Ron Weasley had had a very busy morning. He'd gotten to play with his brother Percy's new building block set, and he'd found four Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans stuffed in the couch (jalapeno, carrots, apple, and mocha). Normally, a morning in the Weasley house entailed chaos, disorder and much hiding from his older siblings. This morning, however, had been very strange. His mother, who was big with the new baby, was talking in hushed whispers with several other witches. Crawling over, curious to hear what was engrossing them so, he managed to hear something about the Potters, you-know-who, and other serious things. Before long, his mother spotted him sitting, sucking his thumb, and trying to look innocent. She heaved herself up from her chair and lifted him. "Come now, Ronald," she cooed, tickling his stomach. "Upstairs with you. Go on and play with your siblings." She brought him upstairs and deposited him in front of Bill and Charlie's room, waddling back downstairs. Ron peeked his tiny head into the door, which was opened a small crack.
"My Ma says he's gone for good," a young girl with vibrant yellow hair said from where she sat on the floor. "Says we don't have to worry anymore." Charlie, his eldest brother nodded. "I overheard them say that a baby defeated him. A baby, can you believe it?" he laughed.
Ron, of course, was very insulted by this.
The littlest Weasley decided he had heard enough, and crawled onward. Percy's room was, as always, very quiet, so he shuffled his way over to that room. The door was open, and he made his way in. Percy was on the floor on his stomach, his legs waving in the air as he was very engrossed in a book on the floor. "Hullo Ron," he said, rising and coming to his brother. He took his hand and helped him walk to the frog tank once again, knowing this was one of his youngest brother's favorite things to do. Ron cackled and leaned forward, his nose resting against the cool glass, his breath causing a fog it. He tapped loudly on the glass.
"Move fwog, move!" he shouted.
"Ron, stop it!" Percy shouted. "You'll scare them!" Indeed, the frogs had begun emitting a high pitched squeal and the smell of old garlic. "Go bother the Twins for a little." Ron soon found himself sitting outside Percy's room, the door shut soundly. He crawled back past Bill and Charlie's room and saw they were talking with a different girl, this time her hair was bright blue. He crawled into the room and sat just inside, wanting to be a part of the conversation. The girl with the blue hair cooed, her hair turning a shocking shade of bubblegum pink. "Your little brother is so adorable!" she smiled at the older Weasley's and lifted Ron up. Ron was fascinated by the girl. Her hair had turned a light blue color. He reached his grubby hands up and grabbed a chunk of her hair, tugging hard. He supposed this was the way to get the color to change.
Later, when he found himself sitting outside the shut door to his older brothers' room, he supposed this had not been the best idea.
Crawling again, he passed the stairwell, pausing to listen. The conversation had shifted to the new baby. He heard his mother say she hoped it was a girl, as the other witches cooed as well. "Imagine that, six boys and not one girl!" one witch cried.
"I know!" Molly laughed. "I so do crave a daughter… but we will be happy if the child is healthy and whole, with ten fingers and ten toes."
"Little Nymphadora is enough for us," the woman with raven black hair laughed. "She's a nightmare on the playground, honestly… twice I've nearly gotten home with the wrong children. Trust me, Molly, one girl will be plenty for you."
There was a moment of awkward silence.
"Lily and James," Ron's mother breathed, clearly on the verge of tears.
"I know, Molly, I know... it's devastating," an older witch said. "But their son survived, and he saved us all! He'll go on to do great things, you mark me now."
"Where will he stay?"
"Muggles," the older witch sighed. "They reckon it's best for little Harry to stay out of the limelight for a little."
"Muggles!" Ron parroted. "Harry!"
No one downstairs seemed to hear him, but he heard a creak down the hall, and turned to see his brothers, the twins staring at him. "Wed! Gwog!" he squeaked, holding his arms out. The twins looked at each other, then at Ron, and came to his side. His older brothers were only a few years older than him, and they were a bit behind in talking, though they had their own language which they used to converse with each other. Strangely enough, what they lacked in verbal skills, they made up for in mischief. They walked, half dragging to their playroom.
The first thing Ron noticed was a large tower the twins had built out of wooden blocks, which had been clearly well used through the years. The towered swayed ominously, though remained upright, which seemed impossible.
"Haw-wy… Muggles, baby!" Ron squawked at them, which he did his best to make sound like a plea. He did not want to climb the tower, which he was sure the twins would make him do. The twins looked at him, then each other, again. Ron deftly reached into his diaper and pulled out a wrapped chocolate frog. He brandished it at the twins. This, they understood.
With two grunts, the twins took the chocolate frog from him. George (or was it Fred?) seemed to consider him for a moment, then with a grimace, he went and fetched his broomstick. He held it out for Ron. The boy squealed, mounted it, and was off with a shriek.
Molly heard the thumping and pounding from downstairs, as did the other witches. They set their teacups down, (they had been in the middle of toasting little Harry) and stood. Suddenly, Ron came careening down the stairs, screaming, both hands on the broomstick. Luckily Molly, the ever-prepared mother, had cast a floating charm, and Ron, instead of landing face first at the bottom of the stairs, hovered toward his mother, and landed at her feet, smiling up at her. She looked down, her heart pounding, but relief clear on her face. She suddenly gasped.
"Andromeda! Fetch Arthur!" she cried, grabbing her stomach. "It's time!"
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The Weasley boys huddled together in the living room, Molly's occasional cries floating down to them from the stairway. Fred and George were huddled together, playing a game of their own invention, and babbling to each other. Percy was drawing a get-well-soon card for his mother, while Charlie, Bill, and Tonks sat together, looking nervous. Ron was perched on Tonks' lap, and the girl seemed to forgive him for his earlier hair tugging. He clapped at her, and she distractedly changed her hair color for him. He giggled up at her, and clapped again.
Tonks was happy to oblige, after all, Ron would be frightened if he knew what was happening upstairs. Wizard births were unlike Muggle births, her mother had told her. It hurt a lot, Tonks knew that much, but Andromeda had also told her that when a witch was in such pain, there was no controlling her magic. That was probably the explanation for the occasional bangs and explosions accompanying Molly's cries.
After several cycles of the rainbow on Tonk's hair, Molly's cries were replaced by a thin wailing. All of the Weasleys looked up the stairs, as their harried looking father tumbled down them. Tonks giggled to see his hair was slightly singed, and Molly had apparently hexed his ears so they were wiggling wildly.
"It's a girl!" he laughed.
There was much hooting and hollering from the Weasleys, but the celebration died quickly. It was very late. With Bill's help, Arthur tucked in all his children. Nymphadora curled up on the floor in Bill and Charlie's room, her hair a shocking red color. Arthur laughed as he shut the door. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought he had two daughters. Tiptoeing into the room where an exhausted Molly lay, Arthur came right to her side. He happily paid the midwife, who glared at him and held her wrist (Molly had hit her with quite a potent stinging hex), and the midwife went on her way. In fact, Andromeda, who had volunteered to stay the night and help out with the children, seemed to be the only one who escaped unscathed. Silently thanking her skilled shield charm, Andromeda shut the door, leaving the now complete Weasley family alone.
"A girl," Molly whispered, as Arthur climbed into bed next to her.
"A girl," Arthur nodded. As he stared down at the sleeping, red haired baby before him, Arthur felt his heart melt. This may have been the day when The Boy Who Lived survived, but for Arthur, all he could think about was this little girl.