(Gilderoy Lockhart)
A man does not cry.
Naturally, as an exceptionally dignified and composed individual, I firmly believe in maintaining elegance even during emotional moments.
However…
There are a few occasions in life where shedding tears is not merely acceptable, but entirely justified.
And this was unquestionably one of them.
I stood beside the hospital bed staring down at the tiny bundle in Tonks' arms, and to my immense surprise, my vision had become slightly blurred.
Ridiculous.
Completely unreasonable.
And yet there it was.
Tonks looked exhausted, sweaty, and thoroughly drained, but despite that, she was smiling softly as she cradled the newborn against her chest.
Then her eyes shifted toward me.
"…Is that a tear I see?" she asked weakly, looking deeply amused.
I straightened immediately.
"These," I informed her with utmost dignity, even as I rubbed the tears away, "are tears of happiness."
Tonks snorted tiredly.
I ignored her and leaned closer to look at the baby again.
Merlin…
She was tiny.
Unbelievably tiny.
A small tuft of bright pink hair rested atop her head, and every now and then her little face scrunched slightly in her sleep.
I felt something strange tighten in my chest.
"She is," I declared softly, "the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."
Tonks' expression softened instantly, then she glanced down at the baby in thought.
"Have you thought of a name?" I asked quietly.
She scrunched up her nose.
"You know," she muttered, "I still blame Mum for naming me Nymphadora."
I coughed lightly.
"A powerful name."
"It's awful."
"It is… memorable."
"And my middle name is even worse."
Ah yes.
The Black family truly did enjoy treating children like astronomy textbooks.
Tonks looked down at the sleeping baby again, her expression becoming uncertain.
"I don't want her to hate me because I picked the wrong name."
Then slowly, she looked up at me with unmistakable hope in her eyes.
I blinked.
Then chuckled.
"So your plan," I said gravely, "is to ensure she hates me instead."
Tonks puffed out her chest proudly.
"Exactly."
"A clever strategy indeed."
"Thank you."
"Unfortunately," I continued smoothly, "your scheme is bound to fail."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"Oh?"
"For I," I announced dramatically, placing a hand against my chest, "have already chosen the perfect name."
Tonks groaned softly. "Of course you do."
"A name," I continued, entirely undeterred, "which honours both the Lockhart and Black family traditions."
Now I had her attention.
I smiled faintly and looked down at the child.
"Gienah Lockhart," I said softly.
Tonks blinked.
I continued.
"The brightest star in the Corvus constellation."
The room grew quieter.
"And," I added with appropriate modesty, "it sounds rather excellent, if I do say so."
Tonks repeated it under her breath.
"Gienah…"
A small smile slowly spread across her face.
"…That's way better than mine."
"Most names are."
She lightly kicked my leg beneath the blankets.
Before I could respond, the hospital room door burst open.
"Nymphadora Vulpecula Tonks, how dare you!"
Tonks immediately groaned.
"Mum…"
Andromeda swept into the room with the force of an incoming storm, Ted following behind her looking far more amused than concerned.
Right behind them came Aurora and Rosmerta.
Andromeda stopped beside the bed, looking scandalised.
"There is absolutely nothing wrong with your name!"
Tonks stared at her flatly.
"Tell that to all the kids at Hogwarts calling me 'Nympho.'"
The room fell silent.
Andromeda opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"…Oh."
Tonks blinked.
And honestly, so did I.
Because Andromeda had just looked genuinely guilty.
She slowly sat beside the bed and sighed.
"…I'm sorry, dear."
Tonks froze.
I could practically see the shock in her eyes.
Apparently, this was the first genuine apology she had ever received regarding the matter.
Andromeda awkwardly smoothed the blankets, looking distinctly uncomfortable with emotional vulnerability.
Ted wisely intervened before the atmosphere could become too emotional.
"So," he said warmly, rubbing his hands together, "where's my grandson?"
Tonks immediately perked up.
"Granddaughter," she corrected proudly.
Then she carefully adjusted the blanket and revealed the baby.
"Everyone," she announced with all the dignity of a queen presenting an heir, "allow me to introduce Gienah Lockhart."
Almost on cue, the baby opened her eyes.
Bright pink eyes blinked sleepily up at the room.
Aurora visibly melted.
Rosmerta outright covered her mouth with both hands.
Ted looked like someone had hit him with a Confundus Charm.
"Oh Merlin," he whispered.
Even Andromeda's stern composure cracked instantly.
"She's beautiful."
Naturally, she inherited that from me.
"Want to hold her?" Tonks asked her father.
I immediately protested.
"Excuse me," I said, appalled. "I am the father. I should very obviously be first."
Ted chuckled and stepped aside graciously. "He's got a point."
Tonks narrowed her eyes at me. "…Fine."
Very carefully, she held the baby out toward me.
"But if you drop her…"
"That," I interrupted smoothly, "sounds like something I should be saying to you dear."
"Shut up," she muttered, blushing faintly.
With utmost care, I slid my arms beneath the tiny bundle and lifted my daughter into my embrace.
And immediately…
Gienah blinked up at me.
Then her hair shifted.
Pink melted away like paint in water, transforming into brilliant golden blond.
At the same time, her eyes changed too, becoming a vivid, unmistakable blue.
The entire room gasped.
I stared proudly at my daughter.
"Well," I said smugly, "is she not simply adorable?"
I adjusted my hold slightly.
"Clearly she takes after her father."
Aurora laughed immediately.
"Oh wonderful," she said dryly. "Now there are two of them."
The room erupted into laughter.
Even Andromeda smiled.
And as I looked down at the tiny child in my arms, watching her small fingers curl instinctively around one of mine…
For perhaps the first time in my life…
I felt something that had absolutely nothing to do with fame, admiration, or applause.
Something quieter.
Something deeper.
And somehow…
That frightened me far more than any Dark Lord ever could.
…