Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, many characters would not have died in the last book… sobs

Anyway, on with the story!

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Harry Potter had faced Voldemort more than any other wizard had, but the sight of his wife Ginny in childbirth was possibly even scarier. He didn't quite know how to act. Should he brush the strands of bright red hair away from her hot, sticky brow, or take her hand and somehow try to encourage her? Instead he just dithered by the doorway, occasionally glancing at her to check she wasn't dying or that the baby hadn't been born without him knowing. He didn't know what it was about childbirth that freaked him out so much – it wasn't all the blood and the screaming (he had been there at the Battle of Hogwarts after all) and it wasn't seeing the love of his life suffering (again, he had been there to see her duel Death Eaters and escape death by inches.) It was more the fact that he couldn't do anything. Harry liked to be the hero.

Thankfully, half an hour later, it was all over. He was relieved. His second son had been born happy and healthy. He walked over to the bed, where Ginny lay, exhausted, beaming a weak, yet just as joyful grin. Harry bent down to kiss her, feeling that familiar shiver of excitement from deep within him that awoke every time he was close to her.

"Nice one" he croaked, feeling all powers of speech leave him as he finally caught sight of the baby.

His son had black hair, like his and his father before him, and he had the same tiny turned up nose as Ginny. But, Harry realised with a start, he had bright green eyes. The eyes, Harry thought, the eyes that to him, represented the love his mother had had for him, the protection she had given him, and the love Severus Snape had had for her. Harry swallowed. He hadn't let himself think of anything to do with the battle, anyone who had died. He'd tried to let the jubilation he had felt at the downfall of Voldemort overcome any grief, but that hadn't been able to stop the dreams in which the bodies of people he had loved were entwined with headless snakes and tiaras.

Harry swallowed, suppressing his feelings, and looked deeper into the baby's eyes, trying to read them. They seemed to hold so much more wisdom, so much more history, so much more emotion now he had given them a significance. He touched the baby's forehead, brushing back his soft black hair, taking in every detail, smiling at the lack of a lightning bolt shaped scar. His child would have a normal life, unlike him. This child would not know death Eaters and horcruxes and basilisks and pointless deaths.

Harry's reverie was interrupted as the door opened. Ron Weasley walked in, not knowing quite where to look, clutching a bunch of flowers that his wife Hermione had conjured seconds before. She followed him into the room, herself heavily pregnant with their first baby, and her face alive with a million different hopes and dreams.

"Ginny! Congratulations!" she squealed in a very un-Hermione-ish manner, before making her way over to meet the new arrival, her hands stroking her own round stomach absent-mindedly.

"Congrats mate." Ron smiled nervously. He had grown even taller since they were all seventeen, and though he had filled out slightly, still resembled some kind of ginger beanstalk.

"Oh don't worry Ron, it'll be you soon." Harry said, grinning at the expression on his best friend's face.

"Bloody hell." Ron whispered, careful not to let Hermione hear him. "I don't know how they do it. All that, pain, and blood, and…baby stuff."

"Just think Ron!" came Hermione's delighted squeak. "We're next!"

"Didn't manage to beat us though!" Ginny said, in a weak yet still teasing voice. "We had James three years ago. How does it feel Ron, having your kid sister beat you to it?"

"Just because we aren't at it constantly!" Ron retorted, as his ears flushed bright red. Hermione giggled, before pulling herself away from the baby and kissing Ron gently. Ginny and Harry pretended not to see, and busied themselves by looking at their new son.

"We need a name…" Ginny murmured softly.

Harry had been thinking of names in the weeks that had led up to the birth, but all of the possibilities he had considered seemed to have fallen out of his head. He looked at his son again, studying his face for clues, any ideas as to what to name him. He kept being drawn to the eyes, their glittering green almost entrancing him. But then again, there was some kind of sparkle there, that reminded him of someone completely different to his mother.

"Dumbledore…" he thought. The eyes seemed to twinkle in agreement, prompting Harry to smile once again.

"Albus. He should be called Albus." he whispered. Ginny nodded, herself remembering.

"After the greatest headmaster of Hogwarts?" she replied.

"Yeah."

Harry was satisfied with this name. Albus Potter did seem to have a certain ring to it. Albus Potter, son of Harry and Ginny Potter. Al for short.

Ginny cleared her throat, attempting to announce the name. But suddenly, wildly, Harry felt as if something was terribly wrong. He grabbed her shoulder to stop her. Ginny looked at Harry, confusion flitting across her face.

Albus made so much sense, thought Harry. Then why did it seem so, incomplete? To name him after Dumbledore, the greatest mentor Harry had ever known seemed so right… and then he realised.

"Ginny." Harry whispered, as if he were in a church. "Let's not name him after the greatest headmaster. Let's name him after the two greatest headmasters."

Ginny furrowed her brow, before understanding exactly what Harry meant. She nodded, feeling a tear glistening in her eye. Urgh, hormones, she thought. Maybe it was seeing her husband so happy, she thought. Ginny wasn't the type of witch to let people walk all over her, but she knew she would be right to let Harry choose his children's names. . She didn't care what her children were called, as long as they were happy. After having grown up in a huge family, she felt she owed it to Harry to be able to live his dream, and if picking their names made him happy then she'd let him. After all, wasn't that what a relationship was about? Making the other happy. Harry felt her squeeze his hand, and he knew she understood exactly what he was thinking.

"Erm, everyone?" Harry said.

Ron and Hermione broke apart, their faces as pink as if they had just kissed for the first time.

"We have a name. Ron, Hermione, meet Albus Severus Potter. "

"Bloody hell…" Ron muttered, shaking his head in a mock-disappointed fashion.

"What?"

"If you told me ten years ago you were naming your kid after Snape, I'd have checked to see if you'd been Imperiused."

Harry laughed, fingering his scar. It was weird, he admitted to himself, considering how he had hated Snape for the majority of his time at Hogwarts, but when he thought of him, he didn't see the tunnel-like black eyes and see points being taken from Gryffindor for no reason. He could see a boy, watching a redheaded girl in a playground, a silver doe patronus, a glittering silver sword buried in a frozen pool. He could see himself on a bucking broomstick, where in the background a hook-nosed man uttered the counter curse to save him. A man with long black greasy hair, shielding him from a werewolf ready to attack, a man who would do anything to save the child of a woman he had loved all his life and lost in every way it was possible to lose. A man who had taken wrong turnings in life, but ultimately a man who made a sacrifice to avenge the death of Lily Evans.

"I think it suits him." Harry whispered, careful not to wake the now-sleeping baby.