WARNING: This chapter involves blood and a rather graphic birth scene.

Chapter 90

Ron lowered his wand, watching as the last blanket folded itself neatly into the drawer. The drawer closed with a gentle click, and for a moment, they stood in silence.

The room was ready. They had spent the good part of the last week working on it, and it was now done. It wasn't just a pile of bags and boxes; it was a room suitable for a baby. A cot against the wall in one corner, a change table in the other. There was a set of drawers beside the table, filled with blankets, bath towels, wash cloths and all the clothes a little baby could ever wish for.

There were also some toys such as rattles, blocks, teething toys — things that might be useful as their daughter grew. In the centre was an orange rug with moving Snitches and the Chudley Cannons symbol floating around it.

"She'll love it," Hermione said softly, her eyes glistening with a few tears as she took in their hard work.

"She will." Ron hugged her from the side, squeezing her shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Hermione's voice was quiet, filled with emotion. Ron didn't know if it was due to exhaustion or anticipation or a bit of both. Probably a bit of both.

He kissed her temple and then dropped his arm, stowing his wand back into his pocket. "Do you reckon she'll come tomorrow like she's supposed to?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. She's not really giving me any signs that she is, but it's hard to say." She placed her hand over her stomach, rubbing it along her very large bump.

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and any other year, Ron would have been excitedly thinking about the day after and their plans for his favourite holiday. But he'd scarcely thought of Christmas this year, only the birth of his daughter. He wanted to meet her so desperately that he no longer cared that her birthday would be so close to Christmas. Even if it was on Christmas, he didn't care. He just wanted her here.

He was more than ready to give her every bit of love that he had.

"I think she will," Ron said confidently. "She'll be like you — always on time."

"I like to be early, thank you," Hermione replied with a smirk.

"Well, there's still some time left today." Ron turned and slowly closed the door to the room, giving himself another moment to take it in. Soon — very soon — his daughter would be in there. She'd be sleeping in the cot, lying on the rug on the floor with her toys… excited was an understatement.

They walked to their own bedroom, Hermione unable to go long distances quickly. Apart from working on the baby's room, she'd spent a lot of her time in bed, just unable to walk up and down the stairs at will.

Ron had brought her food and water and spent all of his free time with her, keeping her company. Not that she seemed to need it. She seemed happy with her books and herself.

Hermione awkwardly sat on the bed, sighing as she did so. "It won't be a bad thing if this baby decides to come tonight. I want to be able to sit down like a normal person again."

Ron smiled. "Have you given any more thought to a name?"

It was a topic that Ron kept bringing up every few days. He would have brought it up every day if he didn't think it would annoy Hermione. She didn't seem concerned that they were a day away from the due date and they still hadn't agreed on what to call their daughter. They weren't even close to agreeing on one. Their tastes just seemed to be too different for them to find any common ground. All the ones Ron suggested, Hermione thought wouldn't blend well in Muggle society. All the ones Hermione liked, Ron couldn't imagine himself calling any child of his by those names. At times, he did consider just giving in to her and agreeing that Elizabeth was what they'd call her, but he could never bring himself to do it. He just knew it wasn't the right one for their baby. But… nothing was the right one, and that was the problem.

Hermione shook her head.

Ron suppressed the urge to sigh. "What if we can't find one? What if she comes tonight and she doesn't have a name?"

"It's okay for her to not have a name for a day or so," Hermione assured him. "Until we find the right one. Which we will."

"What about Alesa?" Ron said. He'd seen it in a book.

Hermione said nothing.

"Orlice?"

Again, nothing.

"Adonnica?"

"We'll find one we both like, Ron," Hermione said quietly. "I know we will. When we see her, we'll just know. I promise."

"I just wish we had one now." Ron sunk onto the bed, resting his head against the headboard and sighing. "I don't like the idea of her being born and being nameless. Even if it's just for a little while."

Hermione reached her hand out and rested it on Ron's thigh. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to. She was grateful for his presence — as much as he was for hers.

For a while they lied on the bed. Ron was reluctant to leave her just in case she needed him, but eventually — as the sun disappeared behind the neighbours' houses across the street — he peeled himself away from the bed and sat up.

Hermione made to get up, too, but Ron shook his head. "I'm not really in the mood for cooking tonight," he confessed. "But I'll go and get us something. You'll be alright here for a while?"

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Of course."

Ron forced himself to stand. "I won't be long."

Hermione nodded, and Ron made his way slowly down the stairs. He thought he heard the whoosh of a Summoning spell being used and he smiled. Reading was just about the only thing she could do these days, and she'd probably sped through about six books in the last two weeks.

He Apparated to the only Apparition point in Nottingham city and made the short walk to one of their favourite places to get food. It was a pizza place and the only one Ron felt comfortable going to on his own. He knew the menu, he knew how much it cost (and therefore how much money to hand over) and found it easy.

By the time he returned, carrying a large cardboard box, Hermione would have probably read about one hundred pages of her book.

He carried up a plate with a few slices of pizza on it, and she put down her book at his appearance.

"Everything all right?" he asked, handing her the plate.

"Yes," she said. "Perfectly."

Ron sat on the bed again, eating his own pizza. After finishing one slice, he said, "Should I give you your Christmas present now? You know, just in case we can't celebrate properly on the day?"

"I think we should just wait and see what happens," Hermione replied. "For all we know, she'll be incredibly late and we'll reach New Year's and she'll still not be here."

"Merlin, I hope not," Ron said. "But okay. I'll wait a few more days. You'll like what I got you this year."

Buying for Hermione had become increasingly more difficult with each celebration. Whether that be birthday, Christmas or an anniversary. He felt as if she had everything she needed or wanted and unless he bought her more books, or a new ink pot for work, she didn't want or need anything else.

But he'd finally found something that he thought she'd like. He had happened upon it by accident, seeing an advertisement in his daily scanning of the Daily Prophet.

It was a magical planner, and even Ron, who was not one to ever use something like that, had considered buying one for himself. It shouted out reminders, it did automatic scheduling of appointments and so much more that he thought it would be something Hermione would be grateful for when she returned to work after having the baby.

He hoped, at least.

"I always like what you get," Hermione said, which was a blatant lie. Ron knew he didn't always manage something she appreciated, but she had the decency to never say anything.

"You'll really like this," Ron emphasised. "It's not even fun; it's just practical."

"Then I'm sure I will."

The rest of their evening went as it had done for the past few weeks. After dinner, Ron would do a quick tidy of the kitchen, wash the dishes, and then return upstairs to either find Hermione once again nose-deep in a book or more commonly, asleep from the exhaustion of just being pregnant.

On the eve of Christmas Eve, it was the latter.

Ron switched off the light and climbed into bed himself, snuggling against her. He placed his hand on her belly, but the baby was still, probably sleeping, too. Hermione said the baby seemed to sleep overnight and she was rarely woken to her moving around or random feet in ribs.

"Come soon," he said softly, drawing Hermione even tighter.

…

Christmas Eve came and went, as did Christmas, and so did Boxing Day. Ron couldn't even enjoy his favourite holiday because he was watching Hermione closely for any sign that the baby might be on its way.

But there was nothing. The only time he thought there might have been something had been Christmas Day, in the evening. They'd decided to have Christmas at their own place again, seeing that travel even by the Knight Bus was too difficult for Hermione. Jane and Robert had made the two and a half hour drive up to Nottingham to spend it with them, opting to stay the night. They had taken themselves off to bed, sleeping in the study where Ron had squeezed in a mattress beside the desk and all the junk they seemingly kept in there.

Ron had just been about to go to bed himself when Hermione frowned, her hand on her stomach, giving Ron pause.

"What?" he'd asked, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest. "Is it —"

"I don't know," Hermione said. "Honestly, I think it was just a long day for everyone. Just a twinge for the moment."

"That could be the start," Ron replied eagerly.

"Maybe."

But it hadn't been. Though, the 'twinges' had become more frequent through Boxing Day, but still nothing that brought Hermione any major discomfort or alarm.

Ron, though, was adamant that it was the start and he was growing impatient. The baby was now three days overdue and it wasn't something he'd anticipated. He'd been banking on Christmas Eve and in his mind, his daughter should be here by now.

But she wasn't.

"If you're feeling something, then it probably is the start," Ginny said, putting a wriggling James on the floor so the seven month old could crawl around and get into everything Ron and Hermione had not yet baby-proofed.

Ginny, Harry and James had come over on the twenty-seventh, just to check-in with how things were going. Ginny said she guessed Hermione was becoming frustrated with being now three days past her due date, which had been a correct assessment.

While she kept assuring Ron everything was okay, Ron sensed her growing annoyance at the fact that the baby still hadn't come and she was still uncomfortable.

"I thought it would have progressed by now," Hermione said, sighing. She was sitting on the main sofa in the living room, almost lounging against it. "I've been having small contractions for days but it hasn't been anything more than a twinge."

"I felt twinges with James for a few weeks before."

"Don't say that," Hermione almost cried. "Weeks?"

"A week, maybe?" Ginny amended. She looked at Hermione sympathetically. "She'll be here within the week. I would put money on it."

Ron was starting to suspect that it would never happen. They'd waited for her for so long, and she still wasn't here. Why was their baby waiting so long to meet them?

Hermione settled back into the sofa, her expression showing that she wasn't at all impressed by Ginny's response. Perhaps she wanted to hear days, or hours. Not weeks.

Ginny looked at Ron, amusement on her face.

"You only look like that because you're not the one pregnant," he snapped at her. "And James came early, so you had less time to suffer."

That seemed to amuse Ginny even more, but she had the decency not to say anything. Her eyes flicked to where James had found a stack of old books they'd been meaning to dispose of for months and hadn't. He'd pulled them all out of the pile and was rubbing his grubby hands over the pages, giggling to himself.

Harry entered the living room, carrying a tray of teacups and a steaming pot of tea at its centre.

He set them down on the coffee table where he and Ron began handing them out.

It was good seeing them so close to Christmas, Ron thought as they sipped their tea and made idle conversation. As their lives progressed, the older they got, there were times where they didn't see each other outside of work for weeks. Especially now that children were involved in the equation, Harry and Ginny found their weekends were busy with trying to find things to do to keep James entertained. They'd taken him to the zoo, playgrounds and other things Ron and Hermione had been invited to.

They'd gone along at first, but the closer it got to the birth of their own child, the more challenging it was to go places.

Ron had probably last seen his sister three weeks ago when she'd dropped by to check on Hermione.

It was nearing three o'clock in the afternoon by this time, when Hermione suddenly sat up.

All heads turned to her, and she looked at Ron, eyes wide. "I almost forgot!" she exclaimed.

"Forgot what?" Ron questioned.

"We got James a Christmas present, remember? It's over by the… tree…" Getting the words out seemed to be a struggle for her, and Ron jumped to his feet to grab the present still wrapped up under the tree.

He turned back to give it to James, who now had his hands in the soil of a potted plant, but what James was doing quickly left his mind when he caught sight of Hermione. Something had suddenly changed in her expression. Ginny and Harry seemed to have noticed it, too.

Ginny, who was closest to her in that moment, said, "Hermione? Are you okay?"

Ron put down the present and came over to her. "Is it the baby?" he asked — a phrase he'd asked a million times over the past few days. But this time he knew it was different. He could tell.

"I don't know," Hermione said, her breath heavy.

"Another twinge?" Ron asked.

She shook her head. "No, it feels different this time." She ran her hand over her belly, frowning. "Stronger. Like maybe it was a real contraction."

Ron sat beside her, arm around her shoulders. "You think this is the real thing?" he asked, his heart beginning to beat rapidly against his chest.

Hermione shook her head, not speaking.

"How do you feel, Hermione?" Ginny asked, setting her cup of tea on the coffee table.

"I don't know," Hermione answered. "It's hard to explain, but it's just different." She frowned again, her hand staying on her tummy. "I do think that was a real contraction, though."

Ron squeezed her shoulder.

"What's your plan?" Ginny continued. "I mean… if it is the real thing, what's your next step?"

"To go to the hospital," Ron said. "The Muggle one. We need to call a taxi. They'll take us to the hospital. But not yet." He looked down at Hermione, whose eyes had almost glazed over in the sudden change of events. She appeared to be in great discomfort.

"Not yet?" Harry questioned.

"Well, if we go to the hospital too soon, they'll send us home." That was what Hermione had told him, what she'd learnt. You weren't supposed to go to the hospital until a few hours before, unless something was wrong.

"Is there anything we can do in the meantime?" Ginny asked, her voice calm. She'd been through this herself; she probably knew there was no point in panicking over it. Even if she'd not expected this when she'd stepped out of the Floo three hours ago.

Without answering, Hermione pressed her weight against Ron. It took him a moment to realise she was trying to stand up. He helped her, gripping her arm tightly and dragging her from the sofa.

She lasted three seconds on her feet before she gave an agonised cry and collapsed back onto the sofa.

"What happened?" Ron asked, concerned now.

But Hermione was unable to answer him. She gasped, clutching her stomach. Ginny shifted closer, also looking concerned.

"What's going on?" Ron questioned and he heard the panic in his voice. He'd read the books — at least parts of it — especially around labour and delivery. Everything he'd read told him that things were going to progress slow and steady, that things would build up gradually. Contractions could be hours apart early on. But the way Hermione was gasping, as if out of breath, didn't seem to be gradual.

"I think I'll drop James at the Burrow and go and get someone." Harry got to his feet. "I'll get a Healer. They'll be able to get here quicker than an ambulance."

"No," Hermione said weakly. "No, we decided on a Muggle hospital."

"Do you want me to call an ambulance?" Ron asked, squeezing her shoulders.

Hermione shook her head, another sharp gasp escaping her. "No. I want… I want you here. Harry… can."

Ron looked to Harry, who nodded and changed direction to the hall, where their phone was. He'd made it to the living room exit when Hermione gasped again, doubling over.

Harry stopped, staring at Hermione hunched over on the sofa. He walked back over, lifting James into his arms. "I'm taking James to the Burrow and getting a Healer," he said.

Hermione didn't argue this time, apparently concentrating on breathing through the pain. Ron gave Harry a short nod.

When Harry was gone, Ron knelt in front of Hermione, worried about this sudden turn of events. He was pleased, of course, that she finally seemed to be in labour, but he thought was meant to be a little more comfortable than what she was.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked gently, rubbing his hand up and down her thighs in what he hoped was comforting.

Hermione could only shake her head, sucking in a deep breath as she was once again hit with another contraction. She clutched at her stomach, rocking forward.

"Just breathe, Hermione," Ron encouraged, doing everything he could to keep himself calm. He hated seeing her in pain — he'd always known this would be the hardest part for him. He'd schooled himself in the past month, tried to tell himself he had to be calm for her. And he was managing it… for now.

He turned to his sister, pleading. "What should we do? We planned for the hospital, but… what do we do in the meantime?"

"Make her comfortable," Ginny said. "When I was like this, I just wanted to be comfortable." She hesitated.

"What?" Ron asked, returning to his stroking of Hermione, who seemed incapacitated and unable to speak.

"Well, I was in labour for a good ten hours before they got this close together."

"What do you mean?" Ron felt Hermione reach for his hands and squeeze them. He let her. "It's alright," he tried to soothe, doing his best to ignore his pumping heart and fear that was creeping up on him. He knew enough to know that Hermione wasn't supposed to be in this much pain — not when it had only been five minutes since she'd experienced the first contraction.

"I have counted four in about five minutes," Hermione said quietly. "It's almost constant."

"What does that mean?" Ron asked.

"When it was constant, James was born not long after."

Ron turned back to Hermione who wasn't even paying attention to them, so distracted by the unending agony she was in.

Get her up to bed," Ginny added. "It's the best place if… if she doesn't make it to the hospital."

Ron was starting to think that that might be inevitable. He nodded, tightening his hold on Hermione's hands. "Can you stand up?" he asked softly.

She nodded, her face red as sweat dripped down her forehead. She did her best to assist Ron in getting to her feet, Ginny also helping, but she only managed to get halfway up before she let out a cry of complete agony and collapsed back once more.

"I can't," she gasped. "I… oh, god." She cried again, startling even Ginny.

"Harry better get here soon," she said.

"It's alright. It's alright." Ron returned to kneeling in front of Hermione. "Harry's gone to get a Healer. They'll be here soon."

Tears streamed down Hermione's face and she choked out one sentence. "I think the baby's coming now."

"What?" Ron said, his heart starting to race again. "Just hang in there, Hermione. Harry will be back any moment with a Healer. You're okay. It's okay."

Panic reared up in him, but he had to keep it contained. For Hermione's sake. The baby couldn't come now. It wasn't supposed to happen so quickly. It hadn't even been ten minutes, unless he'd lost complete track of time. Harry wasn't back yet...

Hermione let out another cry and she lurched forward, falling onto her hands and knees on the floor. "The baby's coming," she sobbed.

Ron rubbed her back, glancing over his shoulder for Harry, but it was just the three of them. "Just hang in there, Hermione," he soothed, but he heard his voice catch on her name. "Just hang in there."

From his peripheral vision, he saw Ginny take out her wand. He had no idea what she was doing, but a moment later, a stack of towels landed in her lap.

"Take these," she said, shoving two into his hands.

Ron obliged, choosing not to question her.

Hermione sucked in a breath, rocking backwards and forwards. "She's coming, Ron. I can feel her. I don't think I can wait any longer." She was terrified, Ron could tell. This was not at all how they'd planned this moment.

"Hermione —"

Hermione groaned in a way Ron had never heard before. Her head was bowed, her eyes closed, and Ron was certain that even under normal circumstances, this wasn't supposed to happen. Not to Hermione, who had endured torture before.

Kneeling beside Hermione on the floor, Ginny gripped Hermione's shoulders. "Harry will be back any moment with a Healer," she soothed. "Any moment, I promise."

Hermione groaned again, which changed to a sob. "I can feel… oh god, I can feel her. Ron, please help." She was breathless, panting and rocking on her hands and knees.

"Help?" Ron questioned weakly. "What do you want me to do?"

"Get her out!" Hermione cried.

"What?" Ron glanced at Ginny, who could only shake her head in bewilderment.

"Get her out!" Hermione cried again. "Quickly!"

His heart had never beat so fast, thumping in his chest as if it were ready to jump out. Without much other thought, he and Ginny helped her over so her back was resting against the sofa. She immediately drew her knees up and Ron was horrified to see an awful amount of blood staining her pants.

Where are you, Harry? he screamed in his head.

He removed her shoes quickly, then slid off her pants, discarding them behind him.

"Ron," Ginny hissed. She had her arm around Hermione, using her other to brush the hair away from her face. "What are you doing? You're not really going to —"

"She said the baby's coming," Ron replied. He turned to his sister, searching for something in her eyes as to what else he could do. But Ginny looked as lost as he felt, both of them unsure on what else to do.

This wasn't right, Ron knew that. He had prepared enough for this moment to know that Hermione shouldn't be in this much pain. It had gone from zero to one hundred real quick, and now his wife was on the floor, incapacitated and in more pain than he'd ever seen her.

Another cry from Hermione brought their eyes back to her. She threw herself forward again, and instinct seemed to draw her back onto her hands and knees. It was comforting to see she at least had the strength for that. "Ron!" she cried.

"Hermione," Ginny said, though her voice wasn't as calm as it had been. She came to Hermione's front, holding her head close to her shoulder. "It's alright. Ron, what do we do?"

But Ron was too busy staring as another pool of blood came from Hermione and… and the baby's head.

He swore as Hermione moaned, her eyes closing and she buried her head against Ginny's shoulder.

"What is it?" Ginny asked.

"I can see the baby," he breathed, partly awestruck, partly stunned. In the space of ten minutes, Ron had gone from thinking his child would never get here to seeing the head of his daughter and no Healer or doctor in sight.

His heart left him in that moment, but he couldn't panic. He wanted to run away, hide in a corner and hope for a Healer to arrive, but the love he had for Hermione and his child kept him where he was.

He pushed the towels out of the way, knowing they were useless now.

Ginny was doing her best to keep Hermione calm, soothing her and whispering words Ron couldn't hear.

"I feel sick," Hermione moaned, her head still against Ginny's shoulder.

Ron also felt sick. He couldn't do this. He couldn't. But who else was going to? Harry hadn't come back with a Healer and the baby wasn't going to wait any longer.

"Ron?" Ginny breathed. "What —"

"Just help her," Ron said, looking across his wife's rocking body. Hermione seemed barely aware of herself, she was hurting so much. This wasn't right. This wasn't how a normal birth was supposed to go. She wasn't supposed to be hurting this much. "I need to… I need to get the baby out."

Ginny nodded and pressed her mouth to Hermione's ear. "You have to push, Hermione."

Hermione shook her head. "My body's… doing that for me."

"Hermione, you have to," Ron pleaded, his voice catching. "You have to do it for our daughter. Please do it for her."

"I… can't," she gasped.

"Yes you can," Ginny said. "I know it hurts. I know. But, you have to, Hermione. It'll stop soon, I promise. You just have to push."

Something in Ginny's words must have gotten through, because Hermione cried out in absolute agony, pressing herself completely into Ginny, and Ron saw the face of his daughter appear. The baby's shoulders came next, and Hermione cried out again and there was nothing else to it. The baby fell into Ron's waiting hands.

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was Hermione's panting. Then it was filled with the piercing screams of his daughter as her lungs took in their first gulps of air.

His heart lurched, feeling every emotion that existed from relief to shock to numbness. He just stared down at the bloody, messy form in his arms, unable to move.

"She's here," Ginny said with a smile. "She's here, safe and sound. Hermione, you did it. Your little girl is here."

His sister's voice snapped Ron back. Hermione's whole body was shaking from exhaustion. "Help her back so she can see," he instructed Ginny.

Awkwardly, Ginny maneuvered Hermione so her back was against the sofa once more.

With a smile, Ron wrapped the baby in one of the discarded towels as best he could and held her up for Hermione to see. "She's amazing."

The smile that filled Hermione's face was enough to tell him that she agreed. She looked so tired, but still found the energy to smile at their daughter. Despite the baby still being attached by the cord, he held her close to Hermione and was about to pass her over when the fireplace lit up with green flames and Harry emerged, followed immediately by a Healer.

The Healer wasted no time in tending to the baby. He took her out of Ron's arms, pulling out his wand. Ron sat back and watched, not at all phased by the blood that covered his hands or the floor, or even his clothes. All that mattered was the fact that, by some miracle, his daughter had made it into the world safely. It may have been crazy and unexpected, but she was here and she was perfect. Even covered in whatever the hell it was she was covered in, she was perfect.

He glanced up at Harry, who wore a bewildered expression. He had probably expected to come back to find Hermione still in labour, not her lying against Ginny and the baby screaming her little lungs out.

The Healer passed the baby back to Ron, the cord now severed. Ron felt the weight settle in his arms, the tiny form fitting perfectly. He had dreamed of this moment for so long — the moment he'd finally get to hold the child he'd wanted for so long. In a million fantasies, this had not been one of them, but the feeling was still the same.

He stared at her for a long moment, taking in every part of her face. Her nose, her ears, her tiny little mouth. His eyes then trailed to all ten fingers and all ten toes.

Perfect.

Smiling, he looked back up at Hermione, ready to finally pass their incredible creation to her. But Hermione's eyes closed just as he looked up, rolling into the back of her head.

"Hermione." He all but threw the baby into Ginny's arms as he shuffled towards his wife, shaking her shoulders. "Hermione." But she didn't respond.

The Healer was on his feet. "She needs to get to the hospital," he said. "She's lost a lot of blood. I'll arrange immediate transport." He took out what appeared to be a plain notebook and tapped it with his wand. Almost immediately, another Healer appeared in their house.

Ron had heard of the emergency Healer call that broke all Apparition enchantments and was glad that they had allowed it for their home.

The second Healer, a young woman, didn't say a word. She just knelt by Hermione and the two of them disappeared. Ron got to his feet, heading to the fireplace.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"To be with my wife."

"Ron, your daughter needs you." Ginny came over to him, gently rocking the crying baby in her arms. "Trust that Hermione's in good hands."

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry gripped his shoulder. "I'll go with her," he said. "You stay here. Be with your daughter. She can't be without both her parents."

Ron wanted to argue again, but seeing the face of his little girl stopped him. His chest swelled with love and he knew that he had to stay here with her. Hermione would never forgive him if he abandoned their child in favour of her.

He nodded and Ginny passed the baby back. The baby immediately quieted, and big round eyes stared up at him as if she was doing what he had done to her moments ago — taking in his every feature, every part of him.

My baby, he thought. This is my baby. Holding his little girl in his arms briefly settled the raging fear within him. Just seeing her perfect face and all its perfect features brought a calmness to him amongst the chaos that had been her birth.

Ginny came to stand beside him. "It's amazing, isn't it?" she said. "Holding them for the first time? There's nothing quite like it."

Ron could only nod, not wanting to take his eyes away from the perfect creation in his arms. If he looked up, if he saw the blood, he'd be reminded of what had happened. He'd be reminded that a Healer had taken his wife away before she'd even had the chance to hold her much wanted baby and he had absolutely no idea whether she was even okay.

Fear boiled inside him again and a tear trickled down his cheek.

Ginny patted his shoulder. "She'll be okay," she soothed. "She'll be fine. She's strong."

Ron sucked in a breath, not wanting to cry in front of his sister or his daughter, but he couldn't help it. His voice came out cracked and broken. "What… what went wrong?"

"I don't know," Ginny answered softly.

The remaining Healer heard and approached them. "She has lost a lot of blood. Your wife has most likely suffered from severe blood loss, as well as shock from an intense and fast birth."

"Will she be okay?" Ron asked; pleaded.

The Healer nodded. "I believe so." His eyes fell on the baby. "I'll give the baby a full check over now."

Ron hesitated, but after a gentle nudge from Ginny, he once again passed the baby back over.

Ginny knelt on the ground and spread out another of the towels she'd Summoned in what suddenly seemed like hours ago when in reality it had been minutes. The Healer knelt and placed the baby on it.

Ron could only stand back and watch as the Healer ran his wand over the baby, muttering spells and seeing different coloured sparks appear from its end.

"Did this happen to you?" Ron asked Ginny as they watched on.

Ginny shook her head. "No. My labour was slow."

"What about the blood…"

Again, Ginny shook her head.

"Why do things keep going wrong for us?" Feeling suddenly exhausted, Ron collapsed onto the sofa, and Ginny joined him, a comforting hand on his back.

"They haven't gone wrong, Ron," she said. "They just haven't gone as you planned. You have your daughter, don't you?"

"At the expense of my wife," Ron cried.

"She will be okay. The Healer said she will be okay. It was just hard for her. Intense. Incredibly intense and fast."

Ron shook his head, running his hand over his face. "It couldn't just go normally, could it?"

"It doesn't matter how it happened," Ginny said. "The point is that you have your daughter and she is healthy. You're a father, Ron. Think about that."

Ron lowered his hands and turned his attention back to the Healer. The child was content, and after he had finished checking her over, he wet a third towel with his wand and tenderly began cleaning the baby up.

As all the blood came away, Ron was able to see his daughter more clearly. Her legs and arms thrashed about uncontrollably, her face screwed up, and she started to cry again. But she was so, so beautiful.

"She looks like you."

"You think?"

"Well, she has the Weasley at least."

Ginny was right. His daughter had hair like him. Little tufts of red were appearing on her head as the Healer dried her hair.

The Healer finally finished his check and picked her up. He passed her back to Ron, who took her eagerly.

"Considering she went through something very traumatic, she is perfectly healthy," he said kindly.

"Thank you," Ron replied. His daughter squirmed in his arms before settling.

"You're a natural," Ginny said, smiling. "She needs some clothes, though."

"Upstairs," was all Ron managed to say.

While Ginny went to get clothes and the Healer packed up his things, Ron sat with his daughter. She was everything and more than he'd imagined. Already, every part of him was filled with love for her. He'd never loved someone so much in his life and he'd only known her for a few minutes.

"I can't quite believe you're mine," he said quietly.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she soon drifted off into a peaceful sleep. He watched her, unable to take his eyes away. From her nose, to her fingers, to her tiny little ears.

And the rosiest little cheeks he had ever seen.

Thank you Autumn (insertcleverandwittytitlehere) for going over this and offering ideas based on your own experience! My personal birth experience was being put under general anesthetic for an emergency C-Section before even reaching active labour so this is NOT based off my own experiences.

This took a lot of goes to get right, but I've always had a head canon that Hermione had a super quick birth with Rose and Ron was the one to bring her into the world. I just wasn't sure on the right way to write it!

I hope you liked the way this unfolded and apologies for the cliff hanger!