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”Hi. I have found what we shall name our baby, Harry, but I won’t tell you until you wake up.” I walk in through the door and over to the bed. I look down at your peaceful face and smile. “I know you can hear me… please wake up.” I whisper in your ear. My left hand rests on my very pregnant stomach; the other caresses your cheek. Your response is the same as it has been since you defeated Voldemort two months ago. Not a twitch, nothing.
I sit down in the rocking chair I bought a month ago and sigh.

“I wish you would wake up, Harry.” I sit there watching you for a couple of hours before standing to walk around the room, coming to a stop in front of the window faced out towards the garden. “The sun is shining today, and the sky is blue. Maybe I shall pick some flowers and place them on your nightstand?” I turn back towards you, but as always there has been no change. I sigh again. It seems I have been doing that a lot lately. I crawl into bed next to you and lay my head down on your chest, listening to your steady heart beats.

"Our baby boy is active today. I think he is practicing to be a beater, or what did Hermione call it… a football player? He must have inherited both our Quidditch-genes. ” I laugh a little, before I settle again. I watch over you as the minutes tick away.

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Flashback
When I first got the message that the war was finally over and that the light side had won, all I could think of was you. Were you alright? When would I get to see you, hug you, kiss you? Then I thought of my baby, our baby… you would get to come home and share the last days of my pregnancy with me, and then you would get to hold our baby boy in your arms! I had laughed in joy and hugged the officer coming to tell me the news, but then he had looked down and said that there was more and I automatically thought the worst. That you were dead and would not come back to me… to us.

“What is it?!” I had cried. “Harry is not dead, is he?!” I had hugged my arms tightly around me to give myself some measure of comfort, if you really were dead. In my despair I nearly did not notice as the officer tried to tell me the rest of his news. “Major Potter fought Voldemort and managed to kill him using a big ball of power and a bullet, but in the process… Sir?” Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, he is dead… “Sir?! Major Potter managed to avoid great injuries in the battle, but was hit by the magical backlash when Voldemorts power exploded outward. He was knocked out and is in a magical coma trying to replenish his magic.” He hurried to explain. Thank you… thank you he is alive! I started to cry as relief filled my heart. The poor officer had looked like he didn’t know what to do with a heavily pregnant man who was to top it all off, crying. “It’s alright, I’m just so relieved!” I managed to press forward before another sob caught me and I hugged him. I was so happy…
Then I got you home, still in the coma, and I wished you would wake up so that I could see your eyes. Did you know about our baby? Would you wake up before the birth?

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I am outside in the gardens picking some of the flowers who are left. It is August, nearly September and my baby boy will soon be in my arms. I walk slowly and carefully up the stairs, taking my time. I carry a vase and the flowers I have arranged into a bouquet for you. They smell good, of early morning dew and like it is still summer. I think of the letters who arrived for you the day before. My letters, unopened. All five of them. You didn’t even know I was pregnant before you went into the last battle… I wonder if you will remember me telling you about the baby when you wake up. I wonder if you remember me screaming about you not sending me any acknowledgement of having received my letters. If you will remember all the times I’ve cried against your chest. I don’t even know if you will remember having felt your son kick inside my stomach?

I place the vase on your night stand and open the window slightly. I look at your sleeping face. How can you be so calm? I know I don’t have much time left of my pregnancy, and I really want you to be there when our son is born. I brush the hair away from your forehead; the scar you once bore from Voldemort is gone. I bend down to kiss you. “I love you, Harry.” I whisper to you before standing and walking out. I have to get ready. My baby boy is coming tonight.