Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters, just an ability to go from fluff to facepalm in less than 30 seconds.
"I can't do this!"
Theodore Nott was completely freaking out. He had started pacing back and forth down the passage about ten minutes ago, only pausing temporarily in front of his friends to exclaim at them.
"It's a little too late for that, 'Dork," muttered his first friend. Blaise Zabini was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching Theodore pace.
Theodore shot a mini-glare at the Italian and continued his pacing. Back, forth, back, forth, until-
THWACK!
Something hard collided with his face, the force of it knocking his top half backwards while his legs slipped out from underneath him, successfully making him fall to the ground- one of those moves seen specifically in Muggle comedies.
A loud burst of laughter came from the general direction of Blaise, along with something that might've been an attempt at a sentence. It was impossible to tell.
Theodore groaned and sat up. His glasses had come off in the fall and probably lay broken somewhere. His nose, which had taken most of the hit, hurt like hell.
"Good. You've stopped."
He looked up to see who had spoken and could vaguely make out the outline of his second friend adjusting the sleeves of his shirt, as if he had just...
"What the hell, Goldstein?" Theodore spat, outraged. This only caused Blaise to burst into more hysterical laughter from behind him.
"You were irritating me. Here," Anthony said, passing Theodore his glasses. He took them and put them on quickly. Anthony smirked, sure that Theodore was about to come up with some amazing insult, when-
"Susan's here with Hannah, right?"
The question caught him off guard. "Uh, yes...?"
"Good..." Theodore said, staring up at the ex-Ravenclaw silently for a few seconds before launching himself bodily at his legs, bringing him down to the ground too.
"What the- gerroff me, idi-" His sentence was interrupted by a fist colliding with the side of his mouth. "Seriously, No-"
"Dogpile!" Blaise announced happily, flinging himself on top of the other two, making them both groan at the extra weight.
"Zabini, no!"
"Gerroff!
"I wanna have fun too!"
"You're heavy!"
"Ow, my spleen!"
"OI!" A fourth voice yelled, much louder than the others. Immediately Blaise climbed off of them and went to go cower against a wall, leaving Anthony and Theodore to lie clutching various parts of their bodies. "What the hell's going on here?"
"S-S-Susan, I-I can explain-"
"Shut up, Blaise." Susan Bones looked absolutely outraged. Her hair was wild, as if she'd been in the fight too, and her expression made even Theodore shrink. Noticing that, she walked over to him and grabbed him by the tie, pulling him up- he had to scramble to his feet so that she didn't strangle him- so that they were face-to-face.
Theodore gulped, not sure about what was coming next. Blaise was still cowering uselessly, and Anthony was now crouched against the wall. The growing feeling of suffocation brought him back to the immediate threat.
"You. Your wife has just had a freaking baby, and you're out here fighting? The hell are you? Eight? Now, get your skinny butt in there right now or I willkill you," she growled, yanking him towards the door and letting go. He stumbled a bit before regaining his balance and, mustering up what little dignity he had left, walked through the door. He closed it just as Susan rounded on the others ("And you two! I thought you were supposed to be smart, Goldstein! And don't even get me started on you, Blaise!") Glad that he had escaped the yelling, Theodore turned around to find a rather surprised-looking Hannah lying in a bed at the opposite side of the room, holding a bundle of blankets.
"Oh, hello. I didn't think you were coming. Are you- oh my goodness, you're bleeding!"
Indeed he was. It seemed that Anthony had whacked him harder than he'd thought. Hastily he wiped the blood away from his nose with his sleeve and walked towards Hannah. "It's nothing."
She narrowed her eyes. "What happened?"
"Goldstein," he said simply, turning his focus to the little bundle of blankets Hannah was holding.
Following his gaze, she smiled. "They wanted to take him away at first so I could rest, but I kicked up a fuss and they let him stay. After all, I've been carrying him for nine months. The least they can do is give me nine minutes with him!" She laughed softly, turning to look at the baby. "Oh, that reminds me," she said suddenly, looking up at Theodore, "I thought you weren't coming, and they needed a name, so..." Carefully she held up the bundle and equally carefully he took it. "Meet Oliver."
If Theodore thought he was happy before, then now he must have been elated. Oliver was small and warm and fast asleep. Currently he was wrapped up tightly, so all Theodore could see was his face and one tiny hand that poked out of the blanket. All he could do was stare at the child- no, hischild- as a wide grin graced his features. He looked at Hannah, who was also smiling, and said softly, "He's perfect."
He was perfect, Hannah was perfect, life was perfect. Everything was peaceful between the three of them, until-
"BLAISE ZABINI, YOU IDIOT, WHATDID YOU JUST SAY?!"
... Alright, so maybe things weren't exactly peaceful. But Theodore didn't care. He was with his family, and at that moment, he was happy. Life was good.