'That's it!' George exclaimed. 'You're not allowed to deal with customers until I say so!'

'You can't do that!' protested Ron.

'I bloody well can,' snapped George. 'I'm still your older brother!' George glowered up at Ron, who stood more than a head taller. 'Don't make me get Mum,' he threatened.

'You wouldn't!' gasped Ron.

'Try me,' challenged George. 'You're lucky I don't send you home the way you've been snapping at customers lately.' Someone came into the shop and George hissed, 'Don't move…' He hurried to help the little girl find a birthday present for her brother at Hogwarts. Ron, meanwhile, sulkily restocked the Muggle magic tricks shelf, shooting George irritated looks. George walked the little girl to the door, chatting about this and that. When the girl had left he turned around to Ron. 'Look, Ron, I understand how crazy things can get at home, especially since she's like a million years pregnant. But that doesn't mean you can come here and take it out on customers. You want to yell at someone that's not Hermione, fine, I get it. I even understand it. But you have got to stop making grown wizards cry like that!'

Ron said nothing, but stalked into the back, behind the curtain and up the stairs. He flopped on the sofa, shifting automatically to his right as the broken spring jabbed his kidney. He was tired. He leaned his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. A nap wouldn't be out of order. Hermione wasn't sleeping very well, and consequently, Ron didn't sleep well. Ron had prided himself on his ability to sleep through anything, but lately, someone could have dropped a quill on a carpet, and Ron would have woken up at the sound. He felt the sofa give slightly as someone joined him. Ron opened on eye, and saw Harry lounging on the sofa. 'What?'

'Troubles in paradise?' Harry removed his glasses and held them up to the light, polishing the lenses.

'You could say that,' Ron sighed. 'Her favorite quill broke last night, and she started crying. Not just that quick hormonal crying, but really crying.' He rubbed his eyes. 'I swear, she's going to the loo every fifteen minutes. I'll make dinner, and she'll pick at it, only to have her head in the refrigerator ten minutes after I've done the washing up. She's hungry, but doesn't know what she wants. She can't get comfortable enough to sleep…' Ron turned his head to look at Harry. 'Please, I'm begging you, tell me it gets better.'

'Oh, boy.' Harry slowly exhaled. 'Sort of…'

Ron sat up, wild-eyed. 'What do you mean, "sort of"? Have you any idea what kind of hell it's been the past two months?!'

'Actually, I do,' Harry reminded Ron pointedly. 'You think Gin's all sweetness and light when she's pregnant? She Bat-Bogied me when I forgot to pick up a carton of milk on the way home a month before James was born. Do you know how hard it is to get decent strawberries in March? Or has Hermione banned a certain food from the house because it makes her ill?' When Ron shook his head, Harry continued. 'Right. Ginny wouldn't even let me eat my most favorite pudding the world. It wasn't enough to ban it from the house; I wasn't even allowed to eat it outside the house. And why, you may ask? Because treacle tart made her nauseous and she could smell it on me!' Harry blinked and looked down. He hadn't realized he stood up. Flopping back down on the sofa, he nudged Ron with an elbow. 'Yeah, I do know how hard the last bit is.'

'So does it get easier?' Ron asked, desperation written on his face.

Harry sighed. 'Not really. Whole set of different issues.'

'Merlin's bollocks,' Ron breathed faintly, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. The skin around his eyes stretched out whitely, and he swallowed heavily.

'Put your head between your knees,' Harry ordered, putting a hand between Ron's shoulder blades, pushing his head down. Ron's back wasn't moving. 'Breathe!' Ron gasped loudly as he inhaled. Harry continued, 'Listen mate, I wouldn't say it gets better. But it's different.'

'How?' Ron croaked.

'Well, after a while, the hormones go away, and she won't have the highs and lows so much. You'll still won't want to tell her that her trousers make her bum look fat, but you ought not to do that anyway. And it won't be all her anymore.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Ron sighed. 'I've been there the entire time. I rub feet. I go to Tesco at three in the morning for ice cream. I don't gag when she puts enough pepper on her apple to turn it grey. I've held her hair back while she vomits. I was there every bloody month it didn't happen. How can you tell me it won't be all her anymore?'

'I just mean she's the one doing most of the work right now. She's the one who's lugging around thirty extra pounds. She's the one who has to give birth, and let me tell you, Ron, that's not a walk in the park for either of you, but even less for her. I still have fingernail gouges from when James was born. But once it's over, you get to help out. And yeah, it's hard, because the baby won't want to sleep when you do, and Hermione'll get frustrated because she still won't fit into her regular clothes, but you can do things like change nappies and give baths, and feed it.'

'Yeah, that sounds like fun…' muttered Ron, sitting up.

'Well, it's not exactly a Quidditch game,' countered Harry. 'But it's better than sitting on the sidelines wringing your hands, because she's sick and throwing up all day, and you can't do a damn thing about it,' he huffed. 'At least when the baby cries, you can try something.'

Ron heaved a sigh and slid off the sofa and walked into the kitchen. 'Sorry,' he mumbled.

'It's okay.' Harry followed him into the kitchen. 'Hey, why don't you and Hermione come over for dinner Saturday? Ginny won't mind.'

Ron glanced at Harry dubiously. 'Yeah, I'm sure Ginny wants company right now.'

'It'll be fine,' Harry assured Ron. 'She won't have to do anything.'

Ron handed Harry a stack of plates. 'I'll ask Hermione later.'

Harry began to distribute the plates around the table. 'Look at it this way,' he began. 'If either of you get the urge to hex the other, Ginny and I can do a Shield charm, and neither of you will get hurt.' Harry took the forks Ron handed him. 'Then again, with as much as she was throwing up earlier, Gin might side with Hermione.'

'I take it you're not high up on her list of favorite people.'

'I have my moments. Usually while she's clinging to the toilet, cursing me for getting her pregnant.'

'Shouldn't she be getting past that? The throwing up?'

'You watch,' Harry muttered. 'When you have another one, it'll be totally different.'

'We're not having another one,' Ron promptly replied. 'I don't think I could handle it.'

'Do we have to go?' Hermione asked. As much as she loved Harry and Ginny, she wasn't looking forward to spending an evening out of the house. Her back was killing her, and all she wanted was to spend the evening curled up on the sofa, with her feet up, doing the crossword from last Sunday's Times.

'We don't have to,' Ron said, pulling a jumper over his head. 'We can call them, and stay home.'

'That would be rude,' Hermione sighed.

'How is that rude?' Ron argued. 'You're eight billion weeks pregnant, and of all people, they would understand that you're not in the mood to go.'

'Because we're supposed to be there in five minutes,' Hermione said with a grimace, trying to wriggle into a more comfortable position.

'I can call them and cancel. Right now,' Ron said, his hand hovering over the bowl that held their Floo powder.

'No…' Hermione sighed. 'Let's go,' she grunted, trying to push out of the chair. 'Bloody… Could you help me up?' she grumbled. 'I can't wait for this to be over.'

Ron held out his hands, hauling her to her feet when she grasped his hands. 'That makes two of us, hen.' He helped Hermione on with her coat, and they Disapparated to Godric's Hollow.

When they walked into the house, Ginny gave Hermione a look, but said nothing; instead she darted into the sitting room, and returned with a cushion. 'Here,' she murmured, helping Hermione into a chair, and tucking the cushion behind Hermione's back. She dropped into the chair next to Hermione. 'Are you all right?' she asked in a low voice.

Hermione adjusted the cushion a bit. 'Fine.'

Ginny propped her head in her hand. 'You didn't have to come, if you didn't feel up to it,' she said.

Hermione waved her off. 'It's fine. As long as I can stay right here, I'm fine.'

Ginny grinned evilly. 'Watch this,' she whispered conspiratorially with a wink. 'Would you like something to drink?' she asked, loud enough for Harry and Ron to hear over their discussion of the Cannons' chances.

'Glass of water would be lovely,' Hermione responded. 'Thank you.'

'Harry,' Ginny called. 'Would you get Hermione a glass of water?'

Harry gave Ginny an annoyed glance. 'Why don't you get it?'

Ginny heaved a dramatic sigh. 'I'm not feeling very well,' she said forlornly, making a cautious gesture toward her stomach. 'Sort of queasy.'

Harry's demeanor immediately changed. 'I'll get it,' he said, Summoning a glass from the cupboard and filling it with his wand. He set it in front of Hermione, and felt Ginny's forehead. 'Are you all right?' he asked worriedly.

'I think so,' Ginny said, with only the merest hint of uncertainty. It was enough for Harry.

'Don't worry about a thing, Gin. Ron and I can take care of dinner.' He went back to the stove and Ron, to dish up dinner.

Hermione took a sip of her water. 'Impressive,' she commented. 'I didn't think you had it in you.'

Ginny wrinkled her nose. 'I really have had some lovely episodes of morning sickness that lasts all day. It doesn't take much. I don't do it often. Otherwise, he gets suspicious.' She bit her nails, stifling a spate of giggles.

'Dinner's ready,' Harry announced. He levitated a pot of chicken stew to the table, while Ron followed with bowls and spoons.

Ron noticed that Hermione picked at her dinner, eating a few token mouthfuls, and spent the rest of the meal, moving her spoon around the thick broth. She brushed off his inquiries about her well-being off, saying only her back hurt a bit. Ginny offered to do the washing up over Harry's protests that she wasn't feeling well, but Ginny pulled out her wand and efficiently put everything to rights with a smug smile, while Harry carried James upstairs and put him to bed.

Ron had been dying to ask Harry about the case. Ever since he'd put the Auror trainees to watch the house, Ron felt slightly better about the whole thing. But each time they were together, whenever Ron wanted to ask about the case, it had been impossible to get some time alone in a space Harry could guarantee would be safe to talk. Harry handed Ron the perfect opportunity. 'Come on. I think I've got that motorbike in running condition again,' he said, pulling on Ron's arm. 'I just need to put a part back on.'

'I'll have pudding ready for you when you come back,' Ginny called after them, as they left the kitchen. She left Hermione alone while she slipped upstairs for a moment to check on James. When she left Hermione, a faint moan slipped from Hermione's tightly compressed lips. Her back really hurt. She pushed herself to her feet and began to slowly walk around the kitchen, rubbing the persistent ache in her lower back. She could feel an unpleasant dampness between her legs and huffed, 'Brilliant, now I've lost control of my own bladder.' She patted her trouser pockets, searching for her wand to do a little discreet cleaning when Ginny walked back into the kitchen.

Ginny leaned over the back of the chair Hermione had just vacated. 'Hermione, do you feel all right?'

'Fine, why?'

'I think your water just broke.'

Hermione blinked and looked down at the seat of the chair for herself. 'Oh, so that's what that was.' She looked up at Ginny a rueful smile on her face. 'For a moment, I thought I'd lost all control and pissed myself.'

'We need to get you to St. Mungo's.' Ginny opened the back door and shouted, 'Harry! Ron! Get in here!'

'Is the pudding ready?' Ron said hopefully, as he and Harry came into the kitchen.

'No, but the baby is,' Hermione told him.

'What? Now?' yelped Ron.

'Yes, now. Honestly!'

'But we don't have anything,' Ron protested weakly.

Hermione glared at Ron, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen, like a gormless fool. 'Ron, I really don't care what we have or what we don't have, but I don't think Harry or Ginny want me to have this baby on their kitchen table.'

Ron nodded, and began to pace in a small circle. 'Ronald, where are you going?' Hermione asked.

'I don't really know.'

'St. Mungo's,' Harry reminded him helpfully.

'Right.' Ron reached out to grasp Hermione's hand, preparing to Apparate them both to London.

'Wait!' Hermione cried.

'What now?' Ron was grinding his teeth in frustration.

'Someone needs to get Mum!'

'I don't want to leave you alone,' Ron said stubbornly.

'And we need the bag!' Hermione said, clutching Ron's hand, as another contraction laced through her.

Ron was ready to rip his hair out.

'Ron, you take Hermione to St. Mungo's,' Ginny said taking control of the situation. 'I'll go get the bag, and Harry can go pick up Jane.' She looked between Ron and Hermione. 'Good?' They both nodded. 'Good.' She looked at Harry, and beckoned to him. 'Let's go, then.'

Ginny came into the waiting area of St. Mungo's maternity floor, Hermione's bag in her hand. Harry hadn't arrived with Jane yet. Ron and Hermione were bickering in the corner, waiting for the welcome witch to locate Hermione's file.

'You are never touching me again, Ronald Weasley!' Hermione ground out between clenched teeth.

'Excuse me? You all but attacked me!'

'I was drunk!'

'Oh, so now you finally admit you were drunk?' he retorted. 'Only took nine months,' Ron muttered under his breath. He stood nose to nose with Hermione. Or as close as he could manage, considering the size of Hermione's stomach.

'Well, you shouldn't have… Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! Bloody hell that hurts!'

The witch finally located Hermione's file and took Hermione to a room behind the double doors. She was standing at the foot of the bed, her hands braced on the mattress when the door opened and Jane walked in. 'Hello, darling,' Jane said soothingly. 'How is it, then?'

'It really hurts, Mum,' Hermione whimpered.

'I know it does,' Jane said putting an arm around her daughter's waist. 'Let's get those clothes off, shall we?' she asked, helping Hermione shed her clothing to change into the gown folded neatly on the bed.

'Harry went to call Mum,' Ron said from the doorway. 'Shanti's on her way,' he added, rocking uncertainly on his feet. 'Um… Do you want me to… Uh, I mean…'

Hermione looked up. 'I want you in here,' she told him. 'I can't do this without you.'

Ron nodded, and edged into the room, unsure of what to do; trying to remember everything that childbirth class had covered. 'Um, Shanti wanted to know if you wanted something for the pain…?'

'Do I look like I want to shove something the size of a melon out of my body with nothing at all…' she grumbled. Hermione straightened up. 'Do I look like I've lost my mind?' she asked acidly.

'Right now?' He caught Jane frantically shaking her head behind Hermione. 'No, not at all,' he replied quickly.

'Of course I want something for the pain!' Hermione shouted.

'Why are you shouting at me?' Ron asked, bewildered.

'Because you did this to me!' Hermione snarled.

'Don't,' Shanti murmured, coming into the room behind Ron. 'Don't even try to be rational with her. She won't remember half of what she says.' She handed Hermione a small vial. 'Drink up. Takes the edge off.'

'Thank God,' Hermione groaned, downing the bright orange potion, sighing in relief as a blessed numbness spread through her.

'Is that safe?' Ron asked nervously.

'It'll be fine,' Shanti assured him. 'I'd like to examine Hermione now, so could you and Jane go wait outside?'

Ron bolted for the door and stood outside, twisting the hem of his jumper. Jane patted him on the arm. Ron looked down at her. 'I'm scared,' he told her. 'More scared than I've ever been in my life.'

Jane raised an eyebrow. 'I find that hard to believe, having heard about some of your exploits in school,' she commented.

Ron let out a choked laugh. 'Yeah, well. That was different.'

'It will be all right. Women have been having babies for millennia.'

'This is different,' Ron said, leaning against the wall. 'This time it's mine.'

Ron switched out one hand for the other in Hermione's grasp. He knew she was strong, but he didn't know she could single-handedly break all the fingers of both hands. Even with the painkilling potion, Hermione was still in a lot of pain and had over the course of the past three hours threatened Ron with everything from castration with a pair or nail clippers to reaching into his jeans, and tying his testicles in a knot over his head – just he he'd know what real pain was like – to no sex ever again.

It was getting close to the end, if he could believe what Shanti told them. He was grateful Jane had been there with them, because he wasn't sure he would have been able to handle it alone. He didn't know how Harry had managed in here with Ginny for as long as he had by himself. With Jane's help, he got Hermione into position to push. It couldn't come soon enough for Ron. 'When I tell you to, Hermione, I want you to push. As hard as you can. I'm going to count to ten, and after that you can rest a bit, all right?' Shanti said.

'All right,' Hermione said, tiredly.

Neither Ron, nor Hermione were expecting to hear the next thing Shanti said. 'Oh, dear…'

'What "oh dear"?' demanded Hermione. 'There's not supposed to be an "oh dear"!'

Curiously, Ron peeked over Hermione's bent knee. 'Merlin's left… It's got two heads! Oh God, it's like that damn dream. Two heads like that bloke in that bloody hitchhiker film!'

Shanti pinned Ron with a severe gaze. 'Ron, now is not the time to panic. The baby's just breech. It'll take a little more effort to get it out, but… Everything. Will. Be. Fine. It's just coming out arse first.'

'Like me,' Ron murmured.

'This does not bode well,' ground out Hermione.

Time slowed to a near halt for Ron, as Shanti carefully guided the baby out, never rushing and never panicking, giving calm directions to the burly male trainee with her. Ron wanted to scream at her to hurry up, it was taking too long. 'Just a little bit more, Hermione,' Shanti said soothingly. 'Just a little longer, and the head will be out.'

Ron couldn't watch. He pressed his forehead against Hermione's head and clutched her hand, eyes closed murmuring nonsense to her. 'Hear that, hen? Just a little more…'

'I can hear Ron, I'm not deaf, just giving birth,' she retorted tartly.

'And… She's out,' Shanti announced, relief evident in her voice.

'What?' Ron asked. 'Did you say "she"?'

'Yes, I did,' Shanti said. 'It's a girl.'

'A girl.' Ron looked down at Hermione, leaning against her mother. 'A girl.' He sat down suddenly on the edge of the bed.

'Would you like to cut the cord?' Shanti asked Ron.

'I…' He looked at Hermione. She tilted her head toward the baby. 'Yes, I would.' He used his wand to sever the cord where Shanti told him to, his head swimming.

Jane leaned down to kiss Hermione's cheek. 'I'll go out and tell the others. Give you three a bit of time to yourself.'

Ron nodded dazedly.

Shanti cast a few Healing charms on Hermione and began the process of tidying things. The trainee was carefully cleaning the baby and wrapping her in a blanket. 'Have a name for this little one?' Shanti asked, carrying the baby to them.

'Not yet,' Hermione murmured, holding out her arms.

'We couldn't agree on one,' Ron added sheepishly.

'You're not the first ones,' Shanti said with a small smile. She left them alone with the baby.

Ron looked over Hermione's shoulder at the tiny bundle cradled to her breast. Her eyes were shut tightly, but she had vivid red curls rioting around her head. 'You know, hen… I have an idea for a name,' he began, but before he could say what it was, the door opened and Molly's head came through the gap.

'Can we come in?' she asked, the anticipation dancing on her face.

'Yeah,' Hermione breathed, tracing the lines of their daughter's face. She looked up at Harry. 'So who won the bet?'

'Uh…' Harry fumbled in his pocket for the small notebook. 'You and Arthur share the bet for guessing it was a girl. And…' He squinted at Ron. 'Did you faint?'

'Nope.'

Harry turned his gaze to Hermione. 'Did he?'

Hermione shook her head. 'But it hasn't been that long yet. Ron said he'd faint an hour afterward.' She grinned. 'We have time.'

'What's her name?' Molly asked, delightedly rocking the baby.

'Don't know yet,' admitted Ron.

Ginny carefully transferred the baby to Katie and came to stand next to the bed. 'Makes it all worth it, doesn't it?' she said softly, so only the two of them heard.

Hermione watched as the baby was passed from one grinning family member to the next, ending with her mother. Jane used one hand to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes. 'Yeah, it does,' Hermione replied. Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione and hugged her tightly. When they parted, both of them were sniffling a little.

Harry shifted James a bit higher to get a better grip on the sleeping toddler, as he bent and gently kissed Hermione's cheek. 'Good job, Hermione,' he said with a teasing smile. 'Full marks.'

Harry and Ginny left after that. It seemed to be a signal for the rest of the family to make their farewells, and soon, it was just Jane and Hermione in the room. Jane came to sit on the edge of the bed next to Hermione. 'She really is a beautiful baby, Hermione.'

Hermione brushed a fingertip over the baby's bright, feathery eyebrow. 'Do you think Dad would be pleased?'

'His first grandchild? Oh, yes. He would.' Jane let out a shaky breath. 'He'd already have a footie kit for her, so she could be the first woman to play for Manchester United.' Jane's arm circled Hermione's shoulders. 'He would have been so proud of you.'

Hermione glanced at her mother. 'Mum?'

'Yes?'

Hermione smiled. 'All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go…' she sang shakily, before Jane joined her. 'I'm standing here, outside your door, I hate to wake you up and say goodbye…'

Ron trudged back down the corridor to Hermione's room, after seeing his family off. He heard voices come from the room, and stood outside listening. Jane and Hermione were crooning that song he and Hermione had danced to at their wedding. 'So kiss me, and smile for me. Tell me that you'll never leave. Hold me like you'll never let me go…' He leaned against the wall, unwilling to intrude on the moment. Their voices trembled and cracked, and Ron knew they were thinking of Richard. He waited until the song faded, and opened the door.

Ron grabbed the chair in the corner and dragged it next to the bed and dropped into it, bending his head to drop a kiss on the curve of the baby's head. 'I was thinking,' he began. 'About what we could name her.'

'So was I,' confessed Hermione.

'You first,' Ron offered.

'It's kind of silly,' Hermione said. 'But I was thinking about Rose.'

'That's not silly,' Ron said. 'Actually, I was thinking it, too.' He swallowed. 'For your dad.' He turned his attention to Jane. 'Do you mind?' he asked.

'Why should I mind? It's a lovely name.'

Hermione looked at Ron with a raised eyebrow. 'Well, obviously for Dad,' she said. 'But for…' She blushed, and glanced down at Rose.

Ron looked at her his brows knit in confusion before it dawned on him. The trellis arch and the night Rose was conceived. He coughed and flushed. 'Yeah,' he mumbled. 'Beatrice,' Ron said suddenly. 'From that book, remember? Rose Beatrice.'

'It's perfect.' Hermione looked down at Rose. 'So. Rose Beatrice Weasley.'

'And on that note, it's time for me to go home,' Jane said. She ran her hand over Rose's bright curls. 'Good night, Rose.' She stood up and embraced Hermione. 'Your father would adore the name.'

'Thanks, Mum.'

Ron took Jane's arm and escorted her to an Apparition point, and took her home to Oxford. She went up on her toes before going into the house, and kissed his cheek. 'The two of you did a marvelous job.'

'Thank you,' Ron said sincerely, surprising Jane by wrapping his arms around her and hugging her, before releasing her just as suddenly as he'd embraced her. 'I'll come round tomorrow about eleven to take you back if you want.'

'That would be lovely.' Jane slipped into the house, and Ron turned to dormant garden.

His head tilted back and he took in the clear, starry sky. 'Did you hear that?' he whispered. 'Her name is Rose.' He briefly closed his eyes and went back to the hospital.

Hermione was curled on her side, Rose tucked close to her. She looked up when Ron sidled into the room. 'Hi,' she said softly, so as not to wake the baby.

Ron took the chair next to the bed. 'Hi,' he replied.

Hermione reached out with her free hand. She laced her fingers through Ron's. 'I couldn't have done this without you.' He shrugged. 'I mean it. None of the past nine months, or tonight.' She looked back down at Rose. 'And I know I wouldn't be able to raise her without you.' She paused and exhaled slowly. 'If anything were to happen to me, you would do a brilliant job by yourself, too.'

'I love you, too, hen,' Ron said quietly. He looked away and rubbed his nose. 'Something in my eye,' he mumbled. He knew she understood how much he needed to hear that she had complete faith in his abilities as a parent.

He picked up Rose and laid her in the cot, before sliding into the bed next to Hermione.

Four months later…

Hermione set the carrycot containing a sleeping Rose on the bench under the trellis arch in her parents' back garden. Ron was kneeling next to the Gentle Hermione, weeding the beds around the rosebushes. It was mid-June, and the scent of the roses twining around the trellis drifted lazily around Hermione. She lifted Rose from the carrycot, cradling her. 'Dad…' she murmured. 'I'd like you to meet Rose. Your granddaughter.'

The end…

A/N: And so it comes to the end... This is where this one was always going to end, so if you want to find out who was behind those nasty letters (if you don't know already), check out Making Mistakes.

Rose's birthday, for those of you keeping track, is February 12, 2006.

The lyrics of 'Leaving on a Jet Plane' are by John Denver.

I can't believe it's finished.

Many, many thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this.