The chaos was coming to an end, they knew it was over, deep down they all knew but yet everyone left in the courtyard of what had been Hogwarts castle were no more relaxed than they had been throughout the long battle. Spells still fired after retreating Death Eaters, spells fired accidentally at friends and colleagues due to fear and mistrust. People screamed and cried, the noise was battering Ron's eardrums as he looked around at the mayhem.

He stood close to Harry, scared that if he so much as glanced away his best mate would be dead, really dead. His hand still tightly clutched the wand he was using. He couldn't even remember if it was his wand, did his look like that? He could feel a pulse in the tips of his fingers from grasping the piece of wood as if his life depended on it. His life had depended on it.

"Ron!"

He heard his name called through the crowds, glancing rapidly at Harry to make sure he too had heard and that he wasn't going round the twist. Glancing around he saw no one at first. He moved closer to Harry out of instinct, both twisting themselves outwards, preparing for attack.

"Ron!"

The call came again. This time he knew the voice and his anxiety heightened. Ginny. His whole body seemed to go numb and he thought he was going to throw up, not someone else, please, we've already lost Fred. This time Harry nudged him pointing to his left, to the orange head moving through the crowds. Ginny was batting her way between people, around and over rubble and eventually she came to a stop beside the boys.

Her actions did nothing but confuse her brother. She threw her arms around Harry's neck, delighted to see him. Ron prayed it was delight in her expression, not more pain, not more loss. His thoughts turned to Hermione, bloody hell, are they ok?

He noticed her fingernails before he took in any more of her face. They were covered in dried blood which went half way up her hands and lurked in the cervices. Ron couldn't hold himself steady, his legs seemed to give way on their own but he managed with very little grace to guide his backside onto a piece of rubble. He felt faint. No, God please, no.

Ginny knelt in front of him. She was grinning wildly, why was she happy? She had to be hysterical. The blood, there had to be a reason for the blood.

"Ron," she said softly, looking at him with concern – something he didn't often see from his baby sister unless he was in hospital. He looked up, met her eyes. They were worried now but even behind that worry there was a sparkle, a hint of some good in the situation.

"I don't want to say it if you're going to faint. I'm not carrying you upstairs."

Ron managed a nod, he didn't know how. All he could think about was his family, about Hermione, was it her blood? Why was Ginny grinning if it was the blood of his, he couldn't even think the word friend - she was much more than that now.

"Ron," Ginny grinned, her eyes almost tearful, "Things happened quickly - but everything's ok, she's just a bit shook up. I can't believe I'm saying this. You've got a son."

"Hermione? Love?"

Hermione remembered hearing the words of Mrs Weasley as she had struggled to hide the pain that had been coursing through her for a few hours by the time they arrived in the room of requirement. Now is not the time, she thought to herself. Ron's mother knew nothing about the baby; about her first grandchild, and this was not the way in which she should find out. In the words Ron had said to his eldest brother on the subject 'there's a bloody war on here, I don't need to be slaughtered by Mum before the battle even begins.'

It had felt a silly comment at the time, felt as though he was just making a joke to cover his increasing concern as they got closer and closer to danger, as her stomach was slowly beginning to grow. He was scared, she knew that and he knew the same of her but there was a war on. They had to take the Utilitarian view of Jeremy Bentham, 'the needs of the many over the needs of the few.' Yes, she had been exhausted, yes she had been physically sick and unable to eat at all, yes she had suffered pain in her legs from walking so far with the extra weight but it would be worth it. It had to be worth it.

Ron and Harry had left, Fred, George and Percy had headed off together much to Mrs Weasley's Chagrin. Arthur, Bill and Charlie were out there too so were all her school friends. Some of the underage had slipped through the net and got involved. She knew that all involved from sixteen to in their nineties were fighting, and fighting to the end or to death.

A sharp pain shot up her left side and she clutched at her ribs, Molly had crossed to her instantly. The pains had been getting strong, she knew she had to be in active labour. It wasn't time, she knew it wasn't time and if she could only keep going then they could give her medication to prevent the contractions. She just had to get through the next few hours.

"Hermione?"

She hadn't answered the question, she felt strange. Her mouth was dry, her eyes were full of a checked pattern in greys and blacks and she was struggling to see through them. She felt sick, a ringing was sounding sharply in her ears and it was as though her body was heavy, her head was heavy.