Childbirth
The Nanny Who Lived
Chapter I: Childbirth
…
It was a very special day – The day little Scorpius was born.
Hermione thought that giving birth in the Wizarding World was going to be different than in the Muggle World. Innocent her, she thought she would be given a potion, a birth-giving spell would be cast on her very pregnant belly, and her baby boy would be born. Just like that.
No contractions, no pain, no pushing.
Pffft, eaaasy.
Right? Right?
Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho…!
Wrong.
It was just like in the Muggle movies she had seen in her teenage years. There was moaning, screaming and nurses rushing everywhere. And yes, just like in those movies, the midwife taking care of a healthy birth both encouraged and annoyed the living shit out of her.
“Come on, Hermione, you’re doing so well! Push! Push!”
“HAS A DEMENTOR SUCKED YOUR EYES OUT, LADY!? I AM PUSHING! IF I PUSH ANY HARDER I WILL PUSH A SHIT OUT OF MY ARSE, NOT A FUCKING BABY!”
It wasn’t Hermione talking.
Oh, nonononononono!
It was childbirth.
Her cheeks were scarlet red from the exhaustion, her forehead was completely covered in sweat, and her entire body trembled whenever she wasn’t pushing. Poor woman was in shambles, she’d been pushing what felt like a watermelon out of her privates for hours, and she was done for.
But whenever she was granted a break, no matter how short it was, she came back to her senses and apologised profusely to that poor mediwitch.
“Oh Godric, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mea—“
But as soon as another contraction hit her… Well.
“—SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSON OF A BITCH!”
“I can see the head!”
“Oh, for the love of FUCK! YOU’VE BEEN SAYING THAT FOR OVER AN HOUR! AM I BIRTHING A BALL OF HAIR OR WHAT!?”
That poor nurse was just doing her job. Obviously, being that she had helped other women through childbirth, she was used to being yelled at, insulted, and called all sorts of nasty names. She understood that having the vagina dilate so much was indescribably painful, and cursing out loud was one of the most common ways to deal with the pain. She understood, really. She wholeheartedly did. And at some point in her career, the mediwitch had learned to smile it off.
But to cope with the insults, and just for the sake of her own mental well-being, she also learned to give all of these women a mental middle finger. Just for… dealing with the stress – Or malicious fun, who the fuck cared. It was all in her head, anyway.
“Push! Come on, just give me one more push!”
“I SAID I’M PUSHING! SWEET AND HOLY MOTHERFUCKING MERLIN, I’M PUSHING, YOU DAFT HIPOGRIFF!”
And Draco… Well.
Draco knew well enough when to keep his mouth shut. Sure, he’d say uplifting words every now and then, things like “You can do it!” or “Almost there!”, while wiping the sweat off Hermione’s forehead. But he wasn’t an idiot, so he stuck to saying light-hearted phrases only when strictly necessary, just to stop his dear wife from breaking his hand – Safety first, fuckery later.
But he needed to be supportive for Hermione. And supportive as he was, Draco held Hermione’s hand and caressed her thumb while the mediwitch tried to convince her to push once more.
“Okay, we’re going for one final push, you’re almost there. Let’s go, give me one big breath! Aaaand a ten second push!”
Draco tried to help as well, “Come on, you can do this!”
Hermione glared at him. If looks could kill, Draco would’ve died a thousand deaths.
“I CAN DO THIS – BUT YOU CAN’T DO ME AGAIN.”
“That’s…” Honestly, what even was the appropriate comeback to that? “…That’s the spirit?”
It was all chaotic enough, but suddenly, Lucius and Narcissa came into the room with a special little something. No, really. It was special. Like, really special. The kind of special where Draco just went, yeah, okay. Just roll with it.
“I heard Muggles enjoy this dish. It may help you with your recovery, it has carbohydrates. I heard they have good energy value. Lucius, dear, remind me. What was it called, again? Sungetti, spetetti…? Oh dear, I only recall the brand’s name, ‘Mom’.”
“Perhaps ‘Stundetti’, darling?” Lucius offered.
“No, no dearest, not quite that… But it ended on ‘etti’, that I know! Where are the Zabinis when you need them? They’d certainly know.”
Hermione couldn’t take it any longer. It was too much of a stupid situation, and for the dear life of her, she could not ignore it.
“YOU MUST BE FUCKING KIDDING ME! ARE YOU REALLY DISCUSSING A TYPE OF PASTA WHILE A BABY IS COMING OUT OF MY VAGINA? ARE YOU SERIOUS?”
Lucius gasped, “Dear, Sirius died a long time ago…”
Honestly, Draco could not believe his eyes. Dear. Fucking. Merlin. This was ridiculous. No, honestly, he was at a total loss of words. His jaw dropped and all he could do was shake his head.
What was even happening?!
Well, let’s recap, shall we?
On one hand, his parents had come without prior notice — like it was the most normal thing in the world, coming unannounced to the birth of their grandchild — and at that, with a bowl of pasta in their hands. On the other literal hand, he was holding Hermione, checking in on her, while trying to witness the birth of his child. And to top it off, the midwife was very clearly holding back a giggle, because, again, this situation was ridiculous.
It was surreal – The fucking pinnacle of embarrassment.
Ah-ah-ah, Draco! Focus! Focus!
And that he did. He rolled his eyes and, determined to ignore the situation, Draco checked on Hermione once again. Her groans were getting louder, and the grip on his hand was very firm. He could feel how that one contraction kept going stronger and stronger, and her grasp was growing tighter and tighter.
That was it! The baby was almost there!
“Sadetti?”
Placing a kiss on her temple, Draco looked down at Hermione. Oh, sweet Merlin, she looked exhausted. Her hair was messy, loose strands of her curls were drenched in sweat, her face was scarlet red, and some veins popped on her forehead. That was how hard she was pushing. She was giving her everything. Her palms were sweaty, knees weak, arms were heavy…
“MOM’S SPAGHETTI!” Narcissa shouted suddenly.
Pop!
…
That first cry.
Draco and Hermione remembered very vividly. After hours of contractions, tears, sweat and screams, baby Scorpius was finally there with them. After nine months of patience, their sweet tiny bundle of joy finally had arrived!
Overjoyed and very carefully, Hermione held Scorpius in her loving embrace. She cried and laughed at the same time, rocking him and welcoming him to the world, happiness completely overwhelming her. She could not believe she had just become a mum; good Merlin, had so much love to give!
Draco’s heart melted when he saw his son in Hermione’s arms. With a tear in the corner of his eye, he caressed his baby’s platinum hair that looked so much like his, and couldn’t stop smiling. He was there, Scorpius was finally there!
It was the perfect family picture: Scorpius was so, so small, and he looked so safe in his mother’s arms. Lovingly, Draco kissed Hermione’s head as she kissed her baby’s temple, and then, the realisation hit them.
They had just become parents. They had to take responsibility for that tiny little wizard. And it was such a heart-warming, loving, yet scary realisation. But it didn’t matter.
Because they were happy.
…
Grandparents.
They had become grandparents.
By definition, grandparents took care of their grandchildren and allowed the spoils that the parents didn’t agree with. Chocolate frogs? Bertie Bott’s? Jelly Slugs? New Quidditch Equipment? Oh, you name it! Having become grandparents, Lucius and Narcissa would do it all. They were absolutely thrilled with baby Scorpius. He was the spitting image of Draco when he had been born: Platinum blonde hair and a grumpy little face.
Delightful. Adorable.
Malfolicious.
“Congratulations, mon cher Dragon, you’re going to be an amazing father. And you did an excellent job, Hermione, darling. I’m sure you will excel at being a mother, as well.”
Lucius nodded in agreement and congratulated the pair. He then handed over the plate of pasta to Hermione and she giggled, handed baby Scorpius over to Draco, and began to eat.
“Alright, I need to know. How? How in Merlin’s name did you come up with the idea of coming to witness the birth of your grandchild with a bowl of spaghetti?”
The family laughed it off. Maybe it was for the best.
…