Daughter
Disclaimer: All materials belong to J.K. Rowling.
The Weasley boys and their father crammed into a small waiting room, waiting. Only two hours earlier had Mrs. Weasley's water broken. Forty five minutes after that Mr. Weasley arrived home to find Mrs. Weasley in agony and the twins standing over her asking, "Mommy, why are you peeing on yourself?"
Mr. Weasley surrounded by his many sons awaited his next, Nathan Alexander Weasley. He would go on to do great things; quidditch captain, prefect and then head boy, and would be the youngest Minister of Magic. Ronald picked his nose and wiped them on the oblivious Percy.
Three hours later, there was still no sign of a doctor or Nathan; Mr. Weasley could feel a pit the size of England in his stomach, and growing. What ifs began to run through his head. What if I had gotten home on time? What if I have to choose between her and they baby? What if he doesn't like me?
In the delivery room, Mrs. Weasley was having somewhat larger problems, a watermelon sized problem. The baby was breech and seemed to hate the world it had never been in. Sweat was dripping off in buckets, no bathtubs. Damn that Arthur Weasley!
Finally there was a head and he began to move progressively faster; a chest, legs and she was done.
"Congratulations," someone said, "It's a girl!" Mrs. Weasley fainted, that poor little girl.
When Mr. Weasley came into see his new bundle of joy, he checked and asked himself a new question, "Was it really possible……………"
It was.
Mrs. Weasley had a very hard day by anyone's standards and began asking for some Gin. Mr. Weasley wasn't paying much attention and he heard Ginevra.
The end.