Harry paced back and forth around the waiting room of St Mungo's Hospital. He was getting impatient. If he had to wait a second longer he felt he might burst with the agony that was coursing through his body. But that was silly – it was Ginny who was going through most of the agony right now. He let out a frustrated breath and slumped back onto the uncomfortable benches that St. Mungo's provided in the waiting rooms. Slumping was a mistake as he slammed his back against the hard back of the bench. Harry cried out in pain and rubbed his back, soothing the area that he was sure would have a bruise the next morning.
Giving up on trying to stop the inevitable, Harry rested his head in his hands and waited. After only a second or two he got back on his feet and began to pace again. He thought that if he paced enough, then Ginny would be alright – no, more than alright- she would be better than ever before. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he had done this to his wife. Even though he knew that it was stupid, he couldn't get rid of the nagging thoughts in his head. Had Ginny really wanted this? Had she acquiesced just to stop him nagging? Had he been too pushy? He threw each question away like they were corrosive poison. No, of course not. Ginny had wanted this. Hadn't she?
Just at that moment, a door opened and a male Healer walked through looking particularly haggard, shoulders slightly stooped. Harry snapped his head up and he asked a little too forcefully than intended "Well?"
"If you would just listen for a minute or two, Mr Potter," the Healer gestured for Harry to sit on one of the benches, clearly wanting to sit down as well, but he didn't. Harry hurriedly sat down.
"Mr Potter, you must understand that your wife is in a very fragile condition at the moment. This has been a hard birth for everyone involved, and I have some bad news for you before you go in." Harry began to sweat, his breathing was uneven and he couldn't concentrate. What was wrong? Was she dying? What was happening?
In a weak voice he asked, "Is the baby dead?" Resigned to the worst, Harry put his head in his hands for the umpteenth time and awaited the verdict.
"No Mr Potter. The baby is definitely not dead. Both girls are doing very well; they just need a little rest, is all."
Harry looked up.
"Both girls?" he asked. "It's a girl?" he laughed incredulously, his heart lifting at the news that both were well.
"Yes, it's a girl. But the bad news is that your wife will not have any other children. She was lucky to have this child, and she will not be as lucky the next time. Not that there will be, I hope, Mr Potter? We have given birth to every child in your extensive family tree, and I do believe if there are any more, we shall have used up all means of recording the births…" Harry laughed in a very high-pitched voice, quite unlike himself. The Healer smiled wearily, and then rubbed his eyes sleepily.
"Is it alright… if I see her now? Can I see both of the girls? I…" Harry felt weak and soft inside, from both relief and the thought that he had a new-born daughter.
"Yes, yes, if you would just follow me." The Healer turned, opened the door and led the way.
Harry sat there on the edge of the hospital bed , gently stroking his wife's hair with his thumb, and staring in wonder at the tiny thing in the crook of his other arm.
"She's gorgeous, Ginny. She's got your hair, too. We're going to need a name now."
"I was thinking about that," Ginny replied softly. "what about Lily?"
"No, Ginny, we've already got James after my Dad…" Harry looked at his wife. She had that look again… the one that said "Don't argue. It's happening whether you like it or not."
Ginny continued, "No, I've thought about it for a while now, and seeing as she has my hair and your mother's hair, there's no denying it's the right name for her-" Ginny cut off into a round of coughs. Harry hugged her and soothed her, stopping the coughing.
"Alright then. Lily it is. James and Albus are going to love her, aren't they?"
"Yes, " Ginny smiled "She'll be just like me when I was younger, I think. The perfect trouble-maker. The perfect daughter." At that precise moment, Lily snuffled and laughed the tiniest laugh, as if already planning exactly what trouble she was going to cause in the years to come…