After The War (Romione & Hinny fan fiction)

A Bunch of Mischief-Makers

Victiore Weasley was the most beautiful baby St Mungo had seen in years, Healer Hackett said proudly when she opened the door of the waiting room to let an exaggerated number of Weasleys inside the birthing room. Ginny and Harry exchanged a thrilled smile before stepping in.
Harry clutched little Teddy's hand in his. His eyes travelled the length of the comfortable room they were in.
It was quite a scene.
Mrs Weasley and Mrs Delacour were pacing restlessly around Fleur's bed, their cheeks red and eyes watery as they hugged each other and tried to calm down the mixed up emotions of that evening: worry, adrenaline, fear and happiness.
Fleur looked exhausted but happy. At her side, still holding her hand, was Bill. He was positively beaming as he looked at his newborn baby whose cries filled the room.
As soon as Mrs Weasley saw them enter she ran to hug Mr Weasley and kiss on the forehead every relative at reach.
"She's really beautiful!" said Hermione excitedly as Bill held his daughter in his arms for them to see.
"Can I hold her?" asks Gabrielle, her eyes glistening. She was fifteen by now, and though Harry had never seen Fleur at that age it was easy to imagine her as the copy of her sister. Now that Bill had handed her her baby niece carefully, Harry could see Victoire's hair was of Gabrielle's exact shade of silver-blond. Her eyes were deep blue and her pink jaw marked with three aligned frekles, visible only if you looked carefully enough.
Eventually, the Weasleys left and went back to their respective lives. Mrs Weasley volunteered to host the Delacours for as long as they liked to be around their older daughter.
"You'll have a new friend to play with, Teddy!" Ginny said to the two-year-old boy every time Victiore was mentioned. Teddy grinned and turned his attention to the coloured steam coming out of Harry's wand, giggling.

***

If one person to play with wasn't enough, not even two months after little Victoire's birth another Weasley was delivered.
Harry, Ron and Hermione had all been in their respective offices when the news broke. A creature that Harry initially mistook for a thestral, in the misty-blue bright light of a patronus, arrived in the training room and dozens of heads tuned to stare at the strange creature that Harry now recognized as a young Norvegian Ridgeback. Harry and Ron stared in amazement as the dragon trotted towards them, his scales lucid and long wings flapping at his sides. When he finally stopped and turned his head to Harry, it spoke with George's voice
"We are at St Mungo Hospital, the baby is on his or her way. Mom suggests you 'drop anything you're doing come immediately.'"
Harry didn't wait for the dragon to disappear. Well aware of everyone's eyes on his back - and not really caring either - he walked out of the room without saying a thing, Ron on his heels. As soon as the door shut behind them they were running. They found Hermione hurriedly walking towards the Apparition spots in the Ministry.
"Hermione!" Ron said, suddenly running faster, "Did you see the patronus?"
Hermione turned so quickly she nearly bumped into them.
"Oh, sorry." she collected a file that had slipped out of her bag in the rush. "Thank Merlin you're here!" she sighed in relief and threw her arms around Ron's neck. Harry forced himself not to roll his eyes as Hermione pressed her mouth to Ron's.
"Oi. Don't you think we should go --"
Hermione pulled away and fixed her hair, her breath heavy. "Right. Who'd you reckon was the patronus from?"
"George." said Harry.
Ron shook his head. "George's is a magpie."
"I wonder why he didn't send his." Hermione said without thinking.
Ron opened his mouth to reply, then closed it.
"Oh." said Hermione, her cheeks blushing furiously, "Sorry, I wasn't really thinking when I said it. I'm stupid. Sorry."
Finally, they arrived in the place where many gilded fireplaces were set into the wooden wall and Hermione stopped apologizing. Harry, Ron and Hermione got into the first fireplaces they could reach and disappeared through the emerald green flames with a soft whoosh.

They didn't know the room Angelina was in, but Ron refused to ask the Welcome Witch because a giraffe-long queue of people with the strangest sympthoms were waiting in line.
"We'll be here all night just to find out what the number of the room is!" he protested.
"Oh, very well then, Ronald." Hermione said "Now you help us find the right room."
"But there are hundreds!" said Harry, eyeing the signs on the hospital rooms they passed by. "How are we supposed to know which is the right one?" he dodged an elderly woman pushing a trolley, a kneazle holding onto her calf with its claws. Hermione looked like she wanted to stop and help the poor woman, but Harry grabbed her sleeve and forced her to keep walking. After minutes of fruitless research and running non-stop around a magical hospital dodging old ladies and Healers in light green and gold robes, Harry began to think it would've been better for at least one of them to wait in line with the other visitors and sick people.
"Wait." said Hermione, stopping so suddenly Harry nearly bumped against her. "We could use a Patronus."
Harry saw Ron's lips curve into a proud smile, "That's a brilliant idea!" he marveled, but Hermione wasn't listening. She had extracted her wand and was trying to conjure a Patronus.
But Harry was faster. He tried to assemble the memory of the day Ginny became his fiancèe. When it was vivid enough for him to feel her weight against his as he spun he'd in the air and her bright smile, the way she'd looked at him then...