‘’Agrid, I zink we should call ze midwife.’

Turning around, he faced her. ‘Wha’?’ he sleepily mumbled and rubbed his eyes with his hands. ‘Mi’wife?’

‘Oui! And as soon as possible!’ she said, and then gasped, falling back onto her back. He was awake in an instant.

‘Olympe, what is it?’

Her only answer was her hand grabbing his and pressing it tightly until Hagrid could hear his bones crack. He had to grit his teeth in order to not cry out because her squeeze was far more powerful than he had thought it would be.

After some time the pressure decreased, and Hagrid took his hand out of hers carefully massaging it. It would be coloured all black and blue the next day he thought, but putting that out of his mind, he leaned over Olympe in worry and gently asked, ‘’re you okay? Do you still need to see a mediwitch?’

‘Non, not a mediwitch. Midwife, ‘Agrid, midwife. I zink ze bebe is coming.’

He paled under his thick dark beard and hair, both straying wildly this shortly after sleeping. Mumbling nonsense, he got up and started pacing through the room, wringing his hands in a desperate manner.

‘’Agrid!’ Olympe gasped again and sank back onto her pillow. He was with her instantly. ‘Go!’ she screamed. Shocked at her shout, that to him in that moment sounded a lot like a horrendous banshee shriek, he sprinted out of the room.

When the bedroom door was closed behind him, however, he stopped dead in his tracks. Looking around helplessly, he started to ponder. And he didn’t think that leaving her alone was the best to do.

Stop arguing and go! the voice of his better conscience interrupted.

Yet instead of doing what he was supposed to do – already having been ordered by two different “persons� – he paced up and down the sitting room. His pacing was often accompanied by Olympe’s gasps and cursing which he couldn’t understand since they were in French. But when everything fell silent, he feared she could have died. He feared that he hasn’t been there to help her, just as he had known it would happen. But relief ran through his very core when he heard her gasp and curse again.

Sometime later that night, while still pacing, he passed the mantelpiece of the fireplace where he kept the photos. The people in the photos were moving, like they usually did in wizarding photography. He kept photos of him and his dad from years ago, as well as a lot of pictures of Harry, Ron and Hermione and their families. The newest were holiday photos of the Weasleys and Potters. And just then he knew what he had to do.

Loud pounding on his door made Harry sit bolt upright in his bed, wand in hand. Which he always kept close to him, a habit acquired during the second war which he still had not been able to drop. Next to him Ginny turned and mumbled, ‘What time is it?’

‘Three in the morning. And someone’s at the door.’

Now Ginny was fully awake, too. ‘Who?’ she simply asked, but Harry couldn’t tell her. Instead he shrugged.

‘We’ll have to find out.’

Both, armed with their wands, tiptoed down the stairs and positioned themselves on either side of the entrance door. Harry then fumbled with the key, and when the door swung open, a huge man stumbled in, bigger in height than the average wizard. When the late night visitor had caught himself and stood straight again, both Ginny and Harry recognised him.

It was Hagrid.

‘Do you know what time it is?’ Ginny asked, her voice calm but bearing a sharp undertone which the intruder didn’t miss. Her wand arm was still raised, and Harry saw that the wand glowed dangerously in a light red light.

Hagrid backed away, holding up his hands in defence. ‘I’m sorry, but I didna know wha’ else to do.’ He was pale and his hair was uncombed. He even still wore his pyjamas.

Ginny opened her mouth, but before she could say something else – or possibly curse him for disturbance, he thought – Harry spoke, ‘What happened, Hagrid?’

The Keeper of the Keys of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry briefly told them that his Olympe was at home, lying in their bed, and was enduring horrible pains, and that the intervals between the pains became shorter.

Harry gaped at his old friend, but Ginny gasped. ‘Oh, by Gryffindor, she’s having her baby? Tonight?’ The redhead turned to her husband, finally taking down the wand. ‘You should go with Hagrid and see that everything goes well.’ Her brown eyes began to sparkle and held a dreamy expression. ‘I can’t believe it, Hagrid’s becoming a dad!’ she exclaimed overjoyed and clasped her hands together.

While Hagrid stared at Ginny, Harry said he’d go change and that both men would then be off.

Olympe still lay in labour when both arrived at Hagrid’s house. After quickly having checked that nothing too serious was going to happen, Harry led Hagrid into the sitting room and urged his friend to sit down. Then he left for St. Mungo’s to get a midwife; he returned with one after only ten minutes.

Both men then could do nothing more than wait. From time to time the midwife would come out; at these moments Hagrid sprung up and ran into the bedroom. But the soon-to-be mother kept evicting him out of the room by throwing all kinds of objects at him: at first pillows, then combs and by now she was already throwing her slippers, all the while cursing him in the worst swear words the French language had to offer. None of these really hurt Hagrid, but he got the picture that she wanted to be left alone.

Exhausted from worrying so much, Hagrid tiredly sank onto the sofa again and hid his face in his hands. ‘I’m gonna to be a ‘orrible dad,’ he said after some minutes of silence. His shoulders sagged and he looked really despaired. He even started to cry.

Harry put a hand on Hagrid’s arm to console his friend. ‘Don’t be stupid, Hagrid,’ he softly said. ‘You’re going to be a great dad. I know you’ll be. So stop worrying. Both you and Madame Maxime are going to have a beautiful child, and both you and Madame Maxime will love the baby. You will be wonderful, believe me. My own children love you, and you’re always nice to them. So why should you be different to your own child?’

An eye of the older man popped through his fingers. ‘You sure?’ Hagrid asked doubtfully.

‘I’ve never been surer of something in my life, Hagrid.’

A grin spread in the unshaved face, and Harry suddenly found himself in a bear hug that threatened to break his rips.

The baby was born hours later. But both Hagrid and Harry had in the meantime fallen asleep on the sofa; the younger man lay sprawled in Hagrid’s lap. They had been talking about children and what to do when they started bugging you until nearly six in the morning. But in the end exhaustion asked for its price, and they had welcomed the sleep.

‘They make a nice picture, don’t you think?’

‘I agree, Mum,’ Ginny responded and smiled, both at seeing her husband this relaxed and at her mother’s dreamy expression. ‘Let them sleep, I’d say, and check out how Madame Maxime is doing.’

Her mother just nodded, so both women went to the bedroom.

Olympe Maxime welcomed them with a tired but very pleased smile. ‘Eet iz a girl,’ she aspirated and fondly looked at her daughter. The little girl was bigger than but just as cute as any other baby. She already had a mop of dark hair on her head, and currently one little fist was stuck into her toothless mouth.

‘She’s a beauty,’ Ginny said and sank onto the bed to get a closer look. ‘Do you already have a name for her?’

Olympe smiled, and with another fond look at her daughter and pride, she said, ‘Rubia Maxime Hagrid.’