A/N: For Ashleigh's Monthly Competition (October: write about a parent child) and the Sherlock Competition (part 1,#2: write about Ron)
I.
He holds her for the first time, heart light and a nervous smile on his lips. "What if I break her?"
Hermione kisses his cheek. "She's our daughter, Ronald, not a porcelain doll."
"Yeah," Ron says, nodding quickly. "Yeah, I knew that."
He takes a deep breath, looking down at the chubby, still-pink little girl who already looks like his wife. "I love you," he whispers. "Always."
II.
"Careful, Rosie!" he calls, but it's too late.
His daughter, still awkard and unbalanced on her shaky legs, falls, head knocking against the coffee table.
Ron cries out just as loudly as Rose at the impact, nearly tripping over his feet as he rushes forward and scoops her into his arms, soothing the wailing girl with shushing noises and pats on the back. "It's okay, Rosie. Shh. Shh. Daddy's got you."
III.
"What is it?" Rose asks, standing on the tips of her toes trying to get a look at the bundle in her mother's arms.
"He," Ron corrects, lifting her and setting her next to Hermione, "is your brother Hugo."
The little girl's face scrunches up. She leans in with narrowed eyes, touching a curious, cautious finger to the newborn's cheek. "I thought I was gettin' a sister."
Ron's face flushes with heat. Words tangling on his tongue, he sputters awkwardly. "I- Well, see, Rosie- It- Sometimes, er-"
"Sometimes Healers are wrong," Hermione supplies with an amused grin at her husband. "Sometimes they say things, but it's not quite right."
The child considers this for a moment before returning her attention to Hugo. A smile spreads across her lips, and she curls into her mother's side, small hand reaching for her brother's tiny one. "I like having a brother."
IV.
"Happy birthday, dear Rosie," they all sing. "Happy birthday to you."
Rose beams, blowing out the candles on her cake.
"Did you make a wish?" Ron asks, reaching down and picking up Hugo who has been clinging to his trouser leg all afternoon.
"Nope."
His brows raise in surprise. "Really? Why not?"
Rose gives a grin wide enough to reveal her two missing teeth. "'Cause," she says in the same tone her mother uses when an answer is obvious. "I already got everything I want."
With a smile, Ron sets Hugo next to Rose. "You and me both, princess."
V.
"Daddy," she says, taking his hand. "It's just Hogwarts. I'll be back for Christmas."
Ron hugs Rise close, kissing the top of her head. "You'll understand one day when you're a parent," he laughs, trying to be cool and not cry. "When your child just stays one night at friend's house, it feels like forever."
The eleven year old pulls back, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm coming back, Daddy."
"I know."
V.
Her bags are packed yet again. Rose tries not to think about it, and the knock at the door gives her the temporary distraction she needs.
"Hey, it's just training," her father says, sitting on her bed. "You'll be home before you know it."
"Yeah," she says quietly. "But I just got home."
He hugs her tight and kisses her forehead. "I know, princess."
IV.
Her mother holds his hand as their family gathers around the table. "Happy birthday, dear-"
"Daddy."
"Grandpa."
"Ron."
"Uncle."
"Happy birthday to you."
"Make a wish," her mother says.
Her father looks around. "Nah. Already got everything."
Rose watches as Scorpius puts a hand on her father's shoulder, and she can't help but to smile when her father doesn't try to shrug her husband off.
"Fifty-eight, huh, old man?" Scorpius teases with a soft grin.
"And I could still kick your arse, Malfoy," Ron replies, lips twisted into identical grin.
"Daddy!"
Hugo laughs, nudging his sister. "Never changes, does it?"
"Thank God," she confirms, watching her father and husband begin an arm wrestling match.
III.
He clings to her, face buried in her shoulder until she can feel his tears saturate her shirt.
"I'm sorry about Uncle Charlie," she whispers, rubbing his back.
"Bastard should have retired," he sniffs, wiping his eyes. "Seventy-six and still working with dragons!"
Carefully, Rose helps him onto the couch. Just as she had with her mother when Hugo was born, she curls into his side.
"I miss him," he whispers.
II.
There's a crash downstairs, Rose immediately gets out of bed.
"I can go," Scorpius murmurs.
"No. He's my dad," she insists, hurrying out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
Her father is a pitiful pile of gnarled, arthritic limbs in front of the door.
"Dad? Where were you going?" Rose asks, helping him awkwardly to stand.
"Wanted to visit Hermione," he answers, his voice distant, eyes looking through his daughter.
"Mum's gone, Dad. Remember?"
He pulls away, wobbling unsteadily.
"Careful, Dad!"
But he crashes to the floor again.
Rose carefully scoops him into her arms, noticing not for the first time how frail he's become. He starts to cry, trembling in her arms.
"Shh," she whispers. "It's okay, Daddy. I'm here. I've got you."
I.
She holds his hand gently. He's like porcelain, and she's afraid if she squeezes too tightly, he might break.
"Rosie?"
"I'm here."
"Hugo?"
"He's on his way. Scorpius sent for him. Daddy, I-"
His breathing becomes labored, and his grip on her hand is almost bruising. Rose winces through the pain, but she doesn't let go.
"I love you," he says. "Alw-"
And the sentence fades just as he does, and Rose holds her father for the last time.