A short Ron/Hermione one-shot I wrote today while I waited with great anticipation for the list of the new medical residents that will be joining me at work this upcoming school year.

I'm also looking into maybe expanding my first R/H story "Feel Again," into a series...once I finish some other works in progress that need to be finished. If you haven't seen it - you should check it out :)

"Well…look at you."

Bright blue eyes blinked back at Ron, the two of them staring at each other in the most peculiar of manners. Swaddled tightly in a pink blanket, Ron gently peeled the white cotton hat away from his daughter's head, grinning madly at the red curls that appeared. It wasn't bright red like his hair, but a darker red like sister's, but it was red enough to claim the Weasley name.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Rosie," Ron quietly spoke, settling his daughter in the protective crook of his arm as he curled up in the chair inside Hermione's hospital room. "I'm your dad...hopefully you aren't too disappointed by this in the future…or now I suppose."

Rosie gurgled a little bit, spastically swinging an arm that had wriggled loose from the swaddle. Ron quietly laughed, catching her tiny hand, letting her even tinier fingers wrap around one of his. He thought he'd get over the sight of her, but she'd been here for nearly eight hours already and he was nowhere close to losing any of his awe in regards to the small person he was holding in his hands. He was quite pleased when his father helped usher his entire family out of the hospital. Once they arrived, Ron thought they'd never leave. Hermione's parents, on the other hand, were currently en route to Britain from some city Hermione said was called Boston. Ron didn't know much about it, other than that it was in America, and they were there for a dental conference. Looking up at the clock on the wall, he expected them to land and head straight to the hospital from the airport in a few hours or so.

This was fine with him, now that he didn't have to fight with his family about holding his daughter. After all, he helped make her. He should get to decide who gets to hold her. Even if the only person he chose was himself. Hermione, however, made him share, staring at him with a tired but happy look.

"They're just excited," she said, reaching a hand out to him.

He took her hand, despite being unimpressed with her reasoning. "Like I bloody care," he mumbled. "She's my daughter."

Hermione laughed and yawned. "She's coming home with us, you know."

"Yeah, and Mum's probably going to move in," he said under his breath.

Hermione was asleep at the moment, going on two hours as she lightly snored, her blankets pulled all the way up to her chin. Her hair was piled up on top of her head in a messy bun, her face completely bare. Her head was tucked over to the side, and Ron was convinced her neck would hurt when she woke up but he wasn't about to move her - only because he tried to while the nurses took the baby to get her washed and cleaned and she threatened bodily harm.

"Touch me and die, Ronald," she mumbled.

"You're neck's going to hurt if you stay like that, love."

"My whole body hurts, and right now, I'm not moving and I don't feel anything," she replied, her eyes closed. "Touch me, and I will hurt you."

Looking back at Rose, Ron shook her little hand lightly, amazed at the firm grasp she hand around his index finger. "It's a good thing you have red hair," he mused softly. "Because the rest of you looks just like your mother…though that's probably a good thing, I reckon. She's the most beautiful person in the world, next to you now, of course."

He could swear, and would swear until his dying day, that she understood every word he was saying at that moment, giving him a single blink and what Ron thought looked like a little bit of a smile. Of course, every time he thought she was smiling earlier, his mother kept telling him it was gas. But he didn't believe her. If his daughter had any of her mother in her, she was already brilliant, and therefore could manage the simple task of smiling.

Ron was never a believer in the whole notion of love at first sight. After all, it took him three years to realize Hermione was a girl, and three more years after that to admit that he loved her. Quick on the uptake when it came to emotions was never his thing. But that all changed when Hermione's Muggle doctor handed him his daughter, and the instantaneous love he felt for his daughter nailed him in the gut like a ton of bricks.

"What are you doing, Rosie?" he asked, watching as she started to twist her head, nuzzling at his chest. "Oh…wait," he said after a moment, watching her previously calm face contort as she began to whimper. "You must be hungry, maybe, yeah?" he asked, carefully standing up with her cradled in both arms. "Yeah…I reckon I don't have what you're looking for, but Mummy will know what to do. That's a good rule to remember, Rosie. Mummy will always know what to do. Your dad...probably not so much."

Carefully, he walked over to Hermione and sat down on the edge of her bed. "Hermione," he said, leaning towards her ear and placing a kiss on her cheek. "Hermione, love, I think Rosie is hungry."

"Hmm?" she hummed, rolling her head towards him as she blinked her eyes. "Ron?" she said, somewhat confused. "Is everything ok?"

"Everything's fine," he quickly reassured her. "I just think Rosie's um…well…she's acting like she's hungry. I think she is anyway. I don't know. I could be wrong, maybe."

Hermione pushed her hands into the bed, wincing slightly as she propped herself up a bit against the elevated half of her bed and smiled tiredly at Ron. She laughed a little at how Rosie was now burrowing her face with much gusto into Ron's chest. "I don't think you're wrong," she said, unsnapping the top of her hospital gown at the shoulder. "If she's anything like you, she'll probably be letting us know quite shortly that she is in fact very hungry."

Sure enough, by the time Hermione had herself ready to feed her daughter, Rose had both of her little fists free from her swaddle, clenched tightly as she began to wail. "It's alright," Ron said in a panicky voice, trying to bounce a little bit as he held her to calm her down. "It's alright, Rosie, don't cry. Please don't cry."

"Come here, sweetheart," Hermione requested, motioning for Ron to hand her over. Carefully, he placed Rose in Hermione's arms and watched as she quickly and effortlessly moved Rose so that she had her cradled in the crook of one arm, placing Rosie's wailing lips right up to her breast while pulling up slightly on her breast with her other hand, watching Rose as she latched on to what she was searching for. "I read that breastfeeding would be unpleasant at first…I hope they were right about it getting better."

Ron shifted slightly, swinging his legs up onto the bed as he draped an arm around Hermione, peering down at his daughter. "Is she doing it wrong?" he nervously asked.

"She most definitely is not doing it wrong," Hermione said with an uncomfortable laugh. "It just hurts at the beginning. But I'll get used to it eventually. At least that's what I read, anyway."

He leaned over and kissed her temple, his hand finding the back of her neck as gently kneaded his thumb and fingers into her skin. The awe he had for his daughter almost compared to the awe he had for his wife, who with most things, seemed to make everything look easy. The way she held onto their daughter confidently with just one arm, how she relaxed into the bed as she fed her like it was something she'd done a thousand times before. Hermione didn't seem to be scared or timid when it came to Rose, whereas Ron was pretty convinced he would break her at some point between now and when they take her home.

"I wish I was like you," Ron mumbled, watching Rose as she continued to eagerly feed.

"Like me?" Hermione asked with a quiet chuckle. "Why's that?"

Ron shrugged, his fingers now lightly scratching at the nape her neck. "You just look so natural…like you know what you're doing and I'm just terrified…you know, that I'm going to bugger her up or something."

Hermione gave her husband a look. "And you think I'm not terrified?"

"You don't look it," Ron murmured.

"Well, I am," Hermione quietly replied, a hand lightly roaming over the top of her daughter's baby red curls. "I mean…just look at her. We're responsible for her…we're her parents. What if we completely screw her up?"

Ron's lips found Hermione's bare shoulder. "We won't screw her up," he reassured his wife.

"We might."

"We won't," Ron said, a little bit more confidentially. "With all the books you made me read, and then all the ones you read that you didn't make me read…we're going to be brilliant.

Hermione looked over at her husband, with tired eyes. "You really think so?"

"Yes," he softly replied.

The two of them gazed down at Rose, who was perfectly content suckling away, until of course her mother interrupted her. Carefully, Hermione pried her breast away from her daughter and moved her up to her shoulder, shushing whimpers as they quickly turned into quick, loud cries. "Shhh," she soothed, patting her daughter's back. "You can go back and eat as soon as you burp."

Ron pulled the part of Hermione's gown that was down back up, resnapping the metal clasps together at the shoulder. His daughter continued to wail, Hermione shifting her over to her now covered shoulder, still soothing her as she held her against her chest with one arm, her other arm unsnapping the other side of her gown. "Come on, Rose," she encouraged, her hand still rubbing her back. Finally, a loud belch caught both Ron and Hermione off guard, Ron laughing a little bit as Hermione pursed her lips together. She did her best not to smile at Rosie's gas but failed as she situated Rose over to her other breast. Like a seasoned champ, Rose nuzzled up against her mother and immediately latched on once she found what she was looking for, quelling her current cries.

"She was really angry there for a minute," Ron observed, settling back against the bed as Hermione relaxed back into him.

"I've learned that's what happens over the years, when a hungry Weasley is deprived of their food," Hermione teased.

Ron's cheeks tinted red, Hermione laughing as she leaned her head onto Ron's shoulder. "We have a baby," Ron commented a few moments later, his chin resting on top of her head.

"We have a baby," Hermione whispered, her eyes locked on Rose. "She's just so beautiful."

"Of course she is," Ron fondly replied. "She looks just like you."

"She has your hair though."

"Just the color, I reckon. Those curls are yours."

Hermione smiled. "I just…I can't believe she's here, and she's so perfect, and just…" she couldn't continue to talk, for her eyes were welled with tears, her emotions catching in her throat.

Ron shifted, moving so that he could see his wife's face, a thumb catching a tear as it trailed down her cheek. "Hey…hey what's a matter?"

She quickly shook her head, careful not to disturb her daughter, who had one of her little fists balled up, pressed into the side of her breast as she continued her rhythmic suckling. "Nothing," she managed to squeak. "I'm just…happy…and exhausted but really happy, and just…"

"Happy?" Ron offered with a laugh.

Hermione quickly nodded, wiping her tears of joy away with the palm of her free hand. "Everyone just kept telling us what we should do…when to get married and when to have a baby and we didn't listen to them and did everything on our terms and I'm just so happy we did because…I look at her, and us, and realize that all of it was worth the wait."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, his voice hoarse as he stared at his daughter. "I think I know what you mean." He leaned over, lightly catching his wife's lips with his, letting them linger for a moment before pulling away. "I love you, Hermione," he whispered.

"I love you too, Ron," she whispered right back.

Once Rosie was done feeding, Hermione burped her again and handed her over to Ron for him to swaddle her back up while she snapped up her gown. Watching him, she couldn't help but be mesmerized at how good he was with her, carefully tucking her into the blanket just like his mother showed him earlier. With some help from her wand, she expanded the size of her hospital bed once Ron had Rose safe in his arms, and gingerly moved her tender body over a bit so that Ron could climb back into bed with her more comfortably. Shifting as best as she could onto her left side - the side she favored when tired - she curled into Ron, who had a content and sleepy Rose propped up against his chest.

Hermione reached out and touched her cheek with her finger as her daughter's eyes fluttered shut. "You're going to be such a good father, Ron," she said.

Ron wrapped his other arm around Hermione, his hand rubbing up and down her arm. "I haven't been doing it for very long, you know. You may want to wait until later to make that judgment."

"I won't need to," Hermione replied through a yawn. "I already know you'll be brilliant."

"How do you know?"

"Because nobody knows you like I do," Hermione replied.

"I reckon you're right about that," Ron replied with a half smirk.

"I'm always right," Hermione teased, her comfortably increasing as she molded herself against her husband.

Ron summoned Hermione's blankets back up, grabbing the edge with his free hand to pull up over her shoulder as her eyes shut. Kissing her forehead, he looked down at his sleeping wife, then at his sleeping daughter, and grinned. He wasn't really sure how he ever got to be this lucky, but he was no longer going to question it. He had the love of his life on one side and a product of their love currently napping against his chest - in his opinion, life wasn't going to get much better than this.

This was the good life.