"It won't be too much longer now, Mrs. Weasley... just a few more pushes..."

Hermione let out an annoyed groan in response; she did not seem to find much comfort in the midwife's words. Ron had been holding her hand in an attempt to encourage and reassure her, but despite his best intentions, she was clearly still in a great deal of pain, and her staccato breath was beginning to come in at increasingly shorter intervals now. She squeezed his hand even tighter and leaned into him, her face flushed deep scarlet from the strain she'd been under since her labor started over fourteen hours ago. "Oh," she moaned, "what I wouldn't give for a Muggle epidural right now..."

Ron held his smile in check, though he found the comment more than a bit amusing. But this would probably be a inappropriate time to laugh, he decided, and certainly the last thing he wanted right now was to catch his wife's ire at such a moment. Thinking of the safest possible thing he could say in response, he whispered, "You're doing amazing, love... almost there..."

"The head's almost out..."

"There, you see?" Ron said. "The baby's almost here..."

But Hermione could only grimace as she prepared for another push, then she blew out another exhale. "Can't you just give me a numbing spell and get it over with?" Hermione said to the midwife.

At this, Ron could no longer resist a chuckle, and to his surprise, Hermione laughed as well.

"'Fraid not, my dear... That's not the way we do it in the Wizarding world..."

Hermione groaned again; clearly she was disappointed in the answer, as little in the Wizarding world had ever failed her before. "How could your mother do this seven times?" she said through gritted teeth.

"How about we ask her another time," Ron said, and he smiled in relief when she laughed once again.

"Here come the shoulders, Mrs. Weasley," the midwife said.

Ron watched in utter amazement as he watched the scene unfold. The whole thing still seemed so surreal to him, being with Hermione at this moment, seeing their child enter this world.

Five months ago he was sure he would never reach this moment, and even when Voldemort had been killed, he had been afraid that the Ministry would condemn him and Harry for having used the ultimate unforgivable curse to bring the Dark Lord down. Indeed, there had been those among the top brass--Draco Malfoy having led the charge--who had wanted Ron to be stripped of his Auror title, and called for him and Harry be ordered to stand trial for their crimes. But they had had their supporters in the Ministry as well, and in the end, the officials had decided that all of this had to be put to rest once and for all. Ron and Harry had been pardoned.

And now he was here, and the baby he had been afraid he'd never get to see was moments away from being born.

Ron hoped it would be very soon now; he didn't know how much longer Hermione could hold on. She was quiet now, very quiet, but tears were streaming down her cheeks and Ron knew she was doing everything she could not to focus on the pain.

"Just keep squeezing my hand," he told her. "I don't care if you break it, s'long as it helps, even just a little bit."

She laughed and said, "You'll need to be able to hold the baby, Ron. I can break your hand later when it's not so critical--oooh!!!" She grimaced again, squeezing her eyes shut, as Ron kissed her forehead.

"One more, love, can you do that? One more, and the little tyke'll be joining us..."

Sometime between breaths, she uttered an affirmative, then pushed out one final time. Ron watched in awe as he saw the tiny being slide out into the midwife's arms, letting loose a loud cry as soon as the umbilical cord was cut.

"Congratulations," the midwife said, holding up their baby. "You have a son..."

"A boy," Hermione said, more tears streaming down her face now. "Oh Ron, we have a little boy..."

But Ron couldn't find his voice at that moment. He watched the midwife place their baby in Hermione's arms, and for the longest time he simply looked at them, mother and son, hoping he would be able to commit every detail of this moment to memory.

The baby squirmed, his face red with a soundless cry, matching perfectly the light tufts of hair on his head already. Ron chuckled; Hermione had gotten her wish after all.

His eyes met Hermione's, and they smiled at each other. He reached over, placing a light kiss on her lips and whispered, saying the only thing he could think of at the moment, "Thank you."

Hermione laughed, her tears coming steadily. "Back at you," she said, then she shifted her weight and looked up at Ron. "I think it's time he met his father now..."

Ron leaned over as she gingerly placed him in his arms. For a long time, he just looked at his son, thinking of all these many months he'd had to endure. They had been well worth this moment.

Outside, he knew their family waited: Hermione's parents, and his, Harry and Ginny, and Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, and George. But this moment was theirs alone, his and his son's.

Gently, he kissed his forehead, and the baby responded with a flutter of his eyes.

"Welcome to the world, Jack Arthur Weasley."