Always- a Hinny / Romione fanfic

Chapter Forty Nine

Suddenly, a girl of about fifteen, with long dirty blonde hair tapped him on the shoulder. A few other giggly girls stood a ways behind her.

"Um..." She twittered, braces flashing, "Mr. Potter...can I have...can I have your autograph?" Harry was startled. He blinked.

"Um...sure...yes of course..." She had a quill and inkpot ready dipped for him. He scribbled a messy signature, trying desperately for it to seem more professional, then gave her a small wave as she ran shrieking back to her friends. Harry's eyebrows creased in the middle for a moment, then turned back to the game.

The other team called timeout, and Harry sat Teddy down.

"Harry," Teddy asked, head sweeping the crowd he was too short to see. "What did you write on that girls parchment?"

"My name," Harry said modestly, staring absentmindedly at the Hornets, huddled, black and yellow clad, holding up the game.

"Why?"

Harry looked into his godsons eyes. Then he laughed.

"'Cuz I'm famous." Teddy's eyes widened.

"Really?!"

"Oh yeah," and before Teddy could ask why, like he always did, Harry spotted a vendor selling chocolate frogs. His loud voice carried. Harry got his attention and forked over a galleon for the candy. The mans eyes swept Harry's forehead for a moment. Harry ignored this, and opened a chocolate frog.

"Harry!" Teddy shouted. A few more heads turned. Harry willed him to be quiet. "It's you!" The boy's face was full of chocolate as he handed Harry the card.

It was indeed his face, smiling heroically up at him. His scar stood out a little more than it did in real life, as did his eyes. The tiny gold lettering underneath read.

Harry James Potter

The only known wizard to survive the killing curse, earning him the title "The Boy Who Lived." He's the youngest enter and champion of the TriWizard Tornament. He's most famous for his most recent, and the final defeat of the most dangerous, dark wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort in The Battle Of Hogwarts in 1998.

Harry stared at it numbly for a moment, running his calloused thumb over and over the letters in disbelief.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his arm. Instinctively, he shoved Teddy under the seat and drew his wand. A lot of heads turned. He lowered it when he recognized the redheaded, freckled face.

"Ron," he said, almost laughing. "What are you doing here?"

"It's my sister's game isn't it? But actually, I've been sent to get you."

"Sent? What do you mean sent? Whose hurt?"

"No one!" Ron laughed, holding up a freckled hand. "Except Fleur." At the sight of Harry's frightened expression, he explained quickly. "Harry, she's in labor, bloody hell!"

"Teddy," Harry stuffed the chocolate frog box in his godson's hands. "Let's go,"

"Who won?"

"Nobody. Yet." Harry said, picking up the pace.

"Ron, he can't apparate with us!" Ron slapped his forehead, then turned.

"There's a public floo network at every major Wizarding site, don't you know? The leaky cauldron is less than two blocks away!"

As they walked, Teddy complained that he was hungry, that he had to use the loo, and that his feet hurt. Harry kept telling him they were almost there.

"Great parenting skills," Ron teased with a grin as he opened the pub door.

"Yeah, come back to me when you and Hermione have kids,"

Only Harry would notice the tinge of pink in Ron's ears.

Harry pinched some floo powder, took Teddy's hand, and stepped into the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron. Giving Ron a nervous wave, he was whisked off to St.Mungos.
***

By the time they had gotten there, the newest addition to the Weasley family was laying in her mothers arms. She was 7 1/2 pounds, and absolutely gorgeous. Fleur was sleepily stroking the top of her baby soft head.

"Did you finally settle on a name?" Molly asked, talking in a low voice.

"Yes," Fleur said thickly. Even after giving birth, she still looked like a beautiful Veela. "She is Domonique, after my Mother," Hermione, Angelina and Audrey let out squeals. Harry and Ron exchanged a look.

Bill held his newborn daughter. She opened her eyes.

Victorie's eyes were like her mothers, a bright, vibrant blue. Though Bill still had blue eyes, his were dark. Dominique's were just the same, like the sea after a storm.

"I hope she's a daddy's girl. I need one of those," Bill whispered into Dominique's blanket, so nobody could hear him.
***

Aye so sorry I haven't I was really busy during break but now I'll be on more so yay