I.
Rose curls up in her father's lap, resting her head on his chest. "Read me a bedtime story," she mumbles between yawns.
Ron chuckles, stroking her hair. "Sure you're not too old?"
She shakes her head. "Never."
The man scoops his daughter into his arms, carrying her to her room and depositing her onto the bed before sitting beside her. Ron reaches for the book laying on her bedside table, opening it to a random page. He's read every story her so many times that he knows them all by heart, and it doesn't matter what page he starts on. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess," he recites.
"I like princesses," Rose mumbles sleepily.
He laughs. "That's because you're a princess, Rosie."
"Am not."
"You're my princess," he says. "Now, are you going to let me finish?"
The seven year old giggles. "Sorry, Daddy."
"She was the fairest in all the land," Ron continues, watching in amusement as his daughter's eyes grow heavy, sleep swiftly approaching.
II.
Ron stays up, finishing a few notes for George while the rest of his family sleeps. He knows he has a big day ahead of him, with Rose starting Hogwarts in the morning, but he can't bring himself to go to bed quite yet.
"Daddy?"
The quiet voice behind pulls him away from the parchment. "You should be in bed, Rosie," he says. "Tomorrow is an important day, you know." Mentally, he smiles at the fact that he sounds like Hermione.
The eleven year old blushes, disappointment in her eyes. "I know. But..." She holds up her storybook. "Could you read to me?"
With a laugh, he walks over to her, taking the book. "You know, one day you won't want me to read to you anymore," he tells her.
"Never gonna happen," she says, shaking her head stubbornly.
"You'll get married," he teases. "And you'll have your husband read to you every night."
Rose makes a face that's a cross between annoyance and disgust. "Will not!"
"Will to."
"Daddy, read to me! Please?"
Ron takes her hand, leading her to her bedroom. "What story do you want to hear tonight?" he asks, sitting beside her on the bed.
III.
It has been four years since Rose has asked for a bedtime story.
"She's a teenager, Ron," Hermione reminds him, kissing her husband's cheek. "Would you have asked your parents to read to you when you were fifteen?"
"No," he admits.
Ron doesn't tell her that this is different, that Rose is his baby girl. Part of him wonders if his parents had wished that he had needed them more during his teen years. Had their hearts broken, just as his is breaking now, when they'd realized their children were all too grown?
"She still loves you," Hermione sighs. "But she's older now. She won't be a child forever."
"I know."
IV.
"You're what?" Ron asks, his eyes focused on the ring that rests on his daughter's finger.
"Getting married," Rose repeats, beaming. "Scorpius asked me last night."
"He hurts you, I'll kill him."
"Hugo!"
"You're getting..." Ron can't bring himself to form the final word.
Hermione elbows him sharply in the ribs, looking pointedly at her husband. "This is wonderful, isn't it, Ron?" she says with a ruin-this-and-I-will-hex-you look.
It takes Ron several seconds to find his voice. With a weak smile, he nods, moving forward and kissing the top of Rose's head. "Told you you'd get married one day," he mumbles.
Rose doesn't seem to notice the hint of sadness in her father's voice. Laughing, she pulls away. "Shut up, Dad."
OoOoO
"You knew it was inevitable," Hermione says as they climb into bed. "They've been pretty serious for a while now."
"Doesn't make it any easier."
Hermione wraps her around him, trailing kisses over his jaw. "Scorpius is a good boy."
"I know." His tone is almost grudging.
He'd always hoped that one day his children would find people to love, people to treat them right. All rational fathers want it for their children. Still, it's a shock. Ron doesn't want to give her away because letting go would mean that she's all grown up and no longer needs her father.
V.
Rose returns home the night before her wedding. "It's traditional, you know," she tells her parents.
Ron finds himself in the kitchen, slipping a glass of wine to steady his nerves. In the morning, he'll do the hardest thing he's ever done. All the times he'd nearly died fighting alongside Harry pale in comparison to walking his daughter down the aisle.
"Thought I might find you here," Rose calls with a laugh.
Ron turns, managing a smile. "You should be in bed," he says, reminded of the night before her first day at Hogwarts.
"Yeah, well..." The twenty year old holds up her book. By now, it's raggedy, barely held together after years of use. "Could you read to me?"
His heart lightening, Ron nods. "Of course, Rosie."
VI.
Gone are the days of girlish pigtails and oversized clothes. Rose is a woman, a beautiful woman with her auburn hair piled elegantly atop her head and white satin draping her delicate frame. Hermione had said that Rose wouldn't be a child forever, and now Ron is painfully reminded that his wife is almost always right. Still, Ron can see the innocence and curiosity in her eyes, and he knows the woman is still his little girl.
"Have you seen Hugo?" she asks. "He wasn't at breakfast. If he's missing, I'll strangle him!"
"He and your mum are in there," Ron assures her, taking her hand gently. "Nervous?"
"Terrified," she admits. "I am doing the right thing, aren't I?"
The selfish part of him wants to say no. He wants to tell her to come home and forget about Scorpius and marriage. Instead, he leads her along, his arm linking with hers. "Definitely," he tells her, leading out the door and down the aisle as music begins to play.