Chapter Sixteen:

"She's so beautiful," Hermione cooed, hanging over her boyfriend's shoulder staring at the pink wrapped bundle he held.

Harry smiled proudly.

His friends had turned up at the insanely early hour of six that morning. But that was okay. Harry had woken up at least two hours earlier when his daughter had started to fret. Madam Pomfery had shown him how to hold her and feed her. Once she had been satisfied he could cope, she returned to her bed, admonishing him to call her if there was the slightest thing wrong.

Hunger satiated and duly burped, Harry's daughter soon fell asleep again, and Harry was more than content to watch her. An hour and half later, he was disturbed by not-so-quiet tip-topping and very loud whispering.

"Where is she?"

"There's the crib…"

There was a concerted shuffling of feet.

"It's empty."

"Where's Harry then?"

"In the room at the back."

"She's probably with him."

"Let's go then."

Something scraped heavily across the floor and a male voice cursed.

"Shhhh! You'll wake someone up!"

"I didn't mean to. My robe got caught."

"Honestly, Ron! Anybody'd think yo-"

"Both of you shut up. Unless you want Madam Pomfery in here breathing down our necks?"

There was a short silence, followed by a "thank you" and then an almost inaudible "bloody Slytherins", a thump, an "OW!" and another "Honestly, Ron!"

When their heads appeared around the door jamb, Harry was smirking at them. With chagrined little smiles, they filed into the room. Their expressions soon changed when they saw the little pink bundled tucked carefully at Harry's side.

The five of them had been there ever since, the girls quizzing him on the birth, and the guys shuddering at the descriptions, Dean in particular. When his daughter had woken up half an hour ago, he'd allowed Ron to feed her. Hermione then volunteered to change her and, with much input from Blaise, managed to get her new nappy properly folded and secured. Since then, she'd been passed from one to another, and Harry hadn't had the chance to hold her since she'd woken up. Not that he minded overly.

"Okay," Dean held out his arms for her, gesturing imperiously, "You've had her for long enough, Draco. It's my turn."

For a moment, Draco looked as though he was going to refuse, but then he sighed. "Just don't drop her," he hissed as he carefully transferred her into Dean's embrace. Dean simply rolled his eyes and moved to lean against the bed, next to Harry.

"Hello darling," he cooed, "I'm your Uncle Dean." The little girl stared hazily up at him and slowly blinked. Dean turned his attention to Harry.

"When will you be able to leave the infirmary?"

Harry shrugged and went to answer, but at that moment the door opened to admit Professor Dumbledore and the House Heads. Ron and Blaise, who had been leaning against the wall, shuffled out of the way as Professor Snape stalked past them towards the corner. Professors McGonagall and Sprout stopped at the foot of the bed, and Professor Flitwick hurried over to peer at the bundle in Dean's arms.

Professor Dumbledore smiled benevolently at the occupants of the room, his gaze coming to rest last on Harry. "Ah Harry. How are you this morning?" Without waiting for an answer, his gaze moved on, "And this must be our newest resident. May I?"

At Harry's nod, Dumbledore pulled back a fold of blanket that had been obscuring the baby's face. His smile broadened and he twinkled, "she is indeed perfect. You must be very proud of her." Dumbledore smiled into Harry's eyes. His gaze darted off to the side and he straightened.

"But delightful as it is to meet your little girl, I must admit that was not our official reason in visiting you this morning. We," he included the other professors in his gesture, "are here to help you prepare of the Naming Ceremony, and answer any last minute questions you might have."

Harry sat up straight and crossed his arms, a little mutinously, over his chest. He'd come to this decision sometime early this morning and, although he knew it wasn't rational, he was sticking to it.

"I'm not going to do a Naming Ceremony."

For at least twenty seconds, there was silence in the room. Then, almost simultaneously, Harry's friends got their voices back, and began demanding explanations and telling him he was an idiot. Dumbledore's quiet voice cut through the babble.

"It is getting late," he said slowly, "The house elves will be clearing away breakfast soon. It is a long time until lunch."

Ron, Draco, Hermione, Blaise and Dean took his mildly worded suggestion for the order it was. With apologetic glances they began to file out of the room. Dean turned to hand Harry his daughter, but Harry stopped him with a hand on his arm. He wasn't too much of a Gryffindor to admit he needed moral support. Dean caught the plea in his eyes. He nodded and perched himself on the edge of the bed.

From the corner, Professor Snape snarled, "You were told you leave, Thomas."

Harry glared at him, "He was not. Besides, I want him here."

Dumbledore forestalled Snape's retort, "If you wish him to remain, Harry, that's quite alright.'

He settled himself on the end of Harry's bed, reaching a hand out between himself and Harry, half in supplication, half for support.

"Now Harry, I'm not sure that anyone explained the importance of the Naming Ceremony to you. It is vital that a child be named as soon-"

"I do know, sir," Harry interrupted. "Hermione made me read an entire book on it."

There was a dark growl from the corner, "Then what imbecilic conceit prompts you to put your spawn 's life in danger, Potter? Or is this just another bid for attention, this time at the expense of your progeny."

Harry snarled and scrabbled on the bedside table for his wand, "Don't you ever refer to my daughter as spawn, you hypocritical bastard! You have no right to judge me or to question my reasons! You just -"

Dumbledore gently pressed Harry's wand hand down on to the bed. "Professor Snape did not mean to insult your daughter or yourself, Harry. He is simply concerned about the welfare of this beautiful little girl." - Harry couldn't hold in a snort at that - "But he asks a valid question.

"Harry, if you understand the importance of the ceremony, why are you so set against it?"

Harry refused to meet anyone's eye as he plucked at the bedspread.

"I just don't think she'd be in that much danger. I mean, Voldemort's out of the picture, so there's no danger from him. And Hogwarts is heavily warded anyway, and there's even more wards on my rooms. Besides, she'll never be alone with anyone I don't trust implicitly."

Professor McGonagall broke the short silence, "Harry, even supposing you were correct - even supposing she'd be in no danger - you can't leave her without a name."

"I wouldn't!" Harry insisted, "It'd just be until…"

"Until what, Harry?" his house head asked kindly.

"Until her father acknowledges her," Harry met his professor's gaze challengingly. He should have been surprised to see understanding there, but he wasn't: after all, she had been there for the entire birth.

"Harry?" Dean asked hesitantly, "I thought you didn't want Jason to have anything to do with her."

Harry blinked. He turned to his friend and reached out to touch his daughter's head, "It was him that wanted nothing to do with us. Who am I to disagree? I just want him to acknowledge that she exists."

"But Harry," Professor Flitwick squeaked, speaking up for the first time, "surely the Naming Ceremony shouldn't rely on whether or not this Jason Phillips will acknowledge his daughter. After all, he is a muggle. He couldn't possibly understand the importance of the Ceremony."

"Even so, he'll know that you can't leave a child un-named. I only want him to choose that."

"The famous Potter arrogance strikes again. Don't tell me: you never bothered to choose a name."

Harry ignored Snape's sneering tone. He took his daughter from Dean and cradled her against his chest. It was to her he addressed his words.

"No, I have a name all picked out for you, don't I, my darling? But," he turned his head slightly, glancing in Snape's direction, "I'll have plenty of chances to give her things. I just thought it would be nice if she had something other than a blanket from her other father. Something to convince her it wasn't her fault he didn't want her."

Harry didn't give anyone a chance to react. He settled his daughter on the bed beside him and turned his back on the room. "I think I'd like to be alone now."

Dumbledore patted his foot and stood up, "I'll send Madam Pomfery in later with some breakfast for you."

Dean squeezed his shoulder and stood up too. There was a general shuffling of feet in the direction of the door and a moment later it closed. Harry didn't relax though. There was still someone in the room with him.

"Potter, you're a fool. You are putting your daughter at risk with this idiotic stunt of yours."

Harry gritted his teeth, "Get out Snape. I have nothing to say to you until you have a name to give her."

"Don't be such a drama queen, you juvenile little troglodyte."

Harry closed his eyes, "Get out Se- Snape."

There was a sharp silence. Then, with a snap of his cloak, Snape whirled and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him. The sound startled the little girl and she started to grizzle. Harry dropped a kiss on her forehead. He rubbed her back soothingly, "Don't you worry about him, baby. He's just a heartless bastard."

"'Okay'? Just… 'okay'?"

Harry peered suspiciously at his godfather as the man leant over the cradle, admiring his granddaughter. Sirius cooed at her and glanced at Harry, asking permission to pick her up. Harry nodded shortly, "Siri? Aren't you going to say anything?"

Sirius sighed and, cradling his precious bundle close, he settled himself in the rocking chair. "What do you want me to say, Harry? Or rather, what do you expect me to say?"

Harry shrugged and looked away. He was perched on the wide window ledge in his daughter's nursery. She was three days old now, and already Harry couldn't imagine life without her. (Sleep was also fast becoming a dim memory.) Today was the first time Sirius had met her, the first time he'd been able to safely slip into Hogwarts. Harry had just told him that he'd decided not to name his daughter just yet. All Sirius had said was 'okay'."

"I thought you'd call me a bloody idiot, and tell me I was foolishly risking her safety. That I was being selfish and melodramatic."

Sirius looked up sharply, "Who told you that?"

Harry refused to meet his eye. "Nobody. Everybody."

Sirius gazed at him shrewdly for a long moment before dismissing Harry's ambiguous answer. "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks anyway. She's your daughter, Harry. If you feel you want to wait before going through with the naming ceremony, than that's what you should do."

"You really think that?"

"Sure! Besides, I don't see how she could possibly be in any danger. Voldemort's dead -" Sirius paused and cocked his head "- or as good as anyway. And there's few places in Britain that are safer than Hogwarts."

"So you think I'm doing the right thing?" Harry cringed inwardly, hoping Sirius didn't think he sounded to pathetically in need of reassurance.

"I'm not a father Harry. I can't answer that conclusively. All I can tell you is I think it was good of you to inform this Jason bloke of his daughter's birth... Even if he is a worthless crock of shit with commitment issues that doesn't know a good thing when it lands in his lap." The last was said under his breath and Harry decided to pretend he hadn't heard.

"Besides," Sirius continued in a normal tone, "You weren't named until you were a week old, and there's nothing wrong with you, now is there?"

"What?"

"Yep. Lily refused to go through with the ceremony when you were born. Said that the name they had picked out for a boy was all wrong for you."

"What was it?"

"Charlemagne." Sirius smirked when Harry spluttered. "That was pretty much my reaction too. Good thing Lily changed her mind. It just doesn't have the same ring to it: 'Charlemagne Potter, the Boy Who Lived'."

Harry was spluttering again, this time with laughter.