The receptionist at Saint Mungo's is just settling down for a long, lazy afternoon when the doors at the front open with a bang and a sea of redheads pour into the front hall.
"Lily Potte- I mean, Malfoy," the redhead at the front, a dumpy sort of woman with only a few streaks of rusty red in her gray hair, puffs. "We have to see her. Has she had the baby? Is she alright? What's going on-"
The receptionist interrupts her with a sort of bored wave. "Only twenty people allowed to visit a new baby at a time." Ordinarily, she wouldn't even know if the baby HAD been born, but this is Lily Malfoy, one of the most famous witches in the wizarding world, married to Scorpius Malfoy, the richest. Everyone knows about her baby- the Daily Prophet reporters had a fit when they weren't allowed up to the Birthing Wing.
"We're all family," a redhead at the front interjects, a bossy sort of young woman. The receptionist recognizes her as Rose Lupin, the Charms professor at Hogwarts who has won some notoriety of late by managing to get "O's" for every student in a class of fifty.
"Be that as it may-" the receptionist starts, and then she stops, her jaw slowly lowering. A man with salt-and-pepper hair is pushing his way to the front of the throng, his hair even messier than usual and his iconic round glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose. The receptionist's eyes move automatically to the man's forehead, where they linger on the lightning-bolt scar which is still there.
"I don't usually do this," he starts. "But here I go: I saved this entire world from the evilest wizard there has ever been. As a small sign of gratitude, please let us pass."
The reception only recovers from her shock enough to press the button on the desk to let them through.
---
"You're all gits," Lily snaps as the huge crowd of people surges through the door of her tiny hospital room. "Don't you know I'm not supposed to be 'disturbed?'"
But she isn't as snappish as usual, because nestled in the crook of her arm is a tiny little specimen of humanity which seems to the Weasleys (and Potters) (and Malfoys) to be the most beautiful little baby girl who has ever lived. Her hair is, unsurprisingly, a bright cherry-red color, and her eyes, which blink slowly at the huge array of people, are an electric blue color.
Scorpius, who hasn't dared to get more than five feet away from his little girl since she was born, is now gazing happily at her, hardly daring even to blink in case she should disappear.
"What's her name, Prongs?" Hugo asks.
Lily smiles. "Ginevra Astoria Malfoy."