A/n: This fic was posted in the Romione Sinfest'17 under the category Pride.

Hermione woke up precisely a couple of minutes before the tiny human in the crib cried out. She glanced at the clock that hung on the pristine white walls in the special maternity ward to notice that it had been almost three hours since she had fed Rose.

She had barely managed to remove the blanket off herself, her aching lower body protesting and making her moments laboured, when the other occupant of the room reached the crib next to her.

Ron's messed up hair was standing at odd angles, and he had the look of a man who had barely slept the past couple of nights, bloodshot eyes and all. His demure changed as he looked down at the tiny bundle in the crib, and a smile materialised easily on his tired face. The tender way in which he picked up their newborn daughter tugged at her heartstrings, and Hermione found herself watching him in awe. He muttered comforting words to the little one she couldn't hear, but his touch seemed to work on the baby and her frantic cries simmered down to softer whimpers.

As she continued to watch, Ron unwrapped the soft blue blanket covering Rose to check on her nappy. Whatever surprise she had for her father seemed to stun him for one solid moment. Hermione couldn't help but chuckle softly to herself. However, the proud new daddy squared up his shoulders, a look of intense determination taking over his handsome features, and whipped out his wand.

Her husband waved the wood in a well-practised motion, and Rose was changed into a fresh set of clothes. Molly had taught him the spell weeks before, and Hermione couldn't remember ever having seen Ron so focused on getting a spell right.

Wrapped snugly in a beautiful golden yellow flannel, Hermione thought her baby looked almost like a loaf of freshly baked bread. She shook her head, laughing at herself. Either she was starving, or her brain was beginning to sound just like Ron.

"Here you go," he said, handing her their daughter carefully and moving behind her immediately to adjust her pillows.

As Hermione brought the hungry baby to her breast, both mother and daughter struggling to get this almost new gesture right, Ron sat himself down next to them at the edge of the bed. Once Rose latched and got busy filling that tiny tummy of hers, Hermione looked over the miracle she had created to watch her husband instead. Ron gave her a radiant smile before very tenderly running his fingers through her frizzy curls, tucking a shorter lock behind her ear.

"How you feelin'?" he whispered.

She nodded smiling and without taking her eyes off him, "Better than before. What 'bout you?"

"Brilliant!" he beamed though still in a whisper before looking down at their little one. Using the tips of his fingers, he caressed the soft auburn hairs and placed his large hand over Hermione's which was already supporting the tiny head. A look of pure awe seemed permanently etched on his features.

Together they watched Rose feed peacefully, and Hermione found herself mesmerised looking at the two people who seemed to fill up her world. Once Rose was done with her midnight snack, Ron gently took her back in his arms and placed a kiss on Hermione's forehead.

"Catch some sleep, love. She's sure to wake you up again in a bit," he chuckled while angling the tiny bundle on his shoulder just like his Mum had taught- paying special attention to support the wobbly head and lower back. His large hand draped over Rose's tiny body surely keeping her cocooned and happy as she let out a small gurgle.

"And you?" Hermione asked while sliding down the pillows, trying her best to find a position comfortable enough. It had barely been twelve hours since they had become parents, and yet, she was already bone tired.

"Gotta burp her before we put her down, don't we?" he inquired seriously and pressed a small kiss on the back of that tiny head.

"Right," she mouthed glad that Ron had taken over. She could barely sit with that backache.

She knew she needed sleep, but found it extremely hard to look away from the duo. The way she felt watching Ron with Rose was almost magical in itself.

Did they actually create that little one Ron was now holding?!

She had known Ron for the past sixteen years. They had literally grown up together, both in age and maturity. She had assumed she had seen every aspect of Ron she possibly could- from the annoying eleven-year-old to the loving, caring husband that he was.

And in all these years, he had given her a million reasons to be proud of him. Right from the moment, his eleven-year-old-self sacrificed himself on that giant chessboard, to the present day when he was one of the two youngest and most brilliant Aurors the Ministry had ever seen, he never failed to make her immensely proud. She felt complete to have him as hers, to be the one to be in love with him and in return, be loved back just as much, maybe even a fair bit more.

It was a marvel seeing him with his nieces and nephews during the Sunday dinners at the Burrow; he was just so natural with the kids. And though she might have worried herself sick wondering if she'd manage to be a good Mum, not once did she ever doubt that Ron would make an amazing father.

She forced her sleep-laden eyes to remain open a little longer, watching him as he paced around the room with Rose. Hermione could roughly make out a lullaby, but it was hard to decipher the words.

Ron was surely exhausted himself. She had had a long labour but he had not left alone her for a moment- holding her hand, muttering words of encouragement and at times, barking at the Healers for not doing enough to ease her pain.

She had never thought it was possible to love him more than she already did, but everything about the past twenty-four hours had made her fall in love with her husband all over again. This Ron was both different and yet everything she knew about him, and her heart swelled at the way he handled his daughter.

Rose was tiny, coming almost three weeks before she was actually due. Hermione chuckled sleepily to herself at how she looked even smaller against her father's broad chest. As she watched, Ron moved over to the crib and placed the sleeping baby back, holding her just as tenderly as before. He stood next to the crib watching the little one with a look of bewilderment, pride and love- an insane amount of love.

Her husband was besotted, and for once, Hermione wasn't complaining.

She waited, and Ron walked over to her. He grinned and shook his head, mouthing 'blimey' before he sighed softly, happily. He bent low, tucking her in properly and ran his hand across her forehead and cupped her cheek in his palm. The smile never faded from his eyes.

"G'night," he whispered before placing a kiss on her forehead.

As her exhausted eyelids finally fluttered shut, Hermione decided that pride was a sin she was gladly going to indulge in. She was right all along; Ron would be a brilliant father. And she was irrevocably and unrepentantly proud of him.

A/n: Thank you for reading. A feedback will be highly appreciated.