Title: No more
Author's Note: Thanks to my beta, miss_daizy! *HUGS*
Bill held Fleur's hand as he listened to Kingsley's speech. It was unseasonably warm for early May, and his new dress robes were making him itch. Bill glanced at Harry on the dais—The Man Who Defeated Voldemort looked like he would vomit.
Bill smiled and turned to whisper to Fleur, who was clutching his hand rather harder than he thought necessary. She was white as a ghost with sweat glistening on her forehead and upper lip.
"Are you okay?"
Fleur nodded again.
"We can leave if you don't feel well."
"We cannot leave!" Fleur hissed. "We are remembering Fred; and Ron and your muzzer will receive ze Order of Merlin, we must stay. Besides, we are in ze middle of ze row . . ."
Bill admitted Fleur had a point. Leaving would cause quite a disturbance. Their whispering was probably causing a disturbance, too, judging by the look Mum was giving him.
Fleur turned her gaze determinedly forward, clutching Bill's hand even more tightly, if that were possible. Even though he thought his hand would fall off, he tried to ignore it. Harry looked even worse than the perspiring Fleur, and Bill hoped neither of them would faint.
Kingsley finished, everyone clapped, and Harry came to the podium. Harry cleared his throat, and began his speech, or more accurately, the speech Hermione had certainly written for him.
Fleur gasped, grabbing Bill's arm with both hands. "Beel! My waters 'ave broken!"
"We cannot . . ."
"We cannot have the baby on Hogwarts' grounds surrounded by thousands of people!"
Fleur nodded, and Bill helped her stand. As soon as they did, Harry stopped talking.
"Sorry, Harry," Bill called. "Fleur's in labor!" Bill figured if he was going to make a disturbance, he might as well make it a good one.
The crowd started buzzing, as the entire row stood and moved to let them pass.
George whined, "How come they get to skive off?"
"George!" Molly admonished. "Bill, Dad and I will . . ."
"Stay for the ceremony. We'll see everyone at St. Mungo's later." Now out of the row, Bill scooped Fleur into his arms and hurried towards the gates.
"Mr. Weasley, would you like to hold your daughter?"
Bill shakily accepted the warm bundle. He saw the birth, of course, but now she was clean and wrapped in a pink blanket. Bill looked at his daughter's face. His heart wasn't beating properly as it stretched to make room for this brand new person. His eyes were not seeing anything anymore except for the precious miracle in his arms. Bill approached Fleur, and kissed her. The kiss was different, because they were different. Still lovers, but now parents, connected forever by more than each other. Bill glanced into Fleur's eyes and scarcely recognized her. When had she become so beautiful? He was looking into the eyes not of his lovely wife, but of the mother of his child. No more was Bill's life his—he was a dad.