For the Song Fic Boot Camp with the song "My Darling" by Wilco and the prompt "'Mione." Also for the Snakes and Ladders challenge with the character Ron Weasley.

Written for Ashleigh, who loves father/daughter moments.

Word Count: 746

Rating: K

Fatherhood

"She's crying again," Ron said, pacing awkwardly and not quite holding his newborn daughter correctly.

Hermione moved beside him and repositioned Rose's head so it was cradled in the crook of Ron's elbow. "Yes, Ron," she said. "She's a baby. Babies cry. All too soon she'll be telling us exactly what she wants, trust me."

"Oh, I know." He held a bottle to his daughter's lips and sat down on their couch, his wife settling in beside him. "Do you think she'll grow up before I figure this out?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just afraid she'll be too old to need me the moment I figure out how to be a father."

"Ronald, honestly. Do you not know what you just said?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, turning his attention from his daughter to his wife.

"You're entirely wrong, you know. About everything."

He let out a disgruntled snort. "Yes, I know. You make sure to tell me this all the time."

Hermione sighed. "That's not what I mean. It's just that you said Rose might one day be too old to need you. That will never be true. I still need my father sometimes, for advice, for someone to talk to. It's just different when you're older. But also, I don't think we'll ever figure out how to be parents. We just sort of... make it up as we go along. And change if we realize we've made a terrible mistake. And, I dunno, hope Rose turns out wonderfully in spite of us."

"You don't know what you're doing, either? But you're supposed to know everything! You read about a million books on pregnancy and parenting when you were pregnant with her."

"Books aren't everything. Rose didn't come with her own manual, Ron. I'm improvising a bit myself." She smiled and kissed Ron's cheek.

"I think it's time for Rose to get some sleep. Do you mind if I put her down alone?"

"Not at all."

Ron gingerly walked up the stairs to the nursery, scared at every moment that Rose would fall from his arms. She was only two weeks old; he had only been a father for fourteen days. Parenting was far more difficult than anything he'd done so far and, considering what he'd accomplished in twenty-six years, that was impressive. Inside the nursery (painted a shade of light pink called Rose that Hermione had insisted on the moment they named her), he sat down in the rocking chair in the corner and realized it was the first time he'd been there, rocking his little girl to sleep.

In his arms, Rose began to fuss, her face screwed up and pink, arms flailing. "Shh, Rosie. It'll be okay. Go back to sleep now, my darling." Ron felt strange, talking to this small creature he knew couldn't understand him. He was reminded of the first few awkward weeks of his relationship with Hermione, unsure what to do, stiff arm around her shoulder. If parenting could grow from here to what his relationship had become with Hermione... well, he knew that one day it would all be worth it.

She settled down as he glided the chair along, cuddling into his elbow and seeming perfectly at peace. As he watched her, he fell in love with his daughter all over again. "We made you," he whispered. "You are the most magical thing I have ever witnessed."

Even after her eyes were long closed and her breathing even, he stayed with Rose in his arms, just looking at her, rocking her back and forth, being comfortable for the first time at the idea of fatherhood. "Ron? Is everything okay?"

He looked up, surprised to see his wife at the door. He hadn't heard her come in. "Shh, Hermione. It's fine. She's already asleep."

"Are you ready to put her down, then?"

"Okay," he said, but he was reluctant to let go. He had been enjoying the peace he felt alone with her. "I'll be back downstairs in a minute, love." Carefully, he stood up, making sure Rose moved as little as possible. She wiggled in his arms, and he gasped, but she was still sound asleep. He laid her in her crib and kissed her forehead gently. As he pulled away, he could have sworn he seen her smile. "Sweet dreams, Rosie. And please don't grow up too fast."

He kissed her soft downy hair one last time and went downstairs to his wife.