Author's Note: This story was written for the Second OTP Swap. Emma Greyjoy's OTP is Bill and Fleur, and this story was greatly inspired by her reasoning for loving this couple. I've never been super in love with this pairing, but now I am. :) This is my first time writing both of these characters, so I hope I did them justice!


It was really happening. While everyone else stood out on the grounds of Hogwarts and continued their celebrations of the second anniversary after the battle, Fleur leant against the door of the Entrance Hall and clutched her round middle. She'd only gone in to use the loo—which she'd already done at least twenty times that day. She never expected to be cursing a long line of French words while wondering how the hell she was going to get herself over the threshold, let alone find her her husband among the crowds of families and professors and students both current and graduated gathered around the grounds of Hogwarts.

Fleur supposed that after such a pleasant pregnancy, something was bound to go off schedule. According to her midwife, Fleur still had another full week before anything like this was supposed to happen. Of course, she'd been warned that the baby could come anytime that it pleased, but after a life of punctual menstrual cycles and nine months of perfectly timed pregnancy moments, Fleur never expected the most important event to arrive sooner than expected.

As her muscles squeezed together until she thought she might faint, Fleur knew no wishful thinking would change the fast that her baby was on her way. These were not the horrible fake contractions she'd experienced last month. These were the real thing.

She really hoped Bill hadn't finished off his glass of firewhisky yet.

As suddenly as the pain had hit her, it faded into nothing more than an uncomfortable tightness. Fleur took in several deep breaths before pulling out her wand and casting a Patronus. The silver swan glided out and soared once around her before landing at her feet. "Go to Bill," she told the bird between pants. "Tell 'im the baby is coming. Now."

In a rush of feathers, the swan flew out the door. It occurred to Fleur then that she probably should have told Bill where she was, but she decided her husband was smart enough to figure it out. She would simply have to stay where she was and wait for him. That wouldn't be difficult. She was too terrified to do much else.

An irrational fear of taking another step consumed her. What if another contraction came? That was inevitable, but she'd prefer not to go through the next one alone. Or what if her water broke? That would mean the baby was really coming, and they'd have no time to contact Fleur's midwife, Lucinda Baker. Of course, Madam Baker would immediately tell Fleur 'I told you so', but she didn't care. Madam Baker could chastise her all she wanted for insisting on coming to the anniversary celebration instead of staying home as long as she also held Fleur's hand and reassured her all would be okay.

What if Madam Baker couldn't ben summoned in time? Fleur didn't know what she would do without her. After all, it was bad enough that her parents and sister were still in France with plans to travel tomorrow. Now tomorrow would be too late!

"Fleur! Fleur!"

"I am 'ere!"

A sea of red-headed Weasleys rushed towards her with Bill—long hair billowing behind him—leading the charge. "Merlin's dingy pants, are you alright?" Bill asked, out of breath as he reached her.

She transitioned from the doorway to her husband, leaning against his shoulder to support her shaking knees. "We must fetch Madam Baker," Fleur said, ignoring Bill's question. It should have been obvious by her sweating face and heaving breaths she was not all right.

"I'll go," Molly said, not waiting for a response. She pulled up the ends of her robes and dashed off in the direction of the gates where she could Apparate to Madame Mylitta's Midwife Center.

With their mother hen gone, the rest of the Weasleys glanced at each other for further instruction. Fleur honestly didn't understand how they survived on their own. She grabbed Bill's hand and said, "We should go home and wait for 'er zere."

"You can't Apparate. You're in labour!" Bill said as if she hadn't realised that last part herself.

"We'll see if Professor McGonagall will let us borrow a carriage," George said, then rushed off towards the more crowded part of the grounds.

Angelina, his recent wife, gave the empty space of her husband an annoyed look. "He was including me in that 'we', wasn't he?" she said, patting her own pregnant belly that put her in the pre-waddling but post-running phase.

"I'll go with him," Arthur said, patting Angelina's arm apologetically before running after his son.

"And I'll find you a cup for water," Angelina said to Fleur. She walked away at a fairly brisk pace for a pregnant woman.

Of course, as soon as Fleur began to feel reassured that she would find a way home and have Madam Baker at her side within the hour, another contraction gripped her stomach and sent her doubling over. They better all hurry up.

"She shouldn't stay out here," she heard Hermione say as the pain passed and her ears popped. "There's no way she can have a baby out on the grass."

"Zat will not 'appen," Fleur said through gritted teeth. "I will wait 'ere for my carriage and 'ave zis baby at 'ome as planned."

And then her water broke.

All of the concerned faces turned to panic. Percy excused himself to check on how things were moving along with the carriage, leaving Fleur only with her husband, the two youngest Weasleys, and their significant others. Things were not going according to plan at all.

"Maybe we should go to the hospital wing," Ron suggested.

Hermione opened her mouth to chastise him, but then her face softened. "That's actually not a bad idea."

"We can run up there now and see if Madam Pomfrey's around," Harry said. "She'll know what to do."

Before Fleur could insist on staying exactly where she was, the three of them sprinted past her and up the marble staircase. Unable to believe this was really happening, she looked at the last remaining Weasley who she wasn't married to. Ginny only shrugged. "Well, come on, then," she said, taking Fleur's other side and turning them towards the Entrance Hall.

"Maybe we should wait for Dad, George, and Percy. It'll be easier to get you on a carriage here," Bill said, glancing over his shoulder for any sign of his father or brothers.

Fleur almost agreed with him until an involuntary groan and blinding pain interrupted her. Ginny shot him a dangerous look. "Yeah, yeah, okay, the Hospital Wing it is," he said.

What should have been a short trip up the marble staircase and through a few corridors dragged on as they were forced to stop every few minutes to let Fleur yell out a few curses in French. Halfway there, they were met with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Madam Pomfrey. Fleur noticed one of the hospital beds wheeling behind the matron and was grateful to see that at least one person at this school was thinking straight.

"Let's get you off your poor feet, dear," Madam Pomfrey said as she helped Bill place Fleur on the bed and motioned for it to follow her back down the corridor. As she jogged along the end of the bed by Fleur's head, she said, "Well, I must say, this is a first for Hogwarts. At least for as long as I've been here."

Panic clenched around Fleur's chest, and she nearly pulled Bill down on top of her as she clutched his hand. "You can 'elp, yes?"

"Of course, of course." Madam Pomfrey waved away her worry and took her other hand. "I brought dozens of babies into the world in my younger years. It's like riding a broom; you never forget how it's done."

That did little to calm Fleur's nerves, but it wasn't like she was in a position to argue. "Madam Baker will be 'ere soon," she said, mostly to reassure herself.

"If she makes it on time," Bill said with a teasing smile, though that disappeared as soon as he caught sight of his wife's glare.

The hospital wing's doors flung out for them, and Fleur watched the high stone ceiling rush past her as Madam Pomfrey set her up in the far corner of the wing, far away from the half a dozen students in their own hospital beds. The matron set up a curtain around her bed in seconds, then handed her a glass of water that seemed to come out of nowhere. Perhaps this school matron wasn't so bad after all.

"Now all that's left to do is wait," Madam Pomfrey said after helping Fleur out of her robes and into a frock she wouldn't mind staining. "I promise to be right back." She patted Fleur's knee and disappeared through the curtains, leaving Fleur and Bill alone with their soon-to-arrive baby.

"Bill?"

"Yes, love?"

"I am glad we waited to do zis."

Bill gives an uneasy chuckle, probably remembering her various reactions when he'd twice told her he wanted to wait to have kids.

The first time had been early in their marriage. She'd been slightly sympathetic since she couldn't deny the dangerous times after a lot of Death Eaters had invaded their wedding, but her sympathy had been greatly outweighed by her need for motherhood. She even suggested running away to France. Of course, right after she'd said it, she regretted it. It wasn't what she wanted and it was definitely not what Bill wanted. Neither of them would have ever run from a fight. But Fleur had been scared—no, terrified—by the idea that either one of them might be killed. And, yes, selfishly she'd wanted a baby just in case.

After a week or so, though, Fleur had been happy with the decision. They dedicated their lives to the Order and had been there for Ron and, later, the others when they'd needed them. She couldn't imagine trying to have and take care of a baby at the same time.

The real fight had come at the end of the war. They were safe. The war was over. Fleur felt it was time. Finally. But Bill had been hesitant. It took many weeks and fights for him to say why, and Fleur said many regrettable things in that time. Bill had needed the time to find the words for his feelings, though, and then he'd explained how he'd witnessed the devastation of his own parents loosing a child. One part of him was terrified to go through the same thing while another feared that having a child so soon after Fred's death would feel like they were rubbing their child like salt into the wounds of his parents' loss or, worse, like they were trying to replace Fred.

"I am… being serious," Fleur said, having to pause to pant or grimace or yell. "You were… right about… waiting… ow!… Now… now is ze… right time."

Bill smiled and kissed her white-knuckled hand. "I thought next week was the perfect time."

"She is a Delacour… she waits… for no one." Fleur matched Bill's smile, still so thankful that she met him during the Triwizard Tournament and took that job at Gringotts. She could not imagine doing this with anyone else. "Besides," she added, "today is a… a special day… I zink she knows… we are celebrating… new life… ours…" She sucked in a breath as a particularly strong construction gripped her. "And 'ers."

Bill reached over and grazed his hands over her swollen stomach with the lightest of touches. "She's our little victory."

"Yes!" Fleur shouted, and Bill jumped back. "Zat is 'er name!"

"It is?" Bill asked with a confused look. "Victory?"

"Victoire." Fleur smiled at her husband with satisfaction and watched his confusion melt into a grin. "It is perfect."

The curtains swished open, and Madam Baker strolled in with a kind but stern look. "I told you coming here was a bad idea."

Bill laughed heartily while Fleur barely got out a chiming puff of air. "Did you really expected her to listen?" Bill asked.

"I didn't expect either of them to listen," Madam Baker said, motioning towards Fleur's rising and falling belly, "which is why I suggested staying home and in bed this week."

"It was a… good zing… zat I did not listen," Fleur said. "We would not 'ave… found ze perfect name."

Madam Baker shook her head but smiled. "Names are all well and good, but consider yourself lucky you were in a place with both a hospital wing and an able matron."

"Oh," Fleur said, grinning down at her belly and then to her husband, "I know 'ow lucky I am."