“Harry,” Hermione called softly from inside the room of the St. Mungo’s maternity ward. “You have another son!”

Harry jumped up from his chair like a jack in the box. He had been waiting and worrying out in the waiting room for the last hour. Hermione had convinced him that, since he would have absolutely no idea what he was doing inside the room with Ginny (an observation that he grudgingly agreed with) it would be better for everyone if he waited. That may have been true, but it was still bloody frustrating to be stuck out here.

“Is she alright? Is he alright? Did anything go wrong?”

Hermione laughed. “A bit nervous, are we? Everything went just fine, Harry. Would you like to come see them?”

“Of course!” Harry jumped up from his chair, and walked with Hermione into the hospital room. Inside, Ginny lay on the bed. Her red hair was stuck to her face with sweat, and her eyes were wet, but she was smiling nonetheless. In her arms was a tiny bundle of cloth with what appeared to be a black rug sticking out on one end.

“Remind me again why I went through this again?” Ginny asked sarcastically. “I seemed to distinctly remember saying after James was born that this hurt far too much to do it again”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re doing this because, however much you’d deny it, you love kids, you want ones of your own, and, to your disadvantage, males can’t become pregnant.” Harry ducked, and narrowly missed being hit in the head by a pillow. He marveled at how hard his wife could throw even while bedridden. Must be all that Quidditch.

“Would you like to hold him?” Ginny asked. Harry nodded, and she placed their second son in his arms. He sat down gently on one of the incredibly uncomfortable chairs next to the bed.

“How are you, little buddy?” Harry cooed. The infant looked up at him, and Harry had the unnerving feeling that he was looking into a mirror. Like his older brother James, this child had black hair, but, unlike his brother, he had eyes of emerald green, startingly like Harry’s own, and like Lily Potter’s was well. Those eyes sparked a memory in Harry, a memory of eight years ago, when he had watched a man die who had loved Lily, and who had spent his life protecting her son. Protecting him. It wasn’t the first time Harry had thought about Snape in the last eight years, of course. However, Harry was finally beginning to come to terms with his old antagonist. For a long time, Harry had been unable to forget the fact that Snape was cruel to him during classes. Even the fact that he had been working for Dumbledore all along hadn’t been enough to wear away his resentment. But time had done what knowledge hadn’t. Looking back on things with a clear head, Harry thought he was finally seeing Snape as he really was.

“Harry,” Ginny called, “Do you have any ideas what we should name him?”

“Maybe you should choose the name,” Harry suggested. “Maybe ‘Arthur’ or something.”

Ginny wrinkled her nose. “I never liked that name. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my father, but I hated that name. I think you should choose.”

“But..” Harry protested, “I want this to be fair to you.”

Ginny gave him the patented Weasley glare. “And I am far too tired to think of a decent name. I don’t want to give my son a horrific name and have him hate me later for it.”

Harry held his hands up in defeat. Actually, he had secretly been hoping that Ginny would feel this way. He had a name in mind for this son.

“I think his first name should be ‘Albus,’ after Dumbledore,” Harry began.

Ginny nodded. “That sounds good.” She obviously realized he was keeping something back, however. “Do you have anything for a middle name?”

“I was actually thinking his name could be ‘Albus Severus’,” Harry admitted. “I just want to have some tribute to him, because without him, I would be dead, and his eyes are just like mine, just like my mothers, and Snape loved-”

Ginny cut him off. “Harry, be quiet. I happen to love that name.”

“You don’t have a problem with it?” Harry asked incredulously.

“I do believe I just said that.”

“Well,” Harry said, cradling little Albus. “Welcome to the world, Albus Severus Potter.”