Harry sprinted down the open corridor of St. Mungos as quickly as his legs would take him, his eyes searched the door numbers in sequence.
Harry hoped he was not too late, he had left auror training as soon as he received the owl, hastily written in Draco’s handwriting.
He heard steps around the corner near his destination. Harry hurried towards the sound, spotting a frantic Draco pacing the corridor in front of room D-137.
“What’s going on, Draco? Where’s Hermione?!” His heart dropped anxiously at Draco’s demeanor.
Draco’s wild grey eyes lifted to meet Harry’s, “I don’t know how to do this,” he mumbled, still pacing.
“Don’t know how to do what? Is Hermione okay? Is it the baby?” Harry questioned, his voice rising with alarm at each word.
“How are we going to do this?” Draco repeated, fidgeting with his hands, his breaths coming faster as he nervously eyed the room in front of them, “I don’t know how to be a good father. Oh Merlin, how are we going to do this?”
Recognizing what was happening, Harry stepped in front of Draco, blocking off his path and placing his hands on Draco’s shoulders.
“Love.” He gently tilted Draco’s chin to make eye contact with him, “I need you to take a deep breath, okay?”
Draco nodded quickly, inhaling and exhaling a shaky breath.
“You said the same thing before we married, remember that? You nearly fainted during the ceremony because you hadn’t eaten all day.” Harry stroked his thumb on Draco’s cheek.
“It was the same before our first date, remember you waited in front of the restaurant for nearly a half hour before Hermione came and found you? Then you tried to tell Hermione and me to go on the date without you?” A small smile curved Harry’s lips.
“In my defense, your marriage would be less complicated without my family history,” Draco grumbled.
“It would not be a fraction of the marriage if we didn’t have you. We would have killed each other years ago. We need you to balance us, just as you need us.”
Harry’s hand reached up, fingers softly running through the hair at Draco’s temple. “You’ve been doubting yourself every step of the way and you know what? You’ve been an outstanding husband. I have no doubts that you will make a fantastic father.”
Draco’s eyes looked down at the floor as he shifted in place, “I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Neither have Hermione or I. We’re all equal here. We are going to make mistakes and learn from them, it’s what every parent does. No one is expecting perfection, okay?” Harry said comfortingly.
“But that baby in there—” Draco gestured to the door, “that baby deserves perfection. That baby is a combination of the most important people in my life, of everything good I have ever had.”
Draco looked to Harry helplessly before repeating, “How are we going to do this?”
“We are going to do this the way we have always done everything,” Harry reached up, lacing his fingers behind Draco’s neck, stroking with his thumbs, “together.”
“What’s our motto?” Harry prompted with a soft smile.
“I mean, it’s more our wife being a swot than a motto…” Draco argued weakly.
Harry raised his eyebrows and waited for Draco to answer.
Draco sighed, “That we’re a triangle, and that triangles are the strongest shape because of their support system—any stress is evenly spread through all three sides.”
“Exactly, together we can handle anything.”
Draco pressed his forehead against Harry’s, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing.
“Now, speaking of our lovely wife, where is Hermione?” Harry murmured, snagging a quick kiss before pulling away.
Draco gestured sheepishly to the door, “I’m supposed to be getting her ice.”
“Well, then let’s get some ice and bring it back to her, okay?” Harry wandered around another corner, filling a cup with crushed ice from a container that appeared to be under a stasis charm.
Harry handed the ice to Draco, “It’s going to be okay, but she needs us to be there for her right now.”
Draco’s eyes expanded in distress, “You’re right, she needs us , and I’ve just been standing out here panicking like a tosser. She’s probably in there in pain and alone and terrified. See! I’m going to be the worst father ever—” he rambled.
“It’s okay to be scared,” Harry assured him, “I’m bloody terrified, but right now it’s not about us. We need to be strong, for Hermione.”
“For Hermione,” Draco whispered.
“For the baby,” Harry added.
“For the baby,” Draco nodded solemnly.
Harry opened the door to the private maternity room which would double as a delivery room.
Hermione sat propped up in an inclined bed, wearing a light blue hospital gown and a thin blanket. She had her legs stretched out in front of her and a single hand on her swollen belly; she smiled affectionately at the men walking through the door.
“Well, there are my husbands. Are you two okay?” She asked, her brow furrowed in concern.
Draco let out a bark of a nervous laugh, “You’re really asking us that? It should be us asking you.”
“Normally, I’d agree,” she smirked, “but you look a tad like nearly headless Nick at the moment.”
Harry shook his head and chuckled, pulling a seat up next to her bed, “I can assure you, love, not a single head was lost out in the corridor.” He finished with a quick wink.
“Are you going to stay over there all day? You might get quite the view soon,” Hermione quipped, eyeing Draco who was still standing across the room, clutching the cup of ice so tightly his knuckles were white.
He stumbled over his steps as he made his way to Hermione, kissing her softly on the lips, “How are you feeling? How’s the baby?” he questioned, apprehensively placing a hand on her belly.
Hermione tenderly placed her hand on top of Draco’s, holding it to her stomach, “The same as the last twenty times you checked between sending the owl and Harry’s arrival—still good, love.”
Draco blinked, nodding profusely as if satisfied with the answer. He then took the remaining chair in the room and set it up on the opposite side of the bed, finally allowing himself to sit.
Harry gently pushed away a stray curl from Hermione’s face, kissing her forehead softly, “You look so beautiful right now,” he whispered, his lips curving up into a smile.
“I feel like a cow,” she grumbled, “I’m grateful we’ve had a healthy pregnancy—don’t get me wrong—but I can see why my mum only wanted to do this once. Mrs. Weasley has to be completely mental for doing this as many times as she did.”
Draco smirked, opening his mouth to reply but Hermione cut him off with a glare, “Don’t you dare say what you were going to say.”
He closed his mouth sheepishly.
Moving his chair down to the base of her bed, Harry pulled back the blanket covering Hermione’s feet. He picked up one foot and pushed a thumb deep into her arch.
Hermione tossed her head back in bliss, “Oh my god, never stop doing that. In fact, you live there now. I’ll bill you the property taxes.”
Harry’s lips quirked into a sly smile as she continued.
“My feet are so sore all the time. You’d think magic would have some way to fix that. I wonder if there is a way to use magic to fix that?” Her eyes closed, letting her mind run through possible solutions.
Draco’s eyes searched her face, looking for signs that she was no longer fine.
Hermione turned towards him, “I’m still good,” she assured him, reading his mind.
Draco tilted the cup of ice against her pink lips; she smiled gratefully, allowing a few crushed pieces into her mouth.
A click rang out as the door to the room opened; a healer walked into the open space.
Without looking up from her clipboard she said, “Good morning, mum, looks like all your scans are perfect so far. I’m here to check how your labour is progressing.”
Finally glancing up, the healer took in the scene before her. Hermione was laid out comfortably on the large inclined bed, her feet being tended to by Harry while Draco lovingly stroked her hair as he fed her ice.
The healer raised her eyebrows at the trio, “Well, hello there, I hadn’t noticed the new arrivals. Now, which one of you is the lucky dad?”
Harry and Draco made eye contact, smiling widely at each other before turning back to the healer, “We are,” they announced proudly.
She looked at Hermione who nodded in confirmation and then looked back at her chart in surprise, “A triad? Some witches get all the luck,” she mumbled to herself as she scanned the notes.
The room was dimmed, the hospital bed had been magically expanded to fit the three adults. Draco and Harry sandwiched Hermione between them as the trio attempted to get sleep for the night. It was nearly dawn and none of them had been able to sleep yet.
Suddenly, Hermione gasped, shifting uncomfortably as she clutched her stomach with both hands.
“Oh my god!” Harry looked over Hermione at Draco with wide eyes, “It’s happening!”
Draco was already halfway out of the bed, “I’ll go get the healer!”
“Stop!” Hermione grimaced, reaching out for Draco’s arm, “You don’t need to get the healer, remember we don’t need her until the contractions are closer together. It’s not time to push yet,” she insisted.
Harry sighed, looking exhausted, “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“What?” Hermione spat out.
“No!" Harry's eyes shot open, immediately realizing his mistake, "I didn’t mean it like that, love, I just mean that I don’t think you realize how hard this is for us,” he said, regretting the words as they came out of his mouth.
Hermione turned to him with murder in her eyes, “How hard this is for you?” She repeated, her voice dangerously low.
“I’m sorry—that was a stupid thing to say, we’ve just been up all night waiting and we are so nervous and—”
“How hard. This is. For YOU?!” Hermione’s voice raised in frustration.
“Love, he didn’t mean it.” Draco said desperately trying to placate Hermione as Harry covered his head with a pillow, “You are a beautiful ray of sunshine and we are just lucky to bask in the glow of your radiance. Please don’t kill him, I promise that you’d really miss him eventually.”
Hermione glanced at Harry from the corner of her eye, “Fine—he can live. For now. Mention again how hard a go you’re having and I’ll succeed where Voldemort failed,” she threatened, only half-joking.
She groaned as another wave of contractions came.
Draco and Harry made fearful eye contact before turning their attentions back to their wife.
Hermione let out a frustrated whimper, holding her back as she waddled around the room, willing her labour to move faster. Draco walked two steps behind her, following her around the room anxiously.
She huffed, glaring at the blank wall in front of her.
“Draco,” she tried to bite her tongue, “is there any chance you can go find me some food? For the baby—" She corrected quickly, "the baby really needs food right now.”
“Food?” His eyes widened, “Yes, I can get you all the food, I will be right back!”
“Wait—” she paused, her mind shifting through a list of chocolates, “specifically, I really need a muggle sweet. It’s called a…a Lion, I really need a Lion bar.”
“Don’t worry, I will be back with ‘a Lion’ for the baby, wait right here!” Draco called, sprinting out of the room.
“Not like I could go anywhere,” she muttered bitterly to herself.
She turned to Harry, “He was wandering the corridors like a maniac when you arrived, wasn’t he?”
Harry nodded slowly, “You know him, he just gets like this sometimes. He will be much better with the next baby.”
“Do not start with me on ‘the next baby’, let’s get this one out of me first before we even entertain the conversation.” Hermione hissed before pausing, “Maybe I really do need chocolate.”
Harry smirked, “Yeah, a Lion? Really, Hermione? I haven't seen you eat a single Lion bar in the past 15 years. Plus, didn’t the healer say something about no food until after birth?”
She scoffed quietly, “I regret nothing. He was driving me mental! I haven’t been able to breathe since we stepped into this hospital. I love him, you know I do, but his anxiety is equal parts endearing and frustrating. Hovering over me isn’t going to get this baby out of me any faster. Trust me, if it helped I’d be first in line for a human shadow!”
Hermione continued her justification, “He just needs something productive to put his energy towards. It’ll wear him out a bit, like a hyper child.”
“Hey…you never do this sort of thing to me, do you?” Harry asked, self-consciously rubbing his arm.
“Whaaat?” Hermione patted his hand, “Never, love, never. He shouldn’t be gone long, maybe fifteen minutes or so.”
“Fifteen minutes? Just where do you think he’s going to be able to find a muggle candy in the middle of wizarding London?” Harry asked, visibly amused, “I can’t think of a single shop that sells muggle candy nearby.”
She hesitated, a slight panic in her voice, “It won’t be that difficult, right?”
Harry teased, “If he misses the birth of our first child because he’s off on an obscure chocolate hunt for you—you’re going to feel so guilty .”
“Well, he…I mean, he wouldn’t…oh my god, he’s going to have no clue where to go, is he? He has no muggle currency. What did I do?!” Hermione stopped mid-waddle, hunching over as another contraction gripped her.
Harry jumped up, gently rubbing circles into her back, “It’s going to be fine, love, he will figure something out. He’s a Malfoy, he will probably buy the entire company for you. I’ll bet he’s already in negotiations as we speak.”
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, “Oh god, I wish you weren’t right. We’re about to own a sweets company, aren’t we?”
Draco jogged out into the entryway of St. Mungos, having come from an unsuccessful trip to the kitchens—those elves were quite rude.
He found his way up to the reception desk.
“Excuse me, I’m trying to find something called ‘a Lion bar’ for my wife. Is there any chance you know where I can get one?” Draco asked desperately, unwilling to go back to Hermione empty handed.
The receptionist shook his head sympathetically, “Sorry, mate, I’ve never heard of that before. What is that?”
“It’s a type of sweet—a chocolate sweet—” Draco supplied, “apparently really good for babies and labouring wives.”
“You might have some luck down the alley, they have a full gift shop that’s pretty popular. It’s just straight ahead, on the left.”
“Thank you!” Draco called over his shoulder as he ran out the front door.
Navigating through the alleyway, he quickly identified the gift shop as recommended by the receptionist. In the shop window there were large bouquets of flowers, small stuffed animals, charmed toys, and a section for candy.
“Finally,” he muttered under his breath, opening the door and heading straight for the candy aisle.
He quickly looked through the rows, chocolate galleons, cockroach clusters, chocolate frogs, chocoballs, fudge flies, Draco paused—what did ‘a Lion bar’ even look like? He should have asked, he thought, mentally berating himself for complicating this single task.
Hermione had barely asked for anything this entire pregnancy. He could not fail to procure the one thing she truly wanted.
Draco waited in line impatiently until he reached the register at the front of the store, “Excuse me, I’m looking for a candy called ‘a Lion bar’ for my wife, she’s pregnant—I mean she’s almost not anymore, she’s in labour—sorry, I’m digressing. I really need to find it. Do you know where I can go?”
The shopkeeper chuckled, “Pureblood, huh? You’re looking on the wrong side of London. That’s a muggle candy, you’ve got to go to muggle London to get yourself one of those.”
Draco’s shoulders slumped in disappointment, “Merlin, I didn’t think of that. Do you have any muggle currency on you? I’m short on time, I can’t stop by Gringott’s to exchange galleons and still make it back in time. I’ll trade you; I have money with me—I’ll give you as much as you want,” he insisted, pulling out a large pouch of gold coins.
The shopkeeper’s mouth fell open in shock, “Mate, I only have maybe two hundred and fifty pounds in my safe, certainly not enough to justify the exchange rate for that." He gestured at the pouch, “That looks like a thousand pounds, easy.”
“I don’t care, I’ll take it. Two hundred and fifty pounds, that’s enough for ‘a Lion bar’, is it?” Draco asked worriedly.
Chuckling, the shopkeeper nodded, “It should be, yeah.”
They exchanged funds and Draco ran out of the shop, headed quickly towards the brick wall that led to muggle London.
“Who packed the baby bag?” Hermione asked, looking suspiciously at Harry.
“…This feels like a trap.”
“It’s not a trap, I’m just wondering which one of you used an extension charm and packed an entire nursery in the baby bag.” Hermione said matter-of-factly.
Harry scoffed in offense, “I did not pack an entire nursery!”
“There’s a literal cot in there.”
“Babies need cots,” he sniffed haughtily.
“And about a thousand nappies.”
“Babies need nappies,” he shrugged.
“You do realize this is only needed between the birth and when we bring the baby home, right?” Hermione crinkled her forehead, holding back a laugh.
“I just wanted to be prepared,” Harry insisted.
Hermione peered deeper into the bag, her head disappeared inside.
“Harry James!" She exclaimed loudly, "Is there a house elf in here?!”
Harry pulled the bag away defensively, “Of course not,” he snapped it shut, “that would be ridiculous.”
“Harry…” Hermione started nervously, “Draco’s going to make it back, right? He’s been gone quite a long time…”
Harry shrugged, “Do you want me to send my patronus? The healer said you’re still only halfway dilated, we still have time if you want to wait.”
“Please send it, I’m really starting to feel—”
The door swung open, Draco stood in the doorway, panting slightly as he carried in a stack of boxes as tall as his head.
“Oh my god.”
“At least he didn’t buy the company,” Harry guffawed.
“Was that an option?” Draco peeked his head around the stack as he balanced them carefully, “Because I can go back out—”
“No!” Hermione interrupted him, “No, love, you’ve done well. Thank you so much!”
Draco set the boxes down, straightening the stack.
Hermione stared at him, her mouth fell open, “What are you wearing ?!”
“What this?” Draco looked down at himself, “You always tell me I stick out when I dress like a muggle. I tried to do it better this time.”
“And what was the inspiration for this outfit?” Harry asked, blatantly ogling Draco.
Draco frowned, “You two are doing that thing again.”
“What thing?” Hermione asked innocently.
“That thing where you make fun of me, when I mess up doing something muggle, without saying it out loud. I just picked an outfit from that movie you made me watch last week, the singing one.”
Hermione raised her eyebrows, “Well, that certainly explains the leather. Will you do a pregnant lady a favour and turn for me?”
Draco smirked as he slowly turned, giving a suggestive wiggle.
“I think I have a sudden appreciation for Grease, Hermione,” Harry murmured.
Hermione chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully, “When I’m less pregnant, this outfit is making another appearance.”
Draco chuckled as he ripped open the top box, selecting a single candy bar and delivering it to Hermione with a flourish, “For you, my love, I’m sorry you had to wait. You wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to get ‘a Lion bar’ around here!”
“I didn’t miss anything, did I?” Draco asked, looking between Harry and Hermione.
“Absolutely nothing.” Hermione shrugged casually, tearing open the candy wrapping, “My labour is progressing so slowly that all these sweets will be gone before the baby comes out.”
Draco eyed the stack of boxes guiltily, “I didn’t know how many you wanted. I just wanted to make sure I purchased enough.”
“Do I even want to know where you went to find this many Lions?” Hermione asked warily.
“It was all perfectly legal, I just found a local warehouse that had muggle candy and gave them muggle money.” Draco assured her, "I barely had to obliviate anyone."
“No matter how you did it, I think it’s safe to say that we are set for years.” Harry grimaced as he eyed the stack, “Just don’t let the Grangers see our stockpile. You know how they feel about chocolates, they’ll make us go through that flossing seminar again.”
“No, absolutely not, not again.” Draco asserted firmly, “That singing tooth haunted me for weeks.”
“Hey, Timmy the tooth was my favorite stuffy as a kid. A sentient tooth who sings about oral health and moans when he's flossed isn’t odd—” Hermione hesitated, “and now that I say that out loud, I hear it—yes, Timmy should be destroyed.”
Draco collapsed into the nearest chair, “I am completely knackered.”
Hermione arched a brow at Harry, smirking, ‘told you so’, she mouthed smugly.
Harry shook his head, rolling his eyes in amusement, “Hey Draco, Hermione really missed you walking around with her. Said she was lonely. You should try doing that again.”
“Oh!” Draco jumped up, rushing over to Hermione, “So sorry, love, I didn’t mean to rest while you do all the hard work.”
Hermione glared daggers at Harry from around Draco, she slowly slid a finger across her throat while she watched Harry.
Harry maneuvered the door open with his elbow, balancing the tray of food in his arms. He crept into the dimly lit hospital room and shut the door quietly with his foot. Hermione was laying in the hospital bed, smiling widely with her eyes half closed.
“How’s our favourite wife doing?” He asked, selecting a sandwich and handing half to Draco.
“Ask her yourself,” Draco looked over at Hermione, visibly amused as he selected a bottle of pumpkin juice.
“Yellow.” Hermione smiled dreamily, “I feel yellow—no wait, I taste yellow.”
Harry looked to Draco with wide eyes, “What the hell?”
Draco shrugged, “The healer came in with pain potions and then Hermione said that she’s been in active labour for fifteen hours, and I quote, ‘give me all the drugs’.”
“She’s high? ”
“I…am literally magical. ” Hermione asserted confidently, “It is utter bullshite that I have to give birth.”
She gasped theatrically, “Oh my god . We should make a portkey service for babies.”
Draco stifled a laugh as she continued seriously, “We can call it ‘Womb Delivery’,” she waved a hand in front of her before getting distracted, flexing her fingers in front of her face.
“The slogan can be, ‘The Only Delivery You’ll Need is From Womb Delivery'!” Draco offered.
Hermione turned to him, pointing enthusiastically, “Yes!”
Harry looked at Draco, “Must you encourage her?” He turned back to her, “Hermione, love, it’s time to get some sleep.”
“But I’m not—” Hermione cut herself off with a yawn, “sleepy.”
She mumbled while gently closing her eyes, “I’ll get the investors on Monday…together we can save the…vaginas.”
Draco choked on his pumpkin juice, “Merlin, at least one of us is having a good time.”
Harry’s head had slumped down onto Draco’s shoulder. There was a light tap on his shoulder, he let out a small snore before jolting awake.
“Excuse me, are you missing any spouses right now?” A healer asked Harry and Draco expectantly.
Still dazed from sleep, Harry pointed to Draco, then to Hermione as if mentally counting.
The healer looked unamused, “Well, your wife keeps asking for us to owl a bloke named Nicolas, but she keeps providing your home address. Do you know who she’s talking about?”
Harry wearily dragged a hand down his face as Draco leaned back, audibly groaning.
“You can’t owl Nicolas,” Draco declared.
The healer glared at Draco, “Hermione is the patient, not you. If she wants Nicolas to assist in the birth then I have to oblige her.”
Harry looked at her and blinked, “Nicolas is our cat.”
“Her cat,” Draco corrected with a scowl.
The healer sputtered, “That can’t be true, she told me that he is a knight.”
Draco rolled his eyes, “I’m a duke and when we were married the titles and privileges extended to my spouses. The first thing she did—literally right after the ceremony—was knight her cat.”
Looking uneasily between the wizards, the healer finally conceded, “I’ll go speak with her.”
“You didn’t think to pack the cat?” Draco asked, massaging his temples in frustration.
Harry looked incredulous, “Why would I have packed the cat?!”
“You packed literally everything else. Don’t think I didn’t see the house elf stowed away in the baby bag. You should have known she would want that bloody cat.”
Draco paused, “Is this because he pushed your cuppa off the counter last week? I told you not to keep it close to the edge.”
“It’s not about the tea.”
Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“What kind of cat wastes perfectly good tea? Ruining tea to make a point—that’s a bloody American attitude.” Harry grumbled, “Sir Nicolas can sod off.”
Draco smirked, “I knew it was about the tea.”
“How long have we been at this?” Harry murmured to Draco, eyeing a sleeping Hermione from across the room.
“20 hours and 21 minutes.” Draco replied, sighing heavily, “Not that I’ve been counting—but I’ve been counting. 22 minutes...now.”
“She’s going to murder us before this baby comes,” Harry ran a hand through his messy hair.
Draco smiled warmly, trying unsuccessfully to tame a portion of Harry’s hair that was now sticking up.
“So? What is your final guess?” Draco asked, “Will the baby be a Lily or a Scorpius?”
Harry shrugged slightly, “Honestly, no idea. You know Hermione told the healers that we wanted to be surprised. I keep having dreams of a little baby boy though. He looks like you.”
“Speaking of,” Draco lowered his voice, “I was reading that book she gave us, you know ‘The Everything Guide to Wizarding Parenthood’ and they had a section on magical triads.”
Harry grimaced, “I have to admit, I didn’t do the reading—don’t tell Hermione—what did it say?”
Draco chuckled, “I think she’s aware, we did go to school together. She probably gave you the book as a novelty at this point. Anyway, it had a mention, a footnote really, about triads and pregnancy. It mentioned a rare case when the magical bond of a trio transferred traits from each parent to the baby. A perfect mix.”
Harry’s eyebrows disappeared into his messy hair, “That’s possible? Does Hermione know?”
“I mean, she gave us the book and she knows most everything, but I find it curious she didn’t mention it. I wonder if she didn’t want to give us false hope.”
Harry frowned, “Well, it wouldn’t have been ‘false hope’, I don’t care about biology. No matter what happens, this baby is equally our child. He—”
“—Or she,” Draco interrupted.
“—will be unconditionally loved.”
“I couldn’t agree more. I think I’m ready,” Draco announced confidently, “I know I had a bit of a panic at the start of all this, but I think I’m ready now.”
“I’d hope so, I don’t think the little one is going to give us much choice in the matter soon,” Harry looked to Hermione’s large belly.
Draco exhaled slowly, “We can definitely do this, right?” He reached for Harry’s hand, taking it in his.
Harry grinned, looking to Hermione and back to Draco before nodding, “We can definitely do this.”
“Love, you are doing great!” Harry encouraged, holding up one of her thighs as she pushed.
“You are a life-giving goddess of beauty and perfection.” Draco announced, propping her other thigh and stroking it softly, “We are graced to be in your presence. We are so proud of you, you are so strong!”
“Do continue with the birthing affirmations! I'll tell you when to stop.” She smiled weakly, whimpering in pain.
“You are Hermione Granger, a powerful, capable, intelligent, and amazing witch who is going to be the best mum this little baby will ever know.” Draco insisted as she tensed, “We are better men for having you.”
“I love you so much,” she whispered, her tired eyes full of tears as she pushed, her face glistening with sweat.
“We love you.” Harry and Draco assured her, “You’re almost there!”
She grasped for any strength left as another contraction arrived. She held a deep breath and released it with a groan.
“Final push…keep going, you can do it!” The healer encouraged.
“The baby is here!” The healer proclaimed. They heard the sound of a snip as her wand sent a spell to cut the umbilical cord. Immediately following the snip was the tiny, sweet cry of their baby. “He’s here!”
Draco and Harry each took one of Hermione’s hands in theirs and reached across her to hold hands. Their arms formed a triangle as they held each other.
“He’s here.” Harry repeated softly.
The healer cleaned off their newborn and ran a quick diagnostic spell to confirm that he was perfectly healthy, finally swaddling him in a blanket.
She placed their son on Hermione’s chest. The trio looked from the baby to each other, tears filling their eyes, completely overwhelmed by the love passing between them.
“Congratulations to the new parents,” the healer added with a knowing smile, “I have a feeling this is a very lucky little boy.”
Scorpius fussed softly, cocooned in his swaddle. He lay comfortably on his mum’s chest, his hazel eyes looking curiously at his surroundings.
He was settled in the centre of their triangle—the centre of their world, and he was so loved.
“He is perfect ,” Hermione’s voice choked with emotion as she held the hands of her husbands.
“His eyes.” Draco whispered in awe, “They’re grey.”
“Ringed with green,” Harry added fondly.
“With flecks of brown,” Hermione’s voice wavered.
“A perfect mix of us.”