Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, etc, or I would have Ron Weasley. End of.

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It hurts so badly.

That's all she can register. Agony has filled her body to the brim, and everything is pain. Pain.

She screams at everyone. At the Healers, because they can't seem to do anything to stop her hurting. At her mother, for telling her she'll be all right, because of course she won't be if this agony is anything to go by. At Harry, for simply being there. And at Ron, for putting her in this situation in the first place.

'Push!'

Apparently, this is all anyone can think to say. She wishes they'd think of something else to say, anything else to say, because it's driving her insane, and that really isn't helping at the moment. She's sure she must have broken at least some of Ron's fingers by now, and if she hasn't then she wants to. She wants him to feel just a bit if the pain she's going through, because it's all his bloody fault and he should be the one who has to deal with it.

And now the pain is subsiding, just a little bit, and the head Healer is reaching down. It feels like everything she is is being sucked out of her, but finally it's stopping. There's silence for about a second after she lets out her last scream, and then the small cry of a child answers. Ron has turned sheet white, and is staring at the Healer's hands, but she is so exhausted that she can't lift her head to have a look too.

'Mr and Mrs Weasley, I am very pleased to be able to inform you that you are now the parents of a beautiful baby girl.'

And now a small, pink, yelling bundle is being folded into her arms. She can do nothing but gaze at this alien creature, who she has known for months now but never before seen. Her daughter. Her child. Her little girl…

'Bloody hell.'

She laughs a croaky laugh at Ron's comment. Trust him.

'It's – it's a baby, Hermione. As in – as in our baby.'

Harry joins in the laughter at this.

'You'll learn to cope, Ron. Eventually.'

Ron's face pales even more, and she just knows that he's thinking about James, the baby from hell. She can tell he's praying that their child will turn out any way other than that eating machine who enjoys biting everything he can clamp his jaws upon, despite the fact that he hasn't actually got any proper teeth yet.

'What are you going to call her?'

At Harry's question, they both look down at their child. She needs a name that is both beautiful and sharp, kind and feisty. Something that will reflect the mixture of both their personalities. That personality they can already tell she's going to have.

'I think – I think that we should call her Rose.'

She looks up in astonishment at her husband. The name… it's perfect.

For the first time since bringing this child into the world, she speaks.

'I love you.'

He gives her that awkward grin which she loves so much.

'I love you too.'

Their lips meet in a brief kiss, and she knows that whatever happens in this crazy world of theirs from now on, they will be safe. Because they have each other, and their daughter, and nothing is going to tear them apart.

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