"A girl?" Ron asks nervously, staring at his wife's swollen belly.
"Yes, Ronald. A girl."
He shifts his weight from foot to foot, eyes never leaving Hermione's stomach. "You're sure?"
When she slumps slightly, he forces his attention to her face at last. "I thought you'd be happier."
"I am! I am, Hermione. But... A girl. I don't really know anything about girls."
An amused grin tugs at her lips. "I know. I was your friend for years before I was your wife, remember?"
He can't help himself. He laughs. "Fair enough."
..
"What about Muriel?"
"As in Auntie Muriel?" he asks, mouth hanging open in confusion.
"Exactly. I thought it would be lovely to name her after someone in your family, and Percy already has Molly, so-"
"Hermione, Auntie Muriel is a nightmare. The baby might come out with three heads and fangs if you name her after that!"
"Stop being so dramatic."
"It's true!"
"The baby is due in weeks, and we still don't have a name for her!" Hermione insists, pacing the floor with a hard expression.
With a sigh, he climbs to his feet, catching his wife gently by her wrist. "You worry too much."
..
"Hermione?"
She's doubled over, knuckles white as she grabs the table. Sweat beads her forehead as she lets out an unearthly scream. "The baby!"
Swearing loudly, he puts and arm around her, frantically trying to lead her to the door.
"Floo, Ronald! Floo!"
"Right!" he says, quickly changing his direction.
..
"She's beautiful," he whispers, staring at the tiny, squirming girl in his arms. "Little Gwenog?"
"We are not naming her after a Quidditch player," Hermione groans, though a weak smile plays at her lips.
Ron frowns, moving a finger over the baby's rosy skin. Why is choosing a name so difficult? Hermione had been right. They should have figured this out much sooner. "Sort of looks like a rose, doesn't she?" he muses. "Red hair. Pink skin. A pretty little rose."
"Ron Weasley, you are absolutely perfect."
He turns, brows raised in surprise. "I am?"
"A rose. Our little Rose."