Work Text:
Harry was staring at the bundle cuddled up besides Ron. There were tears in his eyes. It was their son, his and Ron's. Their own child.
"You aren't welling up, are you?" Ron asked after glancing at Harry from the corner of his eye.
"I am," Harry admitted, not even feeling ashamed. He crawled carefully next to Ron and laid his head on top of Ron's chest. "He's perfect."
"Well, of course," Ron huffed. "What were you expecting, then? Twelve toes, or a missing nose?"
Harry gave a laugh, but his heart wasn't in it. The nightmares which he had seen during the last trimester were still clinging in his mind. Some of them had concentrated on Ron having a miscarriage, but in a few Harry had lost, not only the baby, but also Ron to the complications during the delivery.
Once Harry had even dreamt about their baby looking like the monster Voldemort was before he got his body back. Harry had not told anyone about that particular dream. Not even Ron.
It still felt peculiar, how serene Ron had been for the whole pregnancy. Or if he had panicked in some point, Harry hadn't noticed it. And Ron wasn't exactly the type to hide his light under a bushel.
Harry kissed the hairy nipple in front of his lips, then hugged Ron a little tighter. The house was almost empty now; Molly was downstairs, saying goodbye to the midwife.
"John is perfect," Ron said softly. His voice sounded suspiciously thick.
If Harry had bothered to lift his head, he would have probably seen that Ron's eyes, too, were moist. Wait a minute...
"John?"
"He should have a name, shouldn't he?"
"John?!"
"Shh!"
Harry hoisted himself up, leaning on his elbow, and was fighting to keep his voice under control.
"I thought we haven't decided on his name yet."
"We didn't. But John's a great name."
"John is boring. It's so common!"
"And Harry's so unique?"
"My point exactly!"
"Shh!"
Harry laid his head on top of Ron's chest again, absent-mindedly stroking the ginger hair.
"I want it to be something special."
Ron didn't answer. Harry's favourite name danced on his tongue. He had decided to let James and Sirius rest in peace, even though an idea of James Potter Junior was tempting. But Harry wanted something full of charisma. Something suitable for the offspring of two Gryffindors.
"How 'bout Leo?"
Still, there was no answer, and as Harry raised his head after a moment, he realised that Ron had fallen asleep. He watched Ron's relaxed face for a while, before placing a kiss on the stubble on his chin; Ron hadn't shaved in two days.
Harry pulled the quilt over Ron before picking the baby up; he was sleeping, too.
"Leo."
The baby cracked open his drowsy eyes for a second, and Harry was almost sure that the tiny pink lips curved into an accepting smile, blessing Harry's suggestion for his name. After waking up, Ron would say that it was all in Harry's imagination, or that in reality, John had actually farted in response. It wasn't important right now. They had plenty of time to fight over the baby's name. This moment was just for Harry and little Leo.
Their own miracle.