"Ah," hermione heard herself sigh with relief as she let her weight fall into the large red armchair beside the Christmas tree. Her relief was short lived as seconds later she winced and reached for her swelling stomach. Another twinge. A good sign according to both her mum and Mrs Weasley. She wasn't so sure, perhaps it was the past once again interfering with her future, but there was a reason her past interfered. Her past had taught her lessons, it was full of cautionary tales and mental challenges. It had taken so long for her to overcome the curse from seven years ago, although the agony itself had been short lived the mental pain and instability had caused so many problems. Problems which she hoped had ended with Arthur.

She let her hands envelope her belly, feeling it was all she could do to keep this child safe. Artie was gone, as were so many others, and she had to live in the present, let Artie and the other little angels live on in this baby.

She had been brought up a Christian, a believer that everything God did was for a reason and part of his greater plan. Learning she was a witch, after years of taunts at school and child psychologist and her mothers tears of despair, that had been proof, proof that God was real. Ron, he had only ever encountered polytheism, the beliefs of the pagan witches and wizards who had lived centuries ago- no one in the magical world really believed that stuff anymore but it was deep-rooted in their culture and customs. When Voldemort had returned she had doubted her faith, doubted it to the point she lost hold of it completely. Then she fell pregnant; everything changed.

Hermione had found she needed God, the God she had felt close to as a child, the God she could ask a favour of. She needed a God when her little boy was born sleeping, she needed a God when Ron lost his brother. She needed her son to be up there in heaven with Lupin and Tonks, and his Uncle Fred. Artie had been a shock, he was almost there when he passed, when he joined his uncle and siblings in heaven.

Now she could only hope the heaven in her head, the heaven she needed in order to keep fighting, was a reality.

She looked down at her belly, watching her stomach move up and down, in and out. Their little girl was in there, and her heart was beating strongly, her weight gaining steadily. Everything was OK. And yet Hermione couldn't help but wonder for how long.

A large and long fingered hand lay comfortably on her shoulder, she closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy the comfort.

"You're thinking about them," Ron stated, his voice numb but not uncaring. She knew he cared, he cared so much but he felt he had to be a man, had to hold control of his emotions.

Ron crossed in front of her, holding Hermione's stripy blue mug in his free hand. He handed her the mug filled with warm, milky tea. Before he exited the room briefly to bring in his own mug- Chudley canons orange - and then settle with crossed legs at his wife's feet.

He was dressed in an orange t-shirt and horribly clashing navy coloured tracksuit bottoms, and a pair of orange slippers with some football club on the front. They had been from her mum, she still didn't really comprehend that Ron knew nothing about football.

Hermione herself was dressed in pyjamas also, a matching set with a light blue and pink check design and a button up front. She wore her fluffy boot style slippers and a pair of thick hiking socks. The house was always cold and although the top half of her body was always warm her blood circulation had been bad throughout her pregnancy and it meant her feet were always stone cold.

Ron took a sip of his tea then his eyes flashed wide and he made a load 'mm' noise before swallowing his mouthful and beginning to talk.

"I have a new suggestion!" Hermione felt herself groan inside, his name suggestions were always a little strange, some she could cope with, some she knew no muggle would bat an eyelid at- no muggle who knew her name that is- but there were others a child going through a mainstream school education could never thrive with.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, waiting for the response she knew was coming.

"I mean, maybe it's too close and, maybe too plain and-,"

"Spit it out Ronald," she sighed, gently. She was too hot, her back hurt and her stomach was cramping something awful, she was struggling to have patience.

"Rose."

Hermione paused. She hadn't expected that. It was pretty, simple and easy to spell, it wasn't common, but she could understand why Ron was concerned. It was a flower name, Lily was also a flower name- Harry's mothers flower name. Would it hurt him to use a name so close?

Rose Granger-Weasley, it worked. The flow was good and it wasn't a horrendously complicated name that no one could spell or pronounce, like her own. Nor was it dull and stuck far back into wizarding norms like Ron's name. There was no way that Ron could shorten it either, as much as she had learned to deal with 'Mione', their little girl didn't need a Granger-Weasley, it wasn't too bad.

Ron took another sip of his tea. She could tell that he was waiting, waiting for her to tell him it wasn't really a muggle-friendly name. But she was smiling at him, she nodded, sipped her tea and nodded again.

"What made you think of that?"

Ron looked slightly uncomfortable, his eyes met with the edge of the bronze coloured rug. He looked back up at his wife, his eyes were filled with an emotion that filled Hermione with bubbly happiness, with a squeeze of her heart. The intense gaze of true, real love.

"Because they are unique, they are pretty and, none of them are the same- they are like snowflakes aren't they, none are exactly the same."

Hermione couldn't keep her grin in, it burst onto her face so fast that it spread straight to her eyes which glowed with her feelings.

Sometimes she forgot how perfect this man was, how perfect he was for her, even though they were polar opposites in so many ways Ron was what she had been searching for since she was a little girl.

"Come up here," she stated, trying to subdue her grin and failing majorly. Ron rolled his eyes and obliged, kneeling up and stretching over her belly to place a soft peck on his wife's lips. Hermione smiled inside. This was perfect, everything was perfect now. She was married and expecting a baby, yes their journey had been rocky, but they had made it and made it together.

Another sharp twinge squeezed through her stomach and she tried automatically to soothe the pain by rubbing it. Her face scrunched in pain and her husband's eyes went wide.

"Hermione?" He was trying not to sound scared but she could tell he was.

She offered him a weak smile, nodding.

"I think it's time to get the car defrosted,"

"Really?"

Hermione nodded, this pain had been on and off for long enough now, and it was only getting stronger and closer together. It was time, at long last. There future was beginning.