Post by jayejaye on Apr 21, 2007 13:30:24 GMT -5
Another Hideaway contest entry. To write a songfic about witnessing a birth. I couldn't bring myself to write an angst fic...it just seemed wrong. So, much to childminerva's disgust, here is a fluffy fic. The song is My Darling by Wilco.
My Darling
Go to sleep now,
My darling,
And I’ll keep all the bad dreams away,
Breathe now, think sweet things,
And I’ll think of all the right words to say.
He held his newborn daughter close to his bare chest, marvelling at her piercing eyes and the intense stare she was giving him. It was as if she already knew who he was and was memorising his features. Tenderly he wrapped her in the light, fluffy pink blanket and laid her gently beside her sleeping mother.
Because we made you,
My darling,
With the love in each of our hearts,
We were a family, my darling,
Right from the start.
He gazed down at his exhausted wife as she slept, tenderly tucking a stray lock of hair behind her delicate ear. Her forehead was still damp. He closed his eyes as he remembered the events a few hours earlier.
------
“If you tell me to relax one more time, Albus Dumbledore, I will hex you into the middle of next week.”
He had quaked at the tone of his wife’s voice. She had been pacing the hospital wing for several hours, the contractions ripping through her body every few minutes. He had been following, wiping the beads of sweat from her furrowed brow with a cool cloth, until she had torn it from his hand and slapped him around the face with it; the second time that afternoon he had been struck by a woman.
Albus sighed; he had only been trying to help. Poppy had chided him earlier for neglecting Minerva during the first few hours of her labour. Ever the strong, stoic Scot, she had done her best to hide how much pain she was in. She had watched indulgently as he conjured a crib and toys for his as yet unborn daughter. Then he had begun reading aloud from a book of baby names, a gift from Hagrid. Poppy had demanded he relinquish the book and had used it to emphasise parts of her lecture with swats to the back of his head.
------
Next to him Minerva stirred in her sleep, unconsciously reaching out her slim fingers to the baby sleeping peacefully beside her. Albus marvelled at the bond between mother and child, formed so long before the birth. He pressed a gentle kiss to his wife’s temple and returned to his thoughts once more.
Because we made you,
My darling,
With the love in each of out hearts,
We were a family, my darling,
Right from the start,
------
As the labour progressed Minerva had grown more and more tired and as the contractions intensified tears formed in her usually vibrant emerald eyes. As a particularly strong one hit her she had groaned loudly and bent almost double grasping the front of his lightweight summer robe with both hands. The fabric tore easily and she buried her face in the coarse grey hair of his chest. He had kissed the top of her head and feeling utterly helpless, rubbed circles on the small of her back hoping to ease the tight muscles. If there was one thing Albus Dumbledore hated it was to see those he loved in pain and he loved none more than his wife, Minerva McGonagall.
Poppy had grown concerned by her long labour and it had fallen to Albus to persuade her to drink the potion that would speed up the birth. Initially she had refused, growing angry at his suggestion. But he had pleaded with her, telling her he could not bear to loose her or their baby. Eventually his tears had been matched by hers and she acquiesced, drinking the vile liquid without complaint.
Things had moved quickly from then on. Minerva had gripped his fingers tightly as the contractions came quicker and quicker. The manicured nails piercing the flesh as he attempted to calm her. He hadn’t noticed the pain; he had only felt her screams reverberating through his soul. It was almost more than he could bear. He had climbed onto the bed and cradled her in his arms. She had clung to him and sobbed, he had never seen her so distraught and she had certainly never broken down in front of anyone other than him before. Poppy had been discreet as ever, working calmly and efficiently as Albus had whispered nonsense words into Minerva’s ear and rocked her back and forth.
One last push and their daughter had been born. Albus had expected his wife to immediately collapse with exhaustion, but she had not. Instead she had smiled, a grin that conveyed her sheer delight as her infectious laugh bubbled in her chest. Soon both he and Poppy were also laughing. The baby in Minerva’s arms had begun to gurgle, as if joining in too. Minerva’s face shone with happiness and, as Poppy insisted on taking the baby to perform her diagnostic spells; he had been unable to resist kissing his wife deeply.
------
The sound of his daughter gurgling again drew Albus from his reverie. As he opened his eyes he was met by Minerva’s, she smiled gently and gazed once more at the child now curled in her arms.
“She’s perfect,” she whispered.
Albus studied their daughter, enchanted by the mop of thick, glossy, raven hair atop her head. Her eyes reflected the light just like her mother’s and Albus thanked Merlin that she had not inherited his nose. He realised that his daughter was almost a carbon copy of his wife and his heart swelled.
“You’re both perfect.” He whispered back, drawing his wife closer and placing a protective arm around their child.
Minerva nestled further into his arms and the sound of her rhythmic breathing indicated her relaxation.
“Goodnight my darlings.” He muttered “Don’t grow up too fast, darling girl.”
Albus settled down to sleep; the happiest man on earth.
Grow up now,
My darling,
But please don’t grow up too fast,
And be sure my darling,
To make all the good times last.
Because we made you,
My darling,
With the love in each of our hearts,
We were a family, my darling,
Right from the start.
