Ron Weasley: The Burrow; November 15, 1999
He hated Malfoy. He hated Harry for still loving the two-timing ferret-faced bastard. He hated veelas. He hated whoever was stupid enough to make every single veela practically their mates' fateful slaves until the very bitter end. He hated Merlin or whatever was the higher power up there that decided it would be funny to make…this happen. And he especially hated the little bastard that was killing his best mate. Malfoy's spawn. His filthy…son that was growing inside Harry and taking his friend's energy, his strength, his magic for itself; the little spawn was already following in its daddy's footsteps.
But he was the only one that saw it for what it was.
A killer.
Harry…he was completely in love with the little bastard growing in his womb. Even now, his best mate was standing in front of a window, looking down at his stomach rounded with child with such a loving expression on his face that Ron felt sick. He was whispering words of love, of adoration, and of happiness to it that Ron was almost fooled into thinking Harry really was happy.
"My baby….my precious little one, mommy is here. I won't leave you; I will take care of you and love you with all of my heart. Does that sound nice? I bet you will look just like your daddy, so handsome. I just hope you won't look like me; that will be like asking for your life to be harder than it needs to be. Just promise me one thing, my precious. Look like your daddy, not like me, not like mommy. That's all I ask my little one, that's all…."
If that thing ended up looking like Malfoy then Ron would honestly not have any problems getting rid of it. If anything, the…baby should be stillborn and this whole affair could be forgotten. Though…
If it were to die at birth, the redhead had a feeling that Harry would die along with it. And no matter how much he hated the unborn spawn, if its death meant Harry's death too, then Ron could learn to just ignore the Malfoy lookalike with time. Besides…Harry really did look happy, glowing in the way only expecting mothers-to-be glowed with the strange happiness that came with carrying a child –someone of their own flesh and blood, someone that was family. Heaving another sigh, Ron quietly walked out of room, the sight of an adoring Harry already completely in love with the spawn of the one who left him broken-hearted.
He would look back later on that moment, and wonder where it all went wrong. It should have stayed that way, but it didn't. Things changed…and not always for the better.
St Mungo: December 24, 1999
He could still hear the first screams; the high-pitched yells of pain that had escaped Harry's throat as the first contractions hit his weaken body hard. Now, they were still just as loud and painful sounding, just not as raw as the first ones had been. It had looked, and sounded even worse than the Cruciatus Curse. And now here he was, waiting while his best mate was giving birth to a spawn that wasn't worth all the pain, all the sadness and joy that it brought to Harry.
It wasn't worth it!
The little bastard hadn't even breathed its first breath of air and it was already causing havoc and destruction to Harry, to him, to his entire family, to everyone that knew of its bloody existence. Medwizards were rushing into the room, while others came out, their white robes stained bright red with blood. Harry's blood.
Time passed, Hermione holding on tightly to his hand as her face became whiter with each minute. His mum was standing firm and tall, mouth set into a thin line as her face showed an understanding of what, exactly, was going on in that closed room. His dad was pacing, pacing like he did when it had been his mum in a room just like that, giving birth to all of the Weasley children. George was leaning ag –and then another scream burst through the air, cutting through Harry's screams like a knife through butter.
A wail.
A newborn baby's wail to be exact. Malfoy's spawn had arrived to grace the world with its presence. But then a different, more chilling sound grabbed Ron's attention.
"We're losing him! He's losing too much blood. He's bleeding out!"
That was all he needed to hear before he was on his feet and bursting through the doors, Hermione one step behind him. The sight that greeted him was forever burned into his mind.
Harry, the Savior of the Wizarding World, and Gryffindor Golden boy, was lying in a blood-soaked hospital bed, his face gaunt, pale, and tired, but still beautiful even while his jet black hair was stuck to his forehead by sweat. Cradled so lovingly in his shaking arms was a little bundle wrapped in a blue blanket, wisps of startling white-blood hair was all Ron could see of the little bastard, but that was more than enough for him.
Harry's faint whispers echoed loudly within the bleach-white room. "You're so beautiful, just like your daddy…such a shame you don't have his eyes, but that's okay…" Hugging the baby closer to his body, Harry looked straight at Ron before he spoke again, "His name is Colubellus, 'little serpent' in Latin…it suits him, Ron, don't you think?"
Looking at the tiny baby again, Harry's expression softened into one of complete love before he looked right back up at him, his pale, blood-stained face pleading for something Ron already knew he would grant, if only to ease the painful begging on his friend's face.
"Look after him okay, Ron? He's such a sweet little boy. Please, promise me, promise, me you will give him a good home and family…" Ron could only nod, the wild look in the dark emerald green eyes unsettled him in the way they gaze into him, as if searching for any deceit. His face losing the wild look, Harry hugged the child again, the love in his expression never fading as he said his last words to the baby he had carried inside him, the little being that he had birthed and fallen in love with even before it had been born.
"I'm sorry Colubellus, mommy won't be around to look after you, but never forget that I love you. I love you with all my heart, and even in death, I will always love you. I will look after you, in death too…love you…Colu…bell…us…"
It was only Ron's quick reflexes that saved the newborn from falling onto the cold tiled floor as Harry's arms fell limply onto the bed. And even though he had hated the baby when it was still unborn, as soon as Ron looked into Colubellus's eyes, he was a goner. A pair of eyes he knew so well stared back at him, eyes so green and bright that Ron had seen on only one other person and heard of on other.
He had Harry's eyes.
That particular shade of emerald green that could out shine the bright green of the killing curse; those were Lily's eyes, they were Harry's eyes, and now they were Colubellus's eyes. Harry's eyes in Malfoy's face, but they were still Harry's eyes. Ron couldn't hate the little baby that had Harry's eyes but looked like Malfoy; he couldn't. It would be like hating Harry himself.
"I wonder Colubellus…will you be just like your mum and grandmother? Will you share their fate? Will your green eyes see things that no one should, will you die so young? Or will you break the curse that took Harry and his mum? If only for Harry…I will make sure you don't end up like them. You will live to see your thirties, live to die of old age and not because of bloody fate! I promised Harry, and I will promise you Colubellus, you will live!"
Yeah…I got no excuse for where this thing came from. It's just an idea that I had been thinking about a lot lately so I decide, why not? I have a whole story worked out for this idea, but I picked out my favorite scene and this is what I got. Just tell me if you guys would like to read the whole story and I may make this one-shot into a full-fledged story! Remember, reviews feed my muse!
And yes, I had to make Draco a two-timing cheater for this to work. I'm sorry to any Draco fans, but it was for the greater good as Dumbledore would say.
P.S. If I did write out the entire story, all you Draco fans would love him for the most part, hate him when he makes the decision to abandon poor Harry, and then love him again once everything is out in the open.