“NO RONALD WEASLEY WE ARE NOT CALLING OUR BABY MORAN, I DON’T CARE IF SHE IS THE MOST TITLED QUIDDITCH PLAYER IN THE WORLD!” Hermione screamed clutching her belly and doubling over in pain, the contractions coming quicker and Ron getting more annoying by the second.
“Come off it Hermione, our baby would have one of the greatest namesakes in Quidditch history and it works for boys and girls,” he slipped in hoping it would win his wife’s approval.
“NO!” Hermione screamed out, “NEVER EVER, NOT IF SHE HAD BEATEN EVERYWORLD RECORD AND WAS GOD REINCARNATE!”
“NO!” Hermione screamed so loudly that the healer walking past the door jumped and Ron looked at him and received a sympathetic glance.
“Okay, so we won’t call the baby Moran,” he said.
“You’re a moron,” Hermione mumbled under her breath, her hand still tucked under her belly.
Ron slumped back in the chair as Hermione stood over the bottom of the bed and gripped tightly to the rail, her knuckles going white as the contraction ripped through her. How could he bring up that again at a time like this! And surely the wizarding world would have figured some potion to stop this pain by now!
Hermione let out another scream and shot a glare over to Ron who with a grimace got up, hurried over to her and started to awkwardly rub her lower back. She grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly and Ron (to his misfortune) let out a yelp which earning him another glare and a jumble of swearwords mixed in with the explanation of if he wasn’t going to be of any use he had better get out and call Ginny before she found her wand (which he had hidden for his own protection) and turned him into some sort of fluffy animal that she could bounce off the floor.
“He doesn’t need to call me, I’m already here,” Ginny’s voice rang out through the room.
Hermione turned to see her waltz in with her hair in a perfect ponytail, skinny jeans and shirt. She was too busy hating her best friend for looking so gorgeous when Hermione’s hair was a ball of frizz, her fringe was plastered to her forehead, her skin had a disgusting sheen of sweat over it and she felt like a whale, she didn’t notice the big basket she held in her arms.
It turned out Ginny had been accosted by her mother and handed potions to ease pain, soft flannels to wipe away the sweat and baby clothes for when the whole ordeal was over and Hermione could hold her new born in her arms.
“Gin,” Hermione breathed in the few seconds break between her contractions.
“Don’t worry,” Ginny said calmly, “it will be worth it in the end.” The girl smiled thinking of her own one-year-old son back at home with his father who was no doubt teaching him something or other that he shouldn’t be.
“It hurts,” Hermione groaned.
“I know,” Ginny soothed, “and Ron will you please do something useful.”
“Like what!” Ron asked, at a loss at what to do, he hated seeing her in pain but he couldn’t do anything to stop it.
“Hold her hand, stupid.”
“The last time I did that she…”
Ginny shot a glare at Ron that reminded him so much of his mother that he did exactly what Ginny said while she busied herself with the basket. Hermione was glad that there was at least one person who knew what was going on even if her husband was a complete moron who wanted to name her baby Moran… a stupid name thought up by an even stupider man!
“Make the pain stop,” Hermione sobbed, leaning her head onto her arm and letting the tears fall onto her skin.
“Oh honey, it doesn’t work like that I’m afraid, but here drink up this will help,” Ginny said putting a glass to Hermione’s mouth and tipping the sweet tasting liquid down her throat.
It might not have helped the pain much but it helped Hermione relax and for that she felt better, well a little woozy really, actually quite woozy…
She tottered over to the bed and lay down on the sheets. Vaguely she heard Ginny calling one of the healers and Ron stroking back her soaked hair.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, “you’re nearly there.”
But Hermione didn’t feel nearly there, she felt like the pain was never going to end, like it would just carry on until it killed her. And then she heard it, that sentence that she had been waiting for for hours on end.
“Mrs Weasley, you need to push.”
She was lying there quietly, her small chest rising and falling; her legs kicking lightly against the cotton baby grow in which she was clad. She was sleeping and she had been most of the two days since Hermione had given birth. Sleeping and feeding and needing her nappy changed, something that had Ron looking traumatised the whole way through the ‘ordeal.’ Of course now she wasn’t crying Hermione knew that Ron would think she was an angel again.
It was strange, it was all gone, all the cramps and searing pains and everything was centred around her. Hermione just couldn’t stop looking at her, she couldn’t take her eyes from the tiny sleeping face. Ron had gone to get a drink with his sister and Hermione knew that she should be resting, sleeping even but she couldn’t move from the window.
Her cot was set by the window, the sun falling on the baby’s skin. Sun was good for her apparently and the mild summer beams made her cheeks all the rosier and her little pink mouth all the more beautiful. She was the most perfect little thing and Hermione didn’t want to be away from her for one second no matter what she could be doing in that second. To go from needing to be busy for every moment of the day to being satisfied with just watching her baby sleep was almost unthinkable to Hermione but it was true.
“She looks like you,” Ron’s voice whispered in her ear.
“How?” Hermione asked, “she is just a baby.”
“She is pulling the same facial expressions you do when you sleep,” he laughed.
Hermione watched her daughter pout and dribble a little and looked over at her husband.
“I do not pull those faces in my sleep,” she said pretended to be offended but relishing the fact she could laugh with him in this moment.
“I think you would find that you do.”
The hand he had snaked around her waist held her close to him and Hermione nuzzled her head into his neck, still not taking her eyes from her daughter. This was her daughter, her family. She had worked so hard for so long to build and environment for a family and when Ginny had had James she couldn’t help but turn to Ron and ask for a family of their own.
She hadn’t imagined her husband to want to be a dad as much as he had but from the moment she told him she was pregnant he had been a devoted father. He had looked after her so well; he had learned to cook from his mother so Hermione could put her feet up after work, he had gone to the shops at stupid hours for ice lolly’s when Hermione’s cravings went through the roof. He lived through her mood swings and looked after her whether she was sad, scared or angry and now they had a beautiful baby girl to show for all his dedication.
“Come on,” Ron said gently pulling Hermione away from the cot and towards the bed, “you need to rest.”
“No buts, she is fine, she is sleeping.”
Hermione relented and let Ron lead her to the bed and tuck her under the covers. He was being sweet and Hermione was glad that it hadn’t stopped just because she had had the baby. They sat for a while and talked, he held her hand and stroked the skin gently.
A healer came in to check on her and the baby and eventually Hermione did rest but it was short when she was woken by the sharp cry of a hungry little girl. Hermione fed her as Ron laughed at the notion of human milk.
“It is completely natural Ronald,” Hermione laughed, covering the baby’s head with a blanket as she fed.
“Yeah but it’s like…weird,” he replied running the back of his finger down his daughter’s leg. He was as bad as Hermione, couldn’t stop marvelling at what he had helped create.
“It’s convenient and easy and he last I checked the Wizarding world didn’t do powdered baby milk.”
“True,” he laughed as Hermione stopped feeding and lifted the baby to burp her.
“We really need to name her,” Hermione told Ron as she rubbed the little girls back and the baby was slightly sick down the towel she was using.
Settling the baby back into her arms Hermione handed the sick towel to Ron who turned up his nose but put it in the plastic bag that held the clothes the baby had already been sick on.
“I still think…”
“No Ron, I am not going through this again,” Hermione snapped moving her gaze to the window where the summer sun streamed through, summertime really was in bloom.
“Summer?” Hermione asked.
“No,” Ron said, “she doesn’t look as innocent as that.”
“She looks completely innocent,” Hermione protested wondering how he could come to that conclusion when faced with the baby in her arms.
“Nah, she’s gonna have the Weasley streak I can feel it.”
“What about naming her after your mother?” Ron shrugged thinking about how Percy had called his now five-year-old daughter Molly.
“What Jean? No I think I’ll pass, I love my mum and all but it is an old name, and my middle name to boot, no thanks. I always liked Lily but Harry would hex us into next year if we used that,” Hermione laughed.
“Rebecca?” Ron asked after some thinking.
“Too plain,” Hermione replied glancing around the room for inspiration but she found nothing and handed the sleepy child over to Ron and settled down under her covers to sleep a little while longer.
When she woke for the second time Ron was still in the room but so was his mother and his father as well as Ginny and Harry. Harry was talking to Ron and Mrs Weasley was holding the baby. An instant pang shot through Hermione, a need to hold her daughter, to not let anyone else near her but she knew she was being silly. Mrs Weasley was her Grandmother and Grandmothers needed to see their granddaughters.
“Hermione,” Ginny said when she saw the girl was awake, “we bought you some flowers.”
“Thank you Gin,” said and let her eyes wander over to the table where more than one bunch of flowers lay. She could tell which bunch were Ginny’s.
Everyone had been sending flowers and presents. There was a big hamper of baby essentials and some bath bath products and chocolates from her mum and dad and a big beautiful plant from Neville as well as some sort of odd baby mobile that I the letter from Luna had said it would bring protection to the baby.
And then there were the card. Hundreds of cards that she and Ron had opened as they poured in just hours after the news had broken that a baby girl had been born. Some of them had been from friends like Dean and Seamus but most of them were from complete strangers who simply wanted to wish them and their new baby well.
“She is beautiful Hermione,” Mr Weasley said looking over at his daughter in law, “have you decided on a name yet?”
“No yet,” Ron laughed, “we are a bit stuck on that one.”
“You will figure it out soon enough,” Mrs Weasley said, “it took us over a week to figure out what to call you, it had been hard enough to settle on Fred and George after three boys already.”
She handed the baby back to Hermione who took the fidgeting child and clutched her close. She was awake but quiet, looking up at her mother as if she was something fascinating. Hermione hoped that looked would never go away.
Mrs Weasley gathered her things and glanced out the window.
“Ginny and Percy were summer babies,” she said, “they always seem to be calmer babies in the summer…” The woman’s eyes were a little glossed over but she quickly shook it out of her head and smiled at Hermione.
“Come over when you are allowed to go home,” she said.
“We will mum,” Ron said, “Hermione’s blood pressure is just a big high, they want to keep her in for observation, as soon as we are home we will come in.”
Hermione didn’t pay much attention to the group leaving, not even when Ginny tried to say something to her. In the end she just gave up and the three left so Hermione and Ron were alone with their unnamed baby.
As she held her and Ron babbled on about something or other Hermione couldn’t help but keep her eyes on the flowers Ginny had left. A big bunch of summer roses that started off orange and ran up until their tips were pink. They were like a beautiful sunset.
“Rose,” was the only word Hermione said. It cut Ron off mid-sentence.
“Her name, let’s call her Rose,” she said looking up at him. He stared at her blankly for a few moments then broke into a smile.
“Not too wimpy I guess, and roses are red… fits,” he laughed pointing to his hair and then to the thin wisps of ginger on the baby’s head.
Hermione looked down at her daughter. Rose. After everything, everything they had been through, everything that had happened to them they were safe and happy and had a beautiful baby. A beautiful Rose.
I hope you enjoyed, please read and review, i thrive off reviews =) If you enjoyed this then please take a look at my novel Facing Fate, the sequel to which has been posted! thank you x
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