Harry was anxiously pacing the waiting room of Summer Springs Hospital. His mind was racing, as several, unbidden thoughts ran through his mind: Will I be a good father? What if I'm too harsh on them?
He was broken out of his reverie by a large, warm hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Ron looking at him sympathetically. Then, as if he read his mind—
"You'll be a good dad, Harry," he said simply.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"
Ron looked at him like he was mad. He recovered himself, then said with a small smile—
"Because you're already a dad. Remember Teddy? Ted, the unbelievably adorable 6-year-old with blue hair? The one who adores you so much?"
You're already a dad
Dad. Teddy's dad.
Harry's heart swelled with affection for his godson. He remembered the time when he'd called Harry 'Dada' with that toothy grin of his, Ted drawing a mustache on his face with the Wheezes' colour-changing, sparkly marker, him cheering for Ginny louder than anyone at every Harpies' match—
"Mr. Potter?"
Once again, he was startled out of his reminiscing by a nurse's voice, who was looking around for him. He jogged up to the nurse.
"Yeah, that's me. Is there—"
"No, there's nothing wrong. I was going to inform you that you have a healthy baby boy here," she said with a smile. "Congratulations."
His face broke into a wide grin.
"Thank you, thank you so much—"
He went into the room and was greeted with the sight of his wife, who was fast asleep already, their son snuggled up next to her. He creeped into the room as quietly as he could, and gently picked up his son.
His heart practically melted.
He was absolutely beautiful, perfect in every way. His face was pink all around, clashing with his vivid Weasley-red hair, and his hands and feet were tiny. He yawned adorably and opened a bright brown eye. Ginny's eyes, he thought.
Later in the day, as his friends and coworkers congratulated him on being a father for the first time, Harry didn't bother to correct them. In his heart, he knew that James Sirius Potter wasn't his first child, but rather, his second.
