There was pain. It hit me so suddenly that I forgot for a few moments who I was. I had been floating in darkness, numb and comfortable; it was warm, inviting, and other than a few jerks that had me automatically kick something, everything was rather peachy. There had been no sounds, just a gentle beat of my heart.

As I suffered, I could hear shouts, indistinct, and then suddenly, my world narrowed down to a crushing tube.

When Hermione had opened the idea regarding souls and reincarnation, she had a lot of theories that were a little too out there for me. I was honestly lost.

In a way, that was pretty much normal. She was considered the brightest witch of our generation, and I wasn't really up there in her intellectual level. While I wouldn't be considered stupid, I was definitely slow in areas that my wife wasn't.

"Considering the definite proof of a soul's existence," she had said, "I wonder if the idea of reincarnation is valid." Then, she began to befuddle me with words I was pretty sure weren't used in any type of normal conversation. My talents were at chess and, later once I became an Auror and Unspeakable, on tactics and overall strategy. I left the philosophical subjects to her.

However, I did remember her wondering if we retain our memories, or if we can only remember bits and pieces. She even pointed out that maybe the pain of being birthed was what sealed off any residual memories.

I replied that she was being silly, that being born wouldn't be painful at all.

I was wrong. Very wrong.

Warmth turned to unbearable heat, as if my nerves were on fire. I felt the weightlessness leave me, and in its absence, the sudden feeling of crushing force bore down on me. I saw some sort of light shining in the darkness, and it grew, bigger and bigger. I then felt my head screwed in an almost impossible way. My body was squeezed even more, as if wrangling me into knots. After what seemed forever, the pain in my head stopped, only to be blinded by the brightest light I have ever seen. My body was still squeezed hard, and I wanted to scream, but for some reason, my mouth wouldn't cooperate.

My first thought was I didn't want to go like this. I had faced many dangerous things with my time in Hogwarts. The adventures I had in Hogwarts with my best friend, Harry Potter, and my other friend who became my wife, Hermione, were fraught in peril. We faced a mountain troll and almost got eaten by bloody giant spiders just a year afterwards. We faced Voldemort and his followers, then hunted down the stragglers after the former's death. Even helping George in his joke shop had some dangers. The Unspeakable field training also had a high risk of injury and death.

More memories began to flood me. I remembered our daughter, Rose, and her first train ride to Hogwarts. I remembered the smile of the Head Unspeakable telling me I barely passed the course. I remembered Harry's smile as he asked me to be the godfather of James Sirius.

They gave me comfort against the worst pain imaginable. It also lit a fire in my head.

There was no way I would have accepted dying by being crushed to death in a dark, narrow, and smelly hole.

The squeezing finally stopped. The cold came next. The muffled voices were now deafeningly loud. I tried to breathe, only to realize I couldn't. I panicked. I wanted to move but my body didn't respond. Whatever awareness I had was slowly dimming as I suffocated. I didn't know what to do.

A strong slap jerked me. It was when finally everything began to work. The pain seemed to reinvigorate me. I finally was able to take a deep breath. It was painful, breathing in the cold air. Yet, it also kept me alive.

"Bloody hell!" I cried out in pain.

It came out as a wail. It came out as a cry. I moved my limbs, trying to get away, but they felt off, weird. Unresponsive.

I gave up trying to get away. I felt warmness surround me. I heard a familiar male voice say, proudly, "Mollywobbles, he's beautiful."

That got my eyes open, but everything was a bright blur with just a hint of color.

I heard a grunt. A recognizable grunt.

"Don't be like that," the male voice said again.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm being unfair, I know," a female voice called. "I just wish…"

She trailed off.

"There's always next time, dear. However, don't take it out on Ronald, please."

I felt myself being moved. I felt cold for maybe a minute or two before I felt warmth again.

"Ronald, huh?" the female voice asked.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley."

There was a quiet moment before the female voice, my mother Molly Weasley, said, "It's a good name."