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C H A P T E R  F I F T E E N | Vera Verto

spell. turns animals into water.

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IT'S STRANGE HAVING RON IN THE ROOM THIS TIME.

But the familiarity of having the goofball around comforts Hermione as they anxiously await for Emsilia's entrance.

Across the room, Ron is laughing at his own jokes regarding the miniature skeleton figure that stands on the counter by the sink.

Meanwhile, Pansy has been relatively quiet. Her brows knit together as she continues writing down notes in her journal, the contents of which she hasn't yet revealed to Hermione. She looks pleased when Emsilia enters the room, though.

"Miss Hermione," she says with a wide grin. "You appear to be the picture of optimal health - and, you've brought Miss Parkinson and the father, I presume?"

Her eyes shine as she looks across the bed to Pansy and Ron.

"Uh, yes," he says, seemingly unsure of his part in all of this.

"Excellent," she replies. "Then, let's get started shall we?"

Hermione lays down before pulling her shirt up to reveal the hardened bump of her belly. She watches as Emsilia extracts her wand from an inner pocket of her dark black cloak. The woman's wrinkled hand begins to slowly drift the wand over her bare stomach, and a moment later, the screen to her left brightens. After adjusting her angle, Emsilia locates a side profile of Baby G.

"Aw!"

Pansy squeals while pulling her chair as close to the bed as possible. Ron gives a quiet chuckle, but it sounds strained and breathless.

Hermione watches him for a moment. She can see herself in his reaction, as she was seeing the baby for the first time just a little over a month ago. Instead of reaching for his hand like she wants, she grabs hold of Pansy's instead, before she turns her attention back to the screen.

Tiny legs kick elegantly like a miniature swimmer; a throbbing heartbeat echoes loudly in whooshes that threaten to consume Hermione whole; hands cradle themselves against a small chest. Baby G's facial profile is in view, and she searches for any identifiers as to who he or she looks more like. A round forehead gives way to am upturned nose and softly puckered lips atop a cherub chin.

Like every other baby in the world, she thinks, slightly disappointed that the observation doesn't give way to more information.

Emsilia adjusts her wand again, and while she does so, Hermione asks if she can tell how far along the pregnancy is. The woman nods and commands her wand to continue hovering over Hermione's belly. She digs in her cloak pocket once more, and this time she extracts a tape measure of some sort, which she places across the length of Hermione's stomach. She tilts her head left, then right before holding up the device for several seconds. When she places it back in her pocket, she looks at Hermione.

"Thirteen weeks, or so," she says before grasping her wand once more. "Would you like to know the sex?"

"Yes!"

Hermione glances over at Pansy with a strange curiousness. As she goes to look back at Emsilia, she can't help but allow her gaze to carefully fall on Ron as well. At thirteen weeks, it's clear who the father is, and if he hasn't come to that conclusion now, he will soon.

"I've had clients in recent years ask me to write it down on a piece of parchment," Emsilia says, drawing Hermione's attention. "Then we can seal it in an envelope until you're ready to know."

She thinks for a moment before agreeing that this way is best, to Pansy's dismay.

"I'll see you in a few months, then," Emsilia tells Hermione as she slips her wand into her cloak. "I will go get that envelope ready for you."

After she leaves, the room is quiet. It causes a tension to rise in the small area, and Hermione would do anything to ease the discomfort.

"At least you don't have to bother with coming to appointments like this anymore," she says, smiling at Ron.

He doesn't smile. Instead, he stalks across the room before disappearing into the hallway.

Pansy is by Hermione's side almost instantly.

"He's just disappointed, I think," she says. "Don't let it get to you, though. I'll talk to him. Will you be all right to make your way back to Hogwarts on your own?"

Hermione nods before watching her friend vanish around the corner. Emsilia emerges a minute later to drop off the envelope.

"You're a blessed woman, Miss Granger," she says with a wink before heading out of the room.

The afternoon seems to drift by slowly with the envelope weighing down her pocket, so Hermione decides to stop lounging around the eighth year common room back at Hogwarts. Instead, she heads out for Grimmauld Place to have another talk with Harry.

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