Allow us to skip a few months in the timeline. Hermione and Ginny were both happily nesting their little eggs as their husbands went after evil witches and wizards. Every mission made Ron nervous. He had missed the first part of Hermione's pregnancy and he did not want to be out of commission for the last.

"I trust you'll come back to me," Hermione said one morning when sending her husband off to France on another mission. And he did.

Reluctantly, Hermione had taken maternity leave from her job at the Department of (whatever her job is). Ron, Harry, and Quigley, her boss, had to practically force her to take it. Her boss promised the position would be there when she got back and they wouldn't move further on the house-elf rights without her. She had a feeling that was because no one, unfortunately, cared for it like her.

Not as reluctantly Ron had allowed them to give him desk duty in Hermione's final weeks. He was not going to get hurt and be incapacitated during her time if he could help it. And boy had he been there. He was driving Hermione crazy with the amount of being there that he did.

"I'm fine, Ron!" She said exasperated one day after dinner when he wouldn't let her carry her plate to the sink. "I don't need to use magic for every little thing!" She slammed the plate down on the counter, causing it to break, and stormed off to the sitting room.

"Hey, hey," Ron sat down on the couch rubbing Hermione's shoulder after she began to cry. "I fixed the plate."

"I'm sorry." Hermione laid her head on Ron's chest as he leaned back against the couch. "This pregnancy has me so emotional."

"I'm not helping by breathing down your neck all the time."

"That's for sure," she muttered.

"I heard that," Ron grinned. "Why don't you go to bed and I'll clean up the kitchen."

Hermione nodded. She hated the wave of emotions her hormones were sending her through.

Early that morning, with Ron snoring beside her, Hermione crawled out of bed. First she went to the loo, and then she tiptoed into the kitchen. Ron had sent her to bed hours ago but she'd had a hard time sleeping. She was too big to get comfortable and her moods were constantly shifting causing her thoughts to run amok.

Hermione fixed herself a cup of tea and sat in the sitting room. The baby in her belly didn't move much anymore. Hermione suspected it was because there just wasn't enough room in there to move. Everything was crowded with a full grown baby and organs and such. She rubbed a spot she felt the baby's feet press.

The next morning Hermione woke up to bright beautiful sunshine from the window in her bedroom. She didn't remember going back to bed, but she must have. She also must have slept in late because Ron's spot in the bed was empty. Slept in. Worn. But, empty.

Yawning, she sat up slowly spotting the clock on the bedside table.

"9:13!" She laughed to herself. She couldn't believe she'd slept in. The past few weeks she'd been having trouble sleeping and the thought of sleeping in had become a joke.

"Ron's gone off to work and he's not left me a note," she said to herself as she headed to the loo, a very familiar place at this point.

.O.

That evening Ron entered the house through the front door what with them not having a floo. The house was pretty quiet.

"Hermione?" He called out softly.

What he found was Hermione, still in her pajamas, asleep on the couch in the sitting room.

"Oh, hey, Ron," she said when he headed towards the kitchen. "I'm not asleep."

Ron turned around and sat on the edge of the couch next to his wife.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, just feel a little funny."

"You're still in your pajamas," he pointed out.

"Yeah, hey, if you were nine months pregnant you wouldn't feel like getting dressed either."

"I'm sorry."

"You better be," Hermione grinned. "This is your entire fault."

"What's for dinner?" Ron asked.

Hermione scowled. "Is that all you can think about? Food? Ron Weasley, you do not surprise me one bit."

"You need to eat, too." He helped Hermione into a sitting position.

"Careful, Ron, I'm feeling a little queasy."

"Was it something I did? Anything I can do, is there?" He stood up. "I'll—I'll do the cooking, you just tell what to do."

"Ron—"

"No, it's fine. You sit at the table and just tell me what to do." Ron reached his hand out to help Hermione up. "The smell of the food will bother you, won't it?"

"I can—" she grunted trying to hoist herself up. "I can do this myself." A few seconds later she managed to get to her feet. "The smell shouldn't bother me, thanks for your concern."

Ron pulled his wand out of his pocket as he led Hermione to the kitchen table.

"You sit here," he helped her sit in a seat facing the kitchen. "And I'll go here. OK…"

"Wave your wand like this." Hermione demonstrated a movement in slow motion. "And repeat after me-mittis integrum crudam."

"Mittis integrum crudam," Ron repeated while copying the motion of Hermione's wand. An entire raw chicken fell out on the counter before him.

"OK, and then you w-wa-wave your wand like this," Hermione grunted.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, just wave your wand like this…you know the spell to cook a chicken, do you not?"

Ron looked sheepishly at his wife.

"Right, I forgot you are helpless." She gave Ron a smile. "We're going to bake the chicken. That's all right with you?"

"That's fine. Baked chicken sounds easy enough."

"Right. Wave your wand like this—" Hermione went for a circle but felt a sharp pain causing her to dip her arm into her side.

Ron copied her movement exactly.

"I don't remember my mom doing anything resembling this."

"Right, sorry. Just follow this—" Hermione waved her wand in a circle and then dropped it.

Ron followed. After dropping his wand he glanced at Hermione who was doubled over in her seat.

"Merlin, are you okay?" He rushed over to her.

"I'm—I'm—" She groaned.

"You're—you're—" Ron wiped his brow. "You're in labor," he finished pathetically.

Hermione nodded slowly as her face contorted in pain.

Helping her to her feet after the contraction passed Ron led his wife back to the couch in the sitting room.

"I—I—" he stumbled.

"Contact my midwitch."

Ron reached into his pockets. He patted his butt. He looked at his empty hands.

"Your—your wand is in the kitchen."

"Oh, right." Ron stumbled into the kitchen and reappeared a few seconds later holding Hermione's wand.

"That's my wand."

He looked at the brown stick in his hand.

"Oh, right." He turned to head back into the kitchen.

"It's all right. You just n-need to contact my midwitch. You know how to do that?"

"With that message thing my dad set up."

"Right."

After sending out his Jack Russell, he sat down next to Hermione.

"Ron," she grunted.

"Oh. Oh!" he jumped up. "Is there anything I need to do? What do you need? Oh, I'm bad at this."

"Calm down. You're not bad. Contact your parents and tell them they need to pick up my parents. Send my parents an owl."

"Done." Ron ran over to the desk, grabbed some parchment, and scribbled something on there with a quill. "Oberon!" He called out.

"Ron…"

"Oh right, that's Harry and Ginny's owl. Pig!"

Pig flew downstairs and allowed Ron to attach the letter to his leg.

"Take this to Hermione's parents."

Ron ran back to Hermione.

"You need anything?"

"Have you—" she closed her eyes in pain. "Have you contacted your parents, yet?"

"Oh right!"

"Ron," Hermione reached for his hand. "Take a deep breath."

Right before he had a chance, the front door opened.

"Mrs. Weasley?" A chipper voice called out.

"The midwitch," Hermione whispered.

"There's the lovely mother and father-to-be. So you say you're in labor."

To answer her question Hermione groaned through another contraction.

"To the bedroom," the midwitch ordered.

While she got things straightened out with Hermione, Ron sent off another terrier message to his parents. After thinking about it, he also sent one to Harry and Ginny.

Five minutes later Harry entered the flat without knocking on the door.

"Congratulations, mate!" He clapped Ron on the shoulder.

"Yeah, right, thanks," Ron said absentmindedly.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, yeah."

"Why don't you sit down? Let me get you a glass of water."

"I'm fine." He looked around. "Where's Ginny?"

"With James. She'll be over later."

"Yeah," Ron sighed.

"So, er, let's go check on Hermione?" Harry suggested.

"Oh, yeah, right, right." Ron stood up quickly and then fell back down on the couch.

"Seriously, mate, let me get you some water."

After Harry procured Ron a glass and Ron gulped it all down, they went back to the master bedroom where Hermione lay in bed looking a bit uncomfortable.

"It looks like it could be soon," the midwitch informed them.

"S-soon? How soon?" Ron fumbled.

"She's nearing time."

"N-nearing t-time." Ron collapsed on the bed.

"Is he all right?" Hermione asked.

"Nervous is all," Harry answered. "Oh, hey, I think I hear your parents downstairs. Let me go see to them." He rushed out the door.

"Ron, it's going to be just fine," Hermione reassured.

"How can you be so calm?" He sat up with his head against the same pillow Hermione had her head up against.

"I gave her a potion," the midwitch explained. "I'll let you two alone and be back in a bit."

"Are you really all right?"

"Ron, this is perfectly natural."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Hey, baby," Hermione's mom entered the room.

"Hey, Mum."

"Looks like I'm going to be a grandmother soon."

"Yes."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine, Mum. Is Dad here?"

"Yes, he's didn't want to bother you."

"He's no bother."

"Hello, Ron."

"Hello, Dr. Granger," Ron greeted his mother-in-law. "I'll just be…I'll just…I'll go check on Dr. Granger." Ron fled the room quite quickly causing both Hermione and her mother to laugh.

"He's never going to stop being nervous around you and Dad, is he?"

"I suspect not. He's nothing to worry about. We love him almost as much as we love you."

"I wish you'd tell him that."

Dr. Granger nodded.

"Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine."

Mother and daughter talked for a few minutes until they were interrupted by the other Dr. Granger, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry, and Ron.

"There's the lovely mother-to-be," Mrs. Weasley gushed. "How are you, Dear?"

"Fine," Hermione replied.

"We just wanted to say hello before you have the baby. Your midwitch says it could be any minute now," her father said. "Do you need anything?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"We care about you."

Ron had a feeling Hermione was getting irritated and he wanted to usher everyone out but before he got a chance the midwitch rushed into the room.

"All right, all right, everyone except Mum and Dad out."

Ron's eyes widened. He knew what was about to come.

"It's time," the midwitch said when everyone left the room. Ron's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he passed out.

"There you are, sweetie," Hermione said when Ron woke up.

Ron was now lying on the bed. He turned over to see Hermione holding a small little bundle in her arms.

"Meet your daughter."

"M-my daughter?" Ron sat up straighter. "We have a daughter? A daughter?"

"Yes, Ron, we have a daughter."

"I'm—oh Merlin, I missed that, too, didn't I?"

"It's fine, Ron."

"I wasn't there in the beginning and now I'm not here at the end."

"Ron! Don't beat yourself up. You passed out. It's all right. I had my midwitch."

"No, no," Ron stopped when he got a good look at his daughter. "She looks like you."

"I reckon she has your nose."

Ron's hands flew up to his rather large nose causing Hermione to laugh.

"Only joking."

"What's her name?"

"I thought we'd come up with that together."

"Hyacinth," Ron blurted.

"Hya—what?"

"Hyacinth, Hermione, we've been arguing about this for months."

"Right and you know I want to name her Daisy."

Ron narrowed his eyes. Yes, they had this exact same conversation for months. Ron loved the name Hyacinth and Hermione wouldn't budge from Daisy.

"You hold her for minute," Hermione offered handing the newly born baby to her father.

Ron carefully took hold of his daughter as Hermione placed her gently into his arms. She was without a doubt the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on. He couldn't get over it. He was in love.

"Rose," he whispered.

"What?"

"Rose," he said louder. "She's beautiful and delicate, like a Rose." Ron ran a finger over her tiny little soft hand. "Remember those roses after our breakup?"

"And the one rosebud yet to bloom."

"She reminds me of that rose, yet to bloom."

"That's so sweet. Yes." Hermione kissed Ron's cheek and then the head of the baby. "This is our daughter, Rose."

"Rose Hermione Weasley."