Two months Later
"Something isn't right, I know it." Hermione told her husband as she tossed the pregnancy test into the trash bin, the words Not Pregnant burning into the back of her mind. She let out a small sigh, her hands firmly gripping the counter as she closed her eyes, keeping the tears at bay.
Harry leaned against the threshold of their bathroom door; his arms folded across his broad chest. He'd been studying her, watching as each of the negative pregnancy tests, she'd taken over the last two months tore through her heart. He knew she'd been trying like hell to stay strong, to avoid crying in front of him. He couldn't imagine the weight on her shoulders getting heavier with each passing day, the thought of being exiled from the one place that had become her home. He shook his head, taking a few steps into the bathroom as he stood behind Hermione, wrapping his arms around her waist. He rested his chin atop her shoulder, his grip tightening around her as he felt her body tremble, the dam behind her eyes breaking loose.
'Fuck the Ministry', Harry thought to himself as his heart dropped from his chest. "Come here, love." He whispered in her ear, turning her body into his as she sobbed, her tears staining his burgundy shirt. "Shh, it's okay 'Mione. It will be okay."
"H-how c-can y-you be so s-sure of that?"
"Because no one can go through as much hell as we've been through and not receive anything good in return."
"Try telling that to my bloody body." Hermione sniffled, her sobs subsiding for the time being.
"Maybe we should go see a healer? Just to make sure that everything is alright." He suggested, his thumbs wiping the last of her tears off her solemn face. Hermione inhaled deeply, knowing her husband was right. She nodded her head slowly.
"I'll floo St. Mungo's, see if there's an appointment available for today." She told him, leaning on her tip toes to place a chaste kiss upon his lips.
Harry nodded, watching as she exited the loo as he prayed to Merlin everything would go their way.
Two hours later, Harry was sat nervously in an armchair, his knee bouncing up and down as he watched Healer Moore cast what seemed to be a hundred charms over Hermione's abdomen.
Hermione's heart began to race, her eyes bouncing back and forth as she watched the young, blonde healer cast charms over her. After ten minutes of checking over Hermione, Healer Moore placed her wand inside her pocket, picking up her clipboard as she jotted down notes.
"You can sit up now, Mrs. Potter." She told her softly. Hermione obliged as Harry stood up, taking his wife's hand in his as stood beside her.
"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked concerned. Normally when a healer has good news, they sound cheery and their face bright like the sun.
"Hermione, over the years have you ever been in contact with any curses?"
'I fought in a bloody war a few years ago, so I'm pretty damn certain a few curses and hexes have been aimed my way' Hermione thought but fought back the urge to speak the words aloud. "Not that I recall." She told her.
"There was one curse that hit you." Harry began, Hermione's head quickly turning to face him, her eyes widening.
"When?"
"In the Department of Mysteries years ago, cast by Antonin Dolohov. It knocked you out for a good while. Hell, I thought you had died until Neville had told me he had found a pulse, faint albeit. No one ever knew what type of curse it was since the bastard never spoke it."
"That must be it." Healer Moore spoke, her voice resonating with sorrow.
"What do you mean? What does Dolohov's curse have to do with anything?" Hermione asked frantic, her pulse quickening as knots began to form in the pit of her stomach.
Healer Moore sighed, running a hand through her pixie cut hair. "Hermione, it seems that Antonin Dolohov's curse did a bit of damage to your reproductive system. There is a bit of scarring in your womb and it looks as if your eggs are significantly lower than what they should be at a woman of your age. Your left fallopian tube is severely scarred, that could possibly be where the curse struck you the most."
Hermione could feel her body begin to tremble. Her breathing became short, her eyes glossing with tears. She could feel Harry's grip on her hand tighten. She couldn't bear to look him in the eye, not now. She thought her scars of the war had healed, the threat of her life no longer hanging over her head. But of course, the arse hole who did this to her was still torturing her from beyond the grave. She opened her mouth to speak, her words seeming to be stuck in her throat as nothing came out.
"So, what you're saying is Hermione could never have children of her own?" Harry asked quietly, his emerald eyes seeking answers as he stared intently at the healer before him.
"There's about a ninety-five percent chance that your wife won't be able to have a child." Healer Moore confirmed.
Hermione winced at the percentage. 'A ninety-five percent chance that I won't be able to have a child.' She let loose the sobs that had built within her, her hands closing around her face. Her dreams of becoming a parent shattered around her. Harry held her, rubbing a hand down her back as he fought back his own sobs.
"Um, what about the other five percent chance? Surely there is something we can do."
"I personally recommend fertility potions. She'd have to take them once a week. A five percent chance is extremely low but with her age and how healthy she is, your wife has a shot at getting pregnant."
"You hear that love? You still have a shot." Harry told her as he continued to rub small circles in the middle of her back. Hermione looked up from her hands, her clearing her throat as she opened her mouth, "How soon can I start?"
Over the past couple of weeks, Hermione continued to take her fertility potions each Sunday at six p.m. exactly. Once she'd down the contents of the vial, she spoke, "Please let this work, please." She tossed the empty vial into her trash bin, making her way into the kitchen. She noticed three owls sitting in the window, waiting patiently to open the door. She unlatched the window, pushing it open far enough to let them fly in, taking a seat on the perch.
She recognized the first owl, Ophelia, a Barn-Owl with a beautiful heart-shaped face, whose feathers were an orange-brown hue, her eyes black as coal. She was the one Harry would use the most to send her messages while he worked at the ministry. The next was a Long-Eared Owl, Rio, whose eyes were burnt orange and belonged to Ginny and Draco. And Lastly, a Tawny Owl whom she hadn't recognized, sat on the perch, sticking out its leg as if it was in a hurry to leave. She fed each of the owls a treat before they took off into the setting sun, with Hermione shutting the window behind them, latching the lock back in place.
She decided to open the letter from Harry first, although she had an idea of what the parchment contained. Her eyes scanned the note, confirming what she had previously thought. Harry would be another hour at the Ministry, telling her to go ahead and eat without him, that he'll see her when he gets home and most importantly that he loves her. Her heart skipped a beat as she read the last part, Merlin she never got tired of hearing him tell her those words.
She placed Harry's letter on the counter, turning her attention to Ginny's familiar scroll as she unfolded the parchment.
Hermione!
I know it's been a long while since we've talked but I wanted to let you know that Mum is holding a conjoined baby shower for Luna and myself at the Burrow next month on the 6th. Mum didn't see the point in holding two separate baby showers when we are due a month apart, you know how she gets when it becomes a family affair. Anyway, I do hope that you can make it! Remember, gender-neutral items for me, while Luna's having twin boys! Hope to hear from you soon, please give Harry my love and let him know about the shower. I know my darling husband and my brother would be bored to bits without him there.
Your friend,
Ginevra Malfoy
Hermione smiled fondly at the letter. Of course, she'd be there for her two dearest friends. Despite her fertility issues, she was genuinely happy for Ginny and Luna. She placed the letter atop of Harry's, making a mental note to write the date of the Baby shower on the calendar she and her husband had on the fridge.
The last letter was a bit more formal than the rest. Her eyes widened, noticing the purple, Ministry seal on the back of the envelope.
"Shit. What could they possibly want?" She asked herself, her heart racing a mile a minute. She placed a finger under the seal, breaking it carefully. She pulled out the piece of parchment, carefully reading to herself. Her eyes widened, a hard lump forming in the back of her throat as she read allowed the contents of the letter.
Dear Mrs. Hermione Jean Potter,
I am writing to inform you that your one-year wedding anniversary with Mr. Harry James Potter is rapidly approaching, meaning the deadline to conceive a child is getting quicker as each month passes. As of now, you have about a year and a half to conceive otherwise we will have no choice but to enforce the consequences. I wish you nothing but the best for you and your husband. May you have a wonderful evening.
Sincerely,
Margo Locksworth
Department of Records
"For fuck's sake!" She cried, slamming her hands on the countertop. As if she hadn't already been kicking herself in the arse due to her infertility, now she has the ministry berating her, warning her of the little time she had left. Her body began to tremble, as she let out a cry. Tears trickled down her face, her heart aching. Her worst fears were slowly making their way to the surface. Why in the hell was this happening to her? To Harry?
She placed a hand on her empty abdomen, silently weeping for the unborn children she would most likely never be able to carry. She hadn't realized how much she wanted to be a mother, until that very moment. Sure, she had little Teddy, but for how much longer? If she couldn't conceive then she'd be cast out into the muggle world forever. She knew Harry was going to be pissed at the Ministry for sending her the godawful letter.
"Please, please" she begged, interlocking her fingers together. "Please, give me a miracle. Don't let me lose Harry, not when we just found one another." She hoped to Merlin that someone would hear her. Unable to eat, she turned the lights out in the kitchen, making her way upstairs to the bedroom she shared with her husband, crying herself to sleep before succumbing to her dreams. A smile crept on her face as she slept, for in her dreams did her fantasy come true as she held a beautiful black-haired, brown-eyed little boy in her arms.