Written for the Fanfiction Tournament Comp (Valentine, Round 1) and the Open Category Comp (Next Gen)
"Rosie? Rosie, what's wrong?"
The nine year old sniffles, shaking her head. Her lip quivers, but she refuses to speak.
Ron frowns, sitting on the sofa and gesturing for his daughter to move closer. With a sniff, Rose does, sitting in his lap and burying her head in his chest.
"It isn't fair," she says, her arms wrapping around him, clinging to him.
Ron rubs her back awkwardly. Somehow, he's still absolutely rubbish at this whole offering comfort thing, even with years upon years of practice. "What's not?"
Again, Rose refuses to answer. She just presses her face against him a little more, still sniffling.
"You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's bothering you, Rose," Ron says gently, petting her hair.
"It isn't fair," she says again. "Why can't I have a Valentine, too?"
Ron is taken aback by her question. He sits there, sputtering for a moment, willing his mouth to say something that will make sense. "Aren't you a little young to have a Valentine?" he asks.
Judging by the frustrated whine that Rose lets out, he guesses that this is not the right thing to say. But he keeps talking, making it worse. "I mean, you're only nine. That's young, you know. You shouldn't be worrying about having a Valen-"
"Hugo is younger than me, and he gave Mallory Thomas a flower at the park yesterday!" Rose insists, pulling back and looking up at him. "And she kissed his cheek and called him her boyfriend!"
"Did she really?" Ron asks, a proud grin tugging at his lips.
"It isn't fair, Daddy. Victoire has Teddy. Lucy has Lorcan. Roxy has Peter. You have Mummy. Aunt Ginny has Uncle Harry. Uncle Percy has Aunt Audrey. Uncle-"
Ron touches a finger to her lips, silencing her. "I get it, I get it," he says. "But Valentine's Day isn't really that important, Rosie. You don't need just one day a year to love someone."
"I know, but-"
"I love you, your mum, and your brother every day, all year," he says, hoping that he's getting better at saying the right thing. "Valentine's Day is just a silly holiday. They only invented it so they could sell love potions and chocolate."
Rose looks up at her father with wide, curious eyes. "Really?"
"Yup. I didn't have a Valentine til I was almost eighteen."
"Wow. You were really old, Daddy."
Heat creeps into Ron's cheeks, but he decides not to comment. "Right, well. What I'm saying is this. You don't need a Valentine to feel special and loved. It's nice, sure. But you're special and loved, always. By me, your mum, Hugo, everyone."
For a moment, Rose doesn't speak. She sits in his lap quietly, head tilted to the side, lips pursed in thought. After a moment, she nods. "Okay," she says, sliding off his lap, a broad smile on her lips. "I don't need a Valentine. But, Daddy?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
Rose reaches out, taking his hand in hers. "Will you be my Valentine?"
Ron laughs, leaning down and kissing her nose. "Of course, Rosie."
"Yay! And don't worry, Daddy. I won't tell Mummy you've got two Valentines this year!"