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FIC: Complete (Harry, Gen, slight H/G)
Title: Complete
Author: shiiki
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Harry Potter, Teddy Lupin, Andromeda Tonks, Ginny Weasley, James Potter (Jr), Gen, slight H/G
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 1,164
Summary: His arms, strong enough to arm wrestle with his brothers-in-law and play in a Quidditch scrimmage, seemed to turn to jelly as Ginny passed the tiny bundle to him.
Harry Potter holds his son for the first time.
Notes: Written for this prompt, courtesy of spidergirl30. Unbeta-ed, so feel free to nitpick! As usual, drabbling went into overtime and this ended up a full-length fic. I'm considering if it's good enough for CM.
Life was definitely easier when you were only seven years old, thought Harry, as he watched his godson sucking contentedly on a Sugar Quill in the hard plastic seat outside the delivery ward at St Mungo’s, uninterested in anything in the world other than imitating (very accurately) the faces of Healers and orderlies that passed by.
It was probably a good thing that he didn’t seem very concerned about the fact that their weekend camping trip had been abruptly cut short when Ginny’s water had burst in the middle of the night. Or the fact that Ginny had nearly gone into hysterics because ‘She’s not supposed to come so soon! I have three more weeks!’ Even the panic of trying to figure out how to get to St Mungo’s from the middle of a forest when Apparition while in labour was strongly discouraged (Harry had finally created an unlicensed Portkey - and he wasn’t looking forward to the paperwork he’d have to go through later for that!) wouldn’t faze little Teddy.
And Teddy most certainly wasn’t pacing the corridor outside the delivery ward right now, his heart banging a highly irregular drumbeat against his chest.
What was going on inside? Was their daughter being born at this very instant? Harry almost let out a growl as he passed the door. He wanted to be in the ward, with Ginny - he had an idea that his husbandly duties included him being by her side, holding her hand and being … well, encouraging. But he had to watch Teddy, at least until Andromeda arrived. Harry made an impatient noise in his throat as he glanced at his watch. Where on earth was that orderly he’d sent to Floo Andromeda?
‘Granny!’ said Teddy suddenly.
Andromeda looked tired - Harry remembered with a stab of guilt that he must have dragged her out of bed in the wee hours of the morning on a day she had expected to have a good rest - but she smiled at Teddy.
‘You’re quite active at this time of the night.’
‘I’m going to stay up all night like a grown-up,’ said Teddy cheerfully.
‘I’m sorry, Andromeda -’ Harry began, but she cut him off.
‘Shouldn’t you be somewhere right now?’ She nodded towards the door outside of which he’d been pacing for the better part of the last hour.
He didn’t need a second urging. With a brief hug and apology to Teddy (‘I promise we’ll have a proper camping trip soon.’), he left the pair of them and burst through the doors to the delivery ward.
Hardly anyone paid attention to his abrupt entrance. Ginny was lying on the single bed in the room, her face so pale that her freckles stood out clearly in contrast. She seemed to be drenched in sweat, and she was breathing hard. The midwife she’d been working with in preparation for labour was by her side, coaching her along. At the foot of the bed a Healer had her wand pointed between Ginny’s legs, casting a surgical spell.
Harry sidled up to Ginny’s other side, trying to be as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. She noticed him, however, and moved her hand several inches towards him. Taking his cue, he grasped it in his own. She said nothing, her face now screwed up in painful concentration.
‘Come on, Ginny, push!' encouraged the mid-wife. ‘You’re almost there!’
‘Yeah,’ supplied Harry, hoping the bright tone of his voice would fortify Ginny, ‘push, Ginny, you can do this!’
She might have thrown him a dirty look, but it was quickly lost in the wake of what seemed to be a wave of exceeding pain. Harry almost withdrew his hand in horror - it looked as though she was under the Cruciatus - but with that same spasm, she clenched his fingers in an iron grip.
‘Almost there, sweetheart, you’re doing great!’
With an enormous grunt, Ginny exerted a huge push, bracing her back against the headboard, and then she slumped back, panting.
Harry looked down between his wife’s legs. His first thought was that it all seemed very messy - all that blood and that wrinkly little creature - but then he focused on that little baby, and shock and delight washed over him all at once.
The Healer lifted the baby - his baby - into her arms, severed the umbilical cord with her wand, patted it on the buttocks once, and the air was suddenly filled with an infant’s howls. Harry watched in amazement as she deftly cleaned the child and conjured blankets from thin air. At last, she held out his baby, swaddled in cloths, to Ginny, who opened her trembling arms.
‘She - she’s a boy,’ Ginny whispered. ‘Harry, oh - a boy!’
‘Not - not “Lily” after all,’ Harry said, perching at Ginny’s side, his arm reaching out involuntarily to his son.
‘Congratulations,’ he heard the midwife - or perhaps the Healer - say, but they might have been a millions miles away. All that mattered now was the little circle that he, Ginny, and their son made. Safe in his mother’s arms, their baby’s cries quietened.
‘No, but he’s perfect,’ said Ginny, and Harry couldn’t agree more. His son. His son. The words repeated in his brain, more melodious each time he heard them ring in his ears, filling him with more pride by the second.
‘Here.’ Ginny shifted such that she could lean forward and hand their son to Harry. ‘Take him, go on.’
His arms, strong enough to arm wrestle with his brothers-in-law and play in a Quidditch scrimmage, seemed to turn to jelly as Ginny passed the tiny bundle to him. He had never fumbled a Snitch, so the fear that he might suddenly drop his much larger son was probably irrational, but it flittered across his mind nevertheless.
His son was almost weightless; just a tiny face in a pile of blankets. His eyes, a light hazel not unlike Ginny’s, didn’t seem to be able to focus yet, and Harry imagined he must be full of wonder as he tried to take in the world he had just entered. He was completely bald, and Harry couldn’t help wondering which of his parent’s locks he’d inherit.
‘James,’ Harry murmured, without thinking. He met Ginny’s eyes and she nodded in agreement. They hadn’t discussed names for a son - Ginny had been convinced that her first child should be a girl, and they had agreed on ‘Lily’ as her name.
‘James Sirius,’ Ginny ventured, and Harry knew she understood. He nodded, feeling his throat clench up with emotion. Had his father felt like this when he was born? Had Sirius been there in the hospital, waiting in the corridor to celebrate?
He looked at his son again - James Sirius Potter, a beautiful baby full of potential - and could almost feel the approval of his father and godfather as a curtain of warmth descending around him and his new family.
In the rush of happiness that was still flooding through him, Harry felt complete.
Author: shiiki
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Harry Potter, Teddy Lupin, Andromeda Tonks, Ginny Weasley, James Potter (Jr), Gen, slight H/G
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 1,164
Summary: His arms, strong enough to arm wrestle with his brothers-in-law and play in a Quidditch scrimmage, seemed to turn to jelly as Ginny passed the tiny bundle to him.
Harry Potter holds his son for the first time.
Notes: Written for this prompt, courtesy of spidergirl30. Unbeta-ed, so feel free to nitpick! As usual, drabbling went into overtime and this ended up a full-length fic. I'm considering if it's good enough for CM.
Life was definitely easier when you were only seven years old, thought Harry, as he watched his godson sucking contentedly on a Sugar Quill in the hard plastic seat outside the delivery ward at St Mungo’s, uninterested in anything in the world other than imitating (very accurately) the faces of Healers and orderlies that passed by.
It was probably a good thing that he didn’t seem very concerned about the fact that their weekend camping trip had been abruptly cut short when Ginny’s water had burst in the middle of the night. Or the fact that Ginny had nearly gone into hysterics because ‘She’s not supposed to come so soon! I have three more weeks!’ Even the panic of trying to figure out how to get to St Mungo’s from the middle of a forest when Apparition while in labour was strongly discouraged (Harry had finally created an unlicensed Portkey - and he wasn’t looking forward to the paperwork he’d have to go through later for that!) wouldn’t faze little Teddy.
And Teddy most certainly wasn’t pacing the corridor outside the delivery ward right now, his heart banging a highly irregular drumbeat against his chest.
What was going on inside? Was their daughter being born at this very instant? Harry almost let out a growl as he passed the door. He wanted to be in the ward, with Ginny - he had an idea that his husbandly duties included him being by her side, holding her hand and being … well, encouraging. But he had to watch Teddy, at least until Andromeda arrived. Harry made an impatient noise in his throat as he glanced at his watch. Where on earth was that orderly he’d sent to Floo Andromeda?
‘Granny!’ said Teddy suddenly.
Andromeda looked tired - Harry remembered with a stab of guilt that he must have dragged her out of bed in the wee hours of the morning on a day she had expected to have a good rest - but she smiled at Teddy.
‘You’re quite active at this time of the night.’
‘I’m going to stay up all night like a grown-up,’ said Teddy cheerfully.
‘I’m sorry, Andromeda -’ Harry began, but she cut him off.
‘Shouldn’t you be somewhere right now?’ She nodded towards the door outside of which he’d been pacing for the better part of the last hour.
He didn’t need a second urging. With a brief hug and apology to Teddy (‘I promise we’ll have a proper camping trip soon.’), he left the pair of them and burst through the doors to the delivery ward.
Hardly anyone paid attention to his abrupt entrance. Ginny was lying on the single bed in the room, her face so pale that her freckles stood out clearly in contrast. She seemed to be drenched in sweat, and she was breathing hard. The midwife she’d been working with in preparation for labour was by her side, coaching her along. At the foot of the bed a Healer had her wand pointed between Ginny’s legs, casting a surgical spell.
Harry sidled up to Ginny’s other side, trying to be as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. She noticed him, however, and moved her hand several inches towards him. Taking his cue, he grasped it in his own. She said nothing, her face now screwed up in painful concentration.
‘Come on, Ginny, push!' encouraged the mid-wife. ‘You’re almost there!’
‘Yeah,’ supplied Harry, hoping the bright tone of his voice would fortify Ginny, ‘push, Ginny, you can do this!’
She might have thrown him a dirty look, but it was quickly lost in the wake of what seemed to be a wave of exceeding pain. Harry almost withdrew his hand in horror - it looked as though she was under the Cruciatus - but with that same spasm, she clenched his fingers in an iron grip.
‘Almost there, sweetheart, you’re doing great!’
With an enormous grunt, Ginny exerted a huge push, bracing her back against the headboard, and then she slumped back, panting.
Harry looked down between his wife’s legs. His first thought was that it all seemed very messy - all that blood and that wrinkly little creature - but then he focused on that little baby, and shock and delight washed over him all at once.
The Healer lifted the baby - his baby - into her arms, severed the umbilical cord with her wand, patted it on the buttocks once, and the air was suddenly filled with an infant’s howls. Harry watched in amazement as she deftly cleaned the child and conjured blankets from thin air. At last, she held out his baby, swaddled in cloths, to Ginny, who opened her trembling arms.
‘She - she’s a boy,’ Ginny whispered. ‘Harry, oh - a boy!’
‘Not - not “Lily” after all,’ Harry said, perching at Ginny’s side, his arm reaching out involuntarily to his son.
‘Congratulations,’ he heard the midwife - or perhaps the Healer - say, but they might have been a millions miles away. All that mattered now was the little circle that he, Ginny, and their son made. Safe in his mother’s arms, their baby’s cries quietened.
‘No, but he’s perfect,’ said Ginny, and Harry couldn’t agree more. His son. His son. The words repeated in his brain, more melodious each time he heard them ring in his ears, filling him with more pride by the second.
‘Here.’ Ginny shifted such that she could lean forward and hand their son to Harry. ‘Take him, go on.’
His arms, strong enough to arm wrestle with his brothers-in-law and play in a Quidditch scrimmage, seemed to turn to jelly as Ginny passed the tiny bundle to him. He had never fumbled a Snitch, so the fear that he might suddenly drop his much larger son was probably irrational, but it flittered across his mind nevertheless.
His son was almost weightless; just a tiny face in a pile of blankets. His eyes, a light hazel not unlike Ginny’s, didn’t seem to be able to focus yet, and Harry imagined he must be full of wonder as he tried to take in the world he had just entered. He was completely bald, and Harry couldn’t help wondering which of his parent’s locks he’d inherit.
‘James,’ Harry murmured, without thinking. He met Ginny’s eyes and she nodded in agreement. They hadn’t discussed names for a son - Ginny had been convinced that her first child should be a girl, and they had agreed on ‘Lily’ as her name.
‘James Sirius,’ Ginny ventured, and Harry knew she understood. He nodded, feeling his throat clench up with emotion. Had his father felt like this when he was born? Had Sirius been there in the hospital, waiting in the corridor to celebrate?
He looked at his son again - James Sirius Potter, a beautiful baby full of potential - and could almost feel the approval of his father and godfather as a curtain of warmth descending around him and his new family.
In the rush of happiness that was still flooding through him, Harry felt complete.