A small, terribly written thing because I'm very excited about the new Princess of Cambridge and yay Weasleys
There was an alarming number of redheads crowded into the waiting room of St. Margaret's Magical Maternity Hospital, and the Healers were getting irritated.
"Now, there's simply no point you all being here!" one said sternly, raising her voice to be heard above the hubbub. "It might be hours yet, and the poor girl's got enough to worry about without her in-laws scratching at the door!"
"But it could be any minute, how are we to know –"
"We can't just go, what if we miss it!"
The Healer folded her arms. "Well, some of you will have to leave. There are other people in this hospital too, you know."
"I'll go," said Harry, who wasn't entirely sure why he was there. He looked at Hermione. She pulled a face – she had been extremely excited about the baby – but nodded.
"Send word when there's news, OK?" she said to Ron, as she and Harry got up to leave.
"All right," said Ron, "but I can tell you now, it's almost definitely going to be a baby –"
"You know what I mean!"
The Healer looked as if she had meant for more than two of them to go, but seemed to realise that the Weasleys had no intention of moving.
"Just – keep it down, then," she ordered crossly, and stalked away.
Another hour passed; Ron fell asleep, sprawled across Harry and Hermione's vacated seats. George produced a pack of cards from somewhere and started a hushed game with Percy while their father watched, yawning widely.
And still they waited, until – at long last – the door at the end of the corridor burst open, bearing a very rumpled and exhausted-looking Bill into the waiting room.
His family drew in a collective breath.
"Well?" demanded George.
Bill's scarred face broke into a broad grin.
"It's a girl!"
If the Healer had come back to tell them to be quiet, the Weasleys wouldn't have heard her: they clapped and cheered and roared their delight as they hugged Bill and each other.
"Can we see her?"
"Of course," said Bill, wiping his eyes. "Not everyone at once, I think – Fleur's knackered –"
"Ron, why don't you go and tell Harry and Hermione?" suggested Arthur. "Percy, you could send word to Charlie - and George, Ginny, you two might see about tea for everyone."
Grumbling slightly, they dispersed, and Bill led his parents along the corridor to Fleur's room.
She was sitting up in bed, holding the bundle of pink blankets in her arms, and although she looked absolutely worn out, she emanated that same silvery glow she'd had at her wedding.
"Mum, Dad – meet your granddaughter," said Bill, grinning.
"Oh," whispered Molly, a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Arthur, look!"
Fleur smiled at her mother-in-law. "Would you like to 'old 'er?"
Tears flooded down Molly's face as she cradled the baby close; Arthur blinked rapidly, peering down at the small, pink face.
"Does she have a name yet?" he asked, looking at Bill and Fleur, who exchanged glances.
"We were thinking per'aps – Victoire," said Fleur.
"Given the date," Bill added quietly. "We thought … well. It seemed appropriate."
"The date?" said Arthur. "But isn't it –" He glanced at his watch, and saw, with a painful jolt, that it was gone midnight. Fleur had gone into labour hours earlier on the previous day, but now it was -
"The second of May."
For several, long moments, no one said a word. Molly gazed at her granddaughter, the perfect, delicate features, remembering how she had held all seven of her children in her arms and wished she would never have to let them go.
The baby suddenly stirred, a small hand poking out of the blankets, the tiny nose wrinkling. She had Bill's nose, Molly thought. Of course, she would never be anything but beautiful, the most wonderful gift they could ever have been given.
"Victoire Weasley," she said aloud. Through her tears, she smiled at the others.
"It's - perfect."