already had. She regretted that now she understood. Even though... “Go get dressed. We need to leave soon or we’ll be late.”

“You don’t have to come with me.” Hermione reached out to her mother. Louise held her hand and patted it. She had not planned to discuss this. Indeed, she had planned not to discuss it but when she looked at her daughter she saw her for the first time as a grown woman. Even at her wedding, Mrs Granger had thought her little girl was playing dress-up. Ron’s immaturity had not helped. Now, though, Hermione was an adult. Louise felt obscurely she should mourn.

“Yes, I do.” She squeezed her hand. “Darling, I think you are doing the right thing. Honestly I do.” Martin had been quite firm in his resolve and she wished she could be so certain. “But I cannot help think about my grandchildren. Its silly and I know I shouldn’t say anything and its not the right time for this and a thousand other things but I wish...” Louise took a shaky breath to still her babbling. “I wish it was the right time and that things were different.”

“Oh mum.” Hermione hugged her, tears coming quickly because it took bloody nothing to set her off and her mother looked so troubled. There had to be something intelligent to say, something that would sort everything out. She had no idea what it was and very much doubted she would find it in a book. It was Crookshanks who broke the moment, rubbing up against Louise’s legs insistently. He recognised her as someone who could be extorted for treats and he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“You big fibber!” Mrs Granger scolded the cat as he meowed loudly then made use of a handkerchief. It was a good thing she rarely wore mascara otherwise she would have panda eyes. Hermione ducked upstairs to change while her mother remonstrated with the half-kneazle.

Crookshanks had to be bribed with a lamb chop to allow them to get into Louise’s Volvo. He took his job as Hermione’s familiar very seriously, except in the presence of food. They drove sedately into London and negotiated traffic, eventually finding a parking space. By the time they got to the specialist’s office, Hermione had memorised exactly what she was going to say. It had taken a lot of editing.

Dr Kapur was a middle aged Punjabi woman who listened quietly, heard a great deal more and examined her patient with gentle hands. Hermione studied the diplomas on the wall while blood was drawn and stirrup related activity happened. Then they went into the next room for an ultrasound. She gasped at the cold gel and fought an urge to pee whenever the doctor pressed down firmly. The gynaecologist turned the monitor around so she could watch.

There wasn’t much to see. The amniotic sacs looked like blobs, the embryos tiny. But she could hear their heartbeats and felt a surge of rage that she should be experiencing this moment under these circumstances. Her mother held her hand tightly as Dr Kapur scanned then studied the images. They returned to the consulting room for the verdict.

“The pregnancy is entering the third month, there are three embryos all of which are currently viable.” The doctor’s lilting accent did not allay Hermione’s concerns. Dr Kapur gave the bad news. “You asked about a selective reduction and I am afraid I cannot recommend it. The placentas are deeply embedded. Any attempt at surgical removal at this time is likely to result in significant, I should say, life threatening haemorrhage.”

“And the likelihood of miscarriage?” Hermione had also prepped a list of questions. She started at the top. It was quite a long list. Dr Kapur looked slightly uncomfortable for a moment until her bedside manner asserted itself.

“There may be developmental complications. The embryos are presented abnormally. I have not see a case previously similar to this. It is possible this is a partial molar pregnancy though three such gestating simultaneously is extremely unusual.” She intensely disliked moments such as this when all she could do was place her patient in the lap of the gods. “If it is as I suspect, your body will shortly begin to shut down blood supply to the placentas. Most molar pregnancies end before the twelfth week. It is only because of the multiple embryos that you noticed at all so soon.”

“So that’s it? I just wait?” Was this seriously her best option? Hermione could understand Madam Pomfrey suggesting she not interfere but a doctor counselling the same laissez-faire approach seemed totally unreasonable. She didn’t want to sit around and wait to hopefully not bleed to death.

“I suggest making another appointment in a month’s time. If the situation has not improved or corrected itself by then we will be in better stead to look at other options.” Dr Kapur soothed. “For the time being, patience is the best medicine.