THE NEW HEAVEN AND EARTH | RON WEASLEY [BOOK FIVE]

2007-2008

"Did you just quote Shakespeare to me?" she asked breathlessly, biting down on her lip and doing her best to disguise her growing smile.

"Merry Christmas, love." Ron said, capturing her lips with his own and she began to laugh mid-kiss.

FRIDAY 9th of AUGUST, 2008

"Bloody hell."

Ron burst into the delivery room, cursing under his breath as he ran his fingers through his hair in clear frustration.

"Hello to you, too." Gene mumbled, frowning. "Not like I've just gone through twelve hours of labour."

Ron's face instantly fell, quickly making his way over to Gene's bedside to press a kiss to her hair, brushing away the stray hair that was stuck to her forehead. Then, he traced a finger across his daughters cheek, sleeping peacefully in Gene's arms with a smile on his face.

Cordelia was born on the 8th of August at one in the morning, in what Gene had to describe as her worst labour yet, lasting over five hours longer than either Ophelia or the twins had.

But, upon her arrival, Gene soon found that the exhaustion and distress had disappeared, and herself and Ron were overwhelmed with emotion as they welcomed their fourth child into the world. 

"Sorry, love," he muttered, pressing another kiss to her head. "Aure lost the kids."

"Aure did what?" Gene choked on air, causing Cordelia to stir in her arms, her tiny features twisting into the face she often made when she was about to cry.

"Don't worry, she's got them now!" Ron assured her as he went to lift Cordelia from Gene's arms, gently rocking her back to sleep. "They saw Mum and Dad and chased them through A&E."

Gene slumped back against her headboard, relaxing as she realised that from his description of them, they seemed to be fine. At eight-years old, Sirius and Regulus were more reckless than ever, as chaos seemed to follow them wherever they went– which was usually where Teddy went. The three boys had formed a close bond, only separated in age by two years.

Ophelia was three now, though she did her very best to keep up with her older brothers in their mischief, and she did a fine job of it, too. If anything, the boys were having to keep up with her and James.

Harry and Ginny had their first son, James Albus Potter, five months after Ophelia was born. They had soon become closer than they could have ever imagined, beyond what they thought three-year olds were capable of. And two months later, Hermione and Finn had given birth to their first daughter, Margaret Maddox, who had quickly come to be adored by all.

"Jesus Christ." Gene murmured, watching as a flash of black whizzed past the glass window, followed by a panicked Aurelia and Mrs. Weasley, "Might that be them?" she asked, smiling faintly.

"Yeah, probably." Ron returned the smile, watching as Aurelia entered with Regulus over her shoulder, and Molly followed, her hand in Sirius' and finally, Ophelia sitting in Arthur's arms contently.

"There she is–!" Aurelia grinned, placing Regulus back onto his own to feet as she made her way over to Gene, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I missed you, Mama." Ophelia clambered up the side of the bed, with Gene helping her up the rest of the way until she was sat in between her legs.

"Are you coming home now?" Sirius asked, to which Gene nodded with a smile, tucking a curl behind his ear.

"Good, 'cause I don't think I can pretend to like Aure's cooking anymore." Regulus whispered.

Gene laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead before doing the same to Sirius, who had now gotten comfortable in her bed, laying his head across Ophelia's lap, as she gently played with his hair. Regulus squeezed in beside Gene, leaning against her as she wrapped an arm closely around him.

"Yes, my loves." Gene smiled, "I'm coming home." she nodded.

She looked up at Ron, who was stood with Aurelia and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as they fawned over Cordelia who had fallen back to sleep in her fathers arms quickly. It was as though he could sense her eye on him, as he looked up instantly, catching her eyes and he smiled back.

Only then had she realised that she already was home. Wherever her family was– here in the baby ward of a hospital or in their living room, or at The Burrow– she was home.