A/N: A fic about Louis' birth and the chaos that ensues.

Board Game Challenge - #60 (Write about returning home)

If You Dare Challenge - #820 (Fire in your eyes)

Character Diversity Boot Camp - #19 (answer), Bill Weasley

Your Favorite House Boot Camp - #3 (disarm), Gryffindor

Conversation Starter Prompt Challenge - #37 (Write about a character having traditional views about something.)

Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge - #64 (Hostage Zero)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I set my bag down on the doorstep with an "oof," my shoulders immediately relieved of the weight. I haven't realized until now how sore the muscles on my right side became when I carried my workload on only one shoulder. My hands now free, I dig inside my pocket for my keys. I find the correct one and swiftly unlock it before removing a couple wards on the house so that I can enter. "Fleur, love?" I call out, my voice echoing through the house. "I'm home!"

Through her lack of reply, I assume she is asleep or upstairs where my voice does not quite reach. I hear a squeal and see something small and quick launch itself at me. "Daddy!" shrieks Victoire, and my eldest daughter wraps her little arms around my leg. "Daddy!"

I laugh and scoop her up into my arms as her high-pitched words collapse into giggles. "Hey, sweetheart! Where's your mummy, hm?"

"Bathroom," she replies simply before repeatedly asking me for ice cream.

Fleur usually gives Dominique baths around when I come home from work, so her reply makes sense. "Sure," I respond. "How long's Mummy been in the bathroom?"

"Too long," she groans, clinging to my neck. "Too, too long..."

"Where's your sister?"

"Bathroom," she said. "Daddy, can you play with me?"

"In a minute, love," I assure her, tapping her nose. "Let's go find Mummy, and then we'll play, okay?"

Victoire groaned. "But Daddy," she whines.

"It won't take long," I tell her. "Promise."

She lets out a tiny "humph" and presses her face into my shirt, her arms and legs a vice grip around me as I climb the stairs with her. When I reach the bathroom door, I knock sharply, shifting my little girl to one arm to do so. "Fleur?"

Nothing. Victoire begins to complain again, moaning, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, come on..."

I knock again. "Fleur, love, are you in there?" Again, nothing. A strange feeling grows in the pit of my stomach. I set Victoire down on the floor and listen intently to any sounds coming from the bathroom. I rattle the doorknob. The door is locked. "Fleur? Are you alright?"

My shoes are wet. I look down and find there to be water all over the floor. It's still spreading across the wood floor... It's swirled with scarlet; it's bloody water. Oh, Merlin, no— "Victoire, get downstairs now!" I growl. I don't want her to see anything that might be in here. Victoire bolts. I know that she thinks she's in trouble for something, but I can't worry about that now; the only thing that I can worry about is—I'm slamming my hand against the wood of the door and Victtoire is screaming at me and— "Fleur, open the door!" There's an unusual noise coming from in the bathroom and it's scaring me— "Fleur!" I cry.

I remember (the idiot I am) that I am a wizard and fumble for my wand, unlocking the door with a quick Alohomora. I frantically shove it open.

The sight that I see before me makes my heart stop in its tracks. Fleur is in the tub, her entire body beneath the top of the water, including her head. There's bubbles appearing above where her head is, and Dominique—where is my baby? Where is my child?

I'm screaming the both of their names but I can barely hear the words escape my mouth... I rush to the edge of the tub, and pull my wife up by the shoulders. There's so much blood everywhere; over the edge of the tub and staining the wall in the form of a weak handprint... "Oh, Merlin, oh, Merlin, what do I—what do I—" Dominique is there, motionless, eyes closed, under the water; she does not know how to swim; what infant would? I nearly drop Fleur and then I'm trying to keep them both of them above the water, and I'm cradling my child but she's not breathing— "Help me!" I've carried Dom out of the tub; Fleur is still under the water; I can't save them both... I look between to the two of them quickly and grip my wand, sending out a spell that tells of my emergency, I'm calling a Mediwizard or anyone, anyone at all—

They Apparate to me in a matter of seconds, and they automatically move forward, taking Dominique from me as I desperately try to do Muggle CPR on her; her heartbeat... "Oh, Merlin, please, oh, Merlin—"
They pull a dripping wet, naked Fleur out of the tub, not for a moment caring for her modesty (I don't care either, I just want her and Dom alive) and one Healer approaches me, her face like stone. "Sir, you need to come with me. We're taking your wife and child to St. Mun—"

"Are they alive?"

"Sir, we're still determining—"

"Tell me what happened!"

"Sir, we don't—"

"I want to know what the hell happened!" I shove her against the wall, and she raises her wand, disarmed me, and has said, "Stupefy!" before I can even do anything more...

"Reenervate."

My eyes snap open and I jerk awake the first thing on my mind being my family. "What hap—" I spot the Healer who I attacked sitting in front of me. "Where is Dominique? Where's Fleur? Did you get Vic—"

"William," she says. She's sitting in the chair across from me, her wand pointed at me. "I'm going to have to ask you to restrain yourself from speaking unless I ask you a direction question." Although her tone is polite, there is fire in her eyes.

It's then that I realize that I am bound to the chair I'm sitting in. I tense. "What's going on? Why am I—Where am I? Tell me what happened to Dominique, please! Is she—"

"I believe I told you to not speak." Her voice is so calm, yet ice cold.

"I want to know what happened to them!" One of the ropes snaps and then I can easily stand. A flicker of fear runs across her face. "Are they alive? What happened to—"

"Stupefy."

"Reenervate."

I'm up again and the bindings are tighter, making me unable to take a deep breath. My hands are tingling. "Where is my—"

"William, I believe I've already given you strict instructions not to speak." There are two strange things about the way she is speaking to me. One: she refers to me by my first name, even though I am at least twenty years older than her. Two: she calls me William, even though no one has called me that except my teachers at Hogwarts (and only once, because after that I corrected them and told them I went by Bill). That means that she doesn't know me and that she doesn't believe I deserve the respect of being referred to as 'Mr. Weasley.' "If you talk out of turn again, I will have to knock you out again."

The words are nearly bursting from my lips. Are Dominique and Fleur alive? Are they going to be okay? Where is Victoire? Can I see them? What happened to them? Fleur had been rounding six months pregnant... Oh, no, Merlin, please, what if our unborn child... Oh— "Please, tell me what happened—"

"Stupefy."

"Reenervate."

My head hurts. "I'm warning you, William, if you talk out of turn one more time, I'm going to have to use more physical means to control you."

This time, I know better than to talk back.

"Thank you. Now, can you tell me your full name?"

"William Arthur Weasley."

"And your mate's name?"

"Fleur Isabelle Weasley."

"Birthdate?"

"November 29th, 1970. What does this have to do with—"

"What did I say?" she hisses. "Stupefy."

"Reenervate."

My entire body is sore now, magic still buzzing in my head. I lift my head. "My name is Bill," I growl, and she knocks me out again with a "Stupefy."

"Reenervate."

I cough. I don't think these spells are meant to be used this...frequently. "Bill," she spits. "How long have you been a werewolf?"

Everything clicks. This is why she is treating me like this. This is why... "I'm not a werewolf," I answer.

"Don't lie to me, Bill," she says, twirling her wand. "How long?"

"I'm" —I cough again— "not lying, I—"

"Stupefy."

"Reenervate."

I don't think I have the strength to even move. My head hangs forward. My body is so weak, so tired... "Bill, I'm going to grant you a question so that you feel more obliged to tell me the truth. The Veritaserum's being used for Ministry interrogations around the country, so unfortunately its stock is running a bit low. Go ahead."

I bite my lip. "Are they alive?"

"Your mate and child?" I nod. "Yes."

Why is she referring to Fleur as my 'mate'? I am no werewolf. "She's not—Fleur's not my mate," I croak. "She's my wife."

The Healer smirks. "I know how you creatures work. You don't marry."

"No, I—"

"Stupefy."

"Reenervate."

There's a new voice in the room. "Merlin, Em, you really did a number on him. Are you sure this is okay?"

"Of course," she replies. "Werewolves don't feel pain or exhaustion like we do. You know that."

"Yeah, but... I mean, he looks bad."

"Don't tell me you feel sympathy for it."

She gulps. "Well, I mean—"

"Ella, you remember what that werewolf did to my little brother, don't you? Don't you?"

A soft, quiet reply. "Yes."

"He killed my little brother when he was only eight! Eight years old! And now this one's trying to pass off as human after nearly making a woman miscarry? Are you kidding me?"
"My wife—" I cough and blood splatters across my work pants. Except...there's already blood there, dried. Where did that blood come from? "She mis—she miscarried?"

"No, no, no," says the new woman, a bald woman with tattoos swirled over her skull and dark, slanted eyes. She kneels before me. "Sir, your wife is doing well." I can't even begin to express how happy her words make me. These are the words I've been waiting for since this whole thing began. "She recovered well from the accident, and your son" —my...my what?— "is doing well, but as you know, he was born extremely premature and is still under careful supervision. We're still trying to get him to breathe on his own."

"Son?" I choke out, and now I have enough strength to lift my head.

"Yes, your son. Louis, I believe?"

"I have" —I cough so badly that the force of it throws the chair forward an inch or so. "I have a son?"

"Yes, yes, your son," she repeats. "Oh, Merlin, Em..." She turns to the other Healer. "This isn't right, I'm telling you. You didn't tell him about the baby?"

"I didn't find it necessary to tell him. It would have only distressed him—"

"Any decent parent deserves to know about their child! I'm sorry, Em, but this is out of line." She stands up and reaches for her wand. "I can't let you do this. I—"

A flick of the Healer's wand, and the kind woman is on the ground, unconscious. "Sorry about that, Bill. Now, let's continue with our talk, shall we? Can you remind me when you got those scars?"

She traces the red lines littered across my face with her wand. I jerk my head away, but I don't have enough energy to keep it up for long. "Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts," I tell her in one breath. "Night Albus Dumbledore died."

"And who gave them to you?"

"Greyback."

The quill and notebook hovering in the air beside her are scribbling down everything I say. "And Greyback is a werewolf, yes?" I move my head slightly to indicate my answer. "So you've been a werewolf for how long?"

"Not," I remind her. "Not a werewolf."

I go into a coughing fit that racks me so harshly that spots appear before my eyes. When I'm done, I meet the Healer's angry gaze. "Don't lie to me."

"I-I'm not—"

"Stupefy!"

"Reenervate."

I can barely breathe at all. My chest feels tight and scratchy, and my throat has tightened to the size of a drinking straw. I gasp for air. My eyes burn. "Bill, since you seem to be in a state of denial about your lycanthropy, would you like to tell me about what happened to your wife?"

My breath is loud and raspy. "Came...home. From...work. She...in...bathroom...with...Dom." Dizzy, I take in another breath, my lungs working overtime to do one simple task. "Door...locked. Blood...water...everywhere. Opened...and...she...she...she..." I start hacking, unable to speak. Something's caught in my throat. My body heaves and rasps and heaves until I spit out a clump of blood and mucus onto my lap. "Was...seizing. Baby...drowned. Tried...to wake. Didn't...work. Called...Healers. Then...here."

"Don't lie to me. What did you do to your wife?"

"I..don't..." The next cough racks me so hard that my head flares with pain and I black out for a couple seconds.

Something slams into the side of my head. "Hey! Answer the question."

"Nothing...didn't..."

"Did you abuse your wife?"

"No!" I manage to say that with a bit more volume than my other answers. "Never..."

"What did you do to her to cause distress to the fetus?"

"Didn't...can't..."

"Can't what?"

"Breathe..." I gasp and then my chest feels so tight and pained that I double over, nearly passing out as I try to take in my next breath. "Please..."

"Have you had any times of cognitive absence during her pregnancy?" Not knowing what she means, I just slump in my chair, my skull hitting the back. "Sorry, I forget that you creatures tend to stay uneducated. Have you had any lycanthropy-induced blackouts?"

"No..." I croak. "Please..." My every breath can be heard throughout the room; it's so much of a struggle to just take in a little oxygen...

"I don't want to hear your whining," she snaps, and then, as always: "Stupefy."

"Reenervate."

I can't move. I can barely breathe; blood drips from the corner of my mouth from the last time I coughed. The magical effects of the repeated, constant use of the Stunning Spell and its countercurse have now taken its toll. When the Healer asks me a question, I can barely hear it. When I don't respond, she hits me. The pain of a strike across my cheek is actually a relief, for it distracts from the pain in my throat, chest, and head. "Are you ready to behave?" she asks me.

"My...daughter..." I groan, and I don't even know where I found the ability to speak. "My...son. Show...me..."

And then I can't breathe anymore, and my eyes go wide.

A/N: Stay tuned for the next chapter! Please follow, favorite, and review!