A/N: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N 2: Prompt: Waiting, watching the clock, anxiously
Bill paced the hallway. His eyes kept darting to the clock.
How long has it been? How much longer? He kept asking himself. It had started near midnight. Fleur's screams had awoken him from a strange dream. Apparating the pair to St. Mungo's had only taken a second.
He resumed pacing. His family hadn't arrived yet. He wondered if the quickly penned owl had even reached them. Several voices echoed from down the hallway. He was sure he recognized at least one of them.
"How is she?" his father asked placing a hand on his shoulder.
"It's been nearly three hours. I don't know," Bill admitted sinking into one of the chairs lining the hallway.
"You took longer," his mother stated. "And Percy took even longer than you."
"Always knew he was a prat," George joked. Bill gave him a weak smile.
"Mr. Weasley?" a mediwitch asked. Bill stood. "You're wife is asking for you." Bill followed her into the room.
Fleur lay on the bed, her silvery hair plastered against her face.
"Bill, meet your daughter, Victorie Weasley!"
