one.
March first nineteen eighty. The calm of the room was disturbed only be the wails of a small, pink bundle of flesh. Arthur Weasley smiled deeply, and Molly Weasley's eyes shone. But she was too tired to smile. One would think after five sons, the sixth would be easier. But, no. She was older now and much more exhaustible.
Ronald. It sounded like a smart name. A kind name. Maybe stubborn, but meaning well. And as all wizards knew, children grew into their names. It seemed strange at first, calling these miracles by the names given to them by parents. But after a few years, the children grew into their names.
Weasley. The first thing to emerge. The spots of red hair already peaking out on that rosy little scalp. A true Weasley. He would grow up just like his brothers, attend Hogwarts, find himself, get a job in the ministry. Well, maybe not. He would be himself. But a Weasley, nonetheless.
Ronald Weasley was put into his mothers arms by the Healer, who had looked after the birth. It had gone well. Molly had performed beautifully, with not a bit of help from magic. Seeing Molly exhausted, he left her and their new son with the Healer, and ushered his five boys out of the small room, to bring them home by floo.
He would visit his wife and baby the next day.