Delicate - eng version

Call Me Mum

I flop back onto the bed in complete exhaustion, tears rolling down my face and beads of sweat pouring out of me. The unimaginable pain that I've become accustomed to at this stage has eased considerably, but is by no means gone, and I have the feeling that I'll never be able to sit on a broom ever again. Actually, I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to sit on a chair again. Mum kisses my forehead, telling me she's so proud of me. Scorpius's eyes are focused on the baby – my baby – Healer Thorne is holding up and it looks as if he's stopped breathing completely.

"Congratulations," says Healer Thorne, "It's a boy."

A boy – I have a son. And he has ten fingers and ten toes, and he looks (and sounds) completely healthy. Healer Thorne lets Scorpius cut the cord, cleans him and wraps him in a white blanket and hands him to me. He's so tiny. Thorne says he's a big baby, especially one who came early – he's nine pounds. But he's so, so tiny. I'm afraid I'm going to break him. Am I even holding him right? He's not crying anymore and his eyes are closed. How can a person be so small, yet be the cause of so much pain? His cries ease after a few moments, when he has adjusted to life outside my uterus.

"Hello baby boy," I whisper to him. I wonder if he recognises my voice. Maybe if I was more sarcastic and shouted at James for a while he'd feel more at home. I mean, he must have heard all the times I swore while I was pregnant. Shit, speaking of James – I owe him twenty galleons.

"He's...he's brilliant," Scorpius gasps in awe. I'm in awe too. I thought Scorpius might be able to come up with a better adjective for his newborn son than 'brilliant', but I suppose that's a fairly accurate word for him. He is brilliant.

"He's just beautiful," Mum sniffs, leaning in to have a good look at him, "He looks just like you, Scorpius." She's just saying that to be nice. All newborn babies look basically the same. Still Scorpius beams with pride at her words.

"Can I hold him?" Scorpius asks nervously. I pass him over, supporting his head. Scorpius looks so awkward holding him, and completely scared shitless. It's exactly how I feel. After the placenta is delivered and after the Healer clears up everything with a wave of her wand, Mum goes out to tell the family about the new addition. The Healer puts a little blue hat on the baby's head, smiles at us and then leaves us alone.

"He looks like a seeker, doesn't he?" says Scorpius, now looking much more comfortable holding him, "He'll be the best seeker the Wimbourne Wasps ever saw! He'll change the face of Quidditch."

"He's a minute old, don't you think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself?" I yawn, my eyes half-closing.

I don't think I've ever been so exhausted in my life. James made me run twenty laps of the Quidditch pitch in fifth year with a bag full of bricks on my back in the blazing heat and I wasn't even half as tired. It's a struggle to even keep my eyes open, and I'm almost jealous of the baby sleeping soundly in Scorpius's arms.

"You did great, Rose," I can hear Scorpius's saying, "I don't know how you did it."

I don't know how I did it either.

*

I open my eyes and realise that I've slept right through until morning, having fallen asleep at eight o'clock last night. As far as I remember Dad, Mum and Hugo were in here, but I think everyone else went home. Well, everyone else except for Scorpius. He's asleep in the armchair beside my bed. It's nine o'clock and the baby is still sleeping too. Maybe it's not true what people say. Maybe babies don't cry all through the night. Or maybe my baby is just perfect.

Scorpius's arm slips off the chair and he awakes suddenly, looking around him to see where he is.

"Oh, you're awake," he says groggily.