Almost Nine Months Later
Melody forced herself to turn over. It took quite a bit of work with her now huge stomach, but she hadn’t been able to sleep the other way. In fact, there was something ticking in her mind, forcing her awake.
Finally, she gave up and sat up in the bed. Harry moved beside her, but didn’t rise. She looked down at him jealously as he rested comfortable with his still trim body. Stepping from the bed, she tried to slip on her little slippers, but it was pointless. It had been pointless for the last month.
She was nearing the dresser when something began to tap violently on the glass. She grabbed her wand from her nightstand, but Harry was already out of bed, pulling the curtains away from the window.
“Get back, Mel,” he demanded.
Melody glanced over his shoulder and laughed a little at what she saw. A large jet black owl was waiting for them to open the window. Recognizing it as an emergency owl, though, Harry thrust the window up quickly, allowing the frantic bird in.
A small note fell from its leg and Harry read it to himself.
“It’s from Ron,” he said shortly, “Hermione’s in labor!”
In the next second, they were both dressed and making their way down the stairs to Apparate from the front porch. In unison they both made a single spin, but Harry unlike Melody disappeared.
She panicked for a moment before she realized that a side-along was necessary with the baby almost fully developed. Again she tried, and this time she was successful.
Arriving in the lobby of St. Mungo’s, she looked around for Harry or any of the Weasleys.
“Are you alright?” Harry asked, grasping her head in his hands.
“Forgot about the little one,” Melody replied casually, before grabbing his hand that was leading up to the birthing floor.
In the waiting room a mob of red heads was crowded around one spot. Thinking Hermione might be in the center of them, Melody waddled over to them as quickly as possible in her condition.
Seeing her approaching, Mrs. Weasley called out to her.
“Slow down, dear. You shouldn’t be so nervous in your condition. Come sit.”
She motioned toward a chair off to the side, but Melody made her way straight into the pit of Weasleys. In the center was not Hermione but Ron. She was completely pale and shaking from head to toe.
“You’re here,” he said breathlessly.
Harry moved in beside Melody and pulled her from the excited bunch.
“Mel, you really should sit. It might be awhile,” he said, tenderly placing her in the chair before returning to Ron.
Melody could see nothing between the fidgeting Weasleys, so she rose to her feet when Harry returned to her.
“Sit, Mel!” he said sharply, taking the seat beside her.
“How is he?”
“He’ll be fine. He’s just nervous. Hermione is fine, they say.”
“Good,” Melody replied as she rested her head on his shoulder.
“We’re the godparents.”
Melody rose from her sleepy state and looked at him.
“He told you in that short time?” she asked with a laugh.
“He told me a lot of things just now, mostly in jibberish.”
Melody laughed and put herself to bed on his shoulder once more. They sat like this for at least an hour when a very thin nurse entered the waiting room.
“Mr. Weasley?”
A cacophony of responses came from Arthur, Charlie, Bill, Fred, George, Percy, but nothing came from Ron. He had passed out.
“Oh snap out of it, boy,” his father said with a sharp snap of his fingers.
Ron revived and was helped to his feet by his twin brothers. The nurse gently placed her hand on his shoulder before leading him away to see Hermione and their child.
The clock ticked louder now that they didn’t have Ron to worry about. They were all left to crowd the waiting room and make clumsy small talk. The strain was first apparent on Mrs. Weasley as she began to pace the entire width of the room mumbling about seeing her grandchild.
Melody was just drifting off on Harry’s shoulder when Ron reappeared with a dreamy look on his face with the skinny nurse just behind him.
“He’s perfect,” Ron said sheepishly.
The Weasley clan erupted in rejoicing over another Weasley man. Fred and George began listing off all this things they could pack away in the boys truck when he went off to Hogwarts and Mrs. Weasley turned the yarn she was knitting into a bright blue color.
Charlie pulled a petite stuffed dragon from Gabby’s bag and handed it to Ron. A little shaken still, Ron looked at the dragon and then back at his brother.
“It’s for your son, Ron,” he said amidst a laugh.
Holding the small stuffed animal, Ron fell into the seat below him.
“My son…bloody hell! I’m a dad!”
Again he fainted, but this time the family let him rest a moment while they all scurried into Hermione’s room to see that baby. It wasn’t a challenge to find the little thing in its bassinet, for he had the same distinctive hair of his father and the majority of the people in the room.
“There he is!” Mrs. Weasley sang as she picked up the baby.
“Do you have a name?” Harry asked as he took his turn poking at the infant.
“Davon,” Hermione said from the bed, “Davon Albus Weasley “ for Dumbledore.”
The room hummed around the child for as long as the nurse would allow it, but as the clock finally hit seven in the morning, the Weasleys and Potters were ushered out.
Melody stole away from Harry in the lobby long enough to pass the nurse and see Hermione one last time. She crossed the room toward the sleepy mother and placed herself right at her side.
“Did it hurt?” she asked childishly.
“Don’t tell me the most powerful witch of our time is afraid of a little childbirth,” she laughed taking a drink of water.
Melody laughed, but Hermione could still see the fear on her face.
“Don’t worry, Mel,” she reassured, “With all the advances in magical medicine, I barely felt a thing.”
Smiling at Hermione, Melody made her way to exit. She was just about to board the elevator when a sharp pain hit her. The room began to fade as she heard voices rushing around her.