Disclaimer: Not me. :'(

Six Weasleys, two Potters, and two Grangers anxiously tapped their feet in a private St Mungo's waiting room. The bright white walls and tiled floor caused them to squint, and the occasional wail of a baby would catch their attention.

Mrs Weasley sighed impatiently and bobbed over to sit with her husband, who was being encouraged to try a new sweet by her second- youngest son, George. She quickly confiscated it, knowing too well what his invented confectionary could do.

Bill and his wife, Fleur, were cuddled in one chair to escape the cold room and soon, when he was instantly bored again, were joined by George. This made the couple laugh loudly, earning them a few dirty looks through the glass window, from passing Healers.

"So, where is Charlie, Molly?" Mr Granger asked, attempting small talk.

"Romania." was all she said. Mr Granger nodded slowly, remembering that he had been told not half an hour ago.

Ginny and Harry both stood suddenly; Harry began to pace and the redheaded woman fiddled aimlessly with her wedding ring.

"George? I bet you a Galleon it's a boy." Percy offered from his chair.

"You're on." George leant across his sister-in-law, to slap hands with his brother.

The only sound in the room after that, was Mrs Granger's tapping on her knees and Ginny's tuneless humming.

Suddenly, the heavy white door swung open with no effort at all and a panting Ron burst in. His hair was sticking up and sweaty, and his cheeks were bright red; but a huge smile was stretched across his face and his blue eyes were sparkling. He was wearing a hospital shirt over his work clothes; dark trousers and a blue top; and it was baggy and creased, like someone had been pulling on it. Hard.

As soon as he shot into the room, all ten residents jumped to their feet.

"Oh, Ron! Is she okay?" Mrs Granger squealed, her face buried in her hands.

Ron hesitated, grinning and getting his breath back.

"Which 'she' is that?" He asked, laughing. Hermione's mother took a moment to process this, then went pale and almost fell back onto her husband.

"It's a girl?" Mrs Weasley cried happily, tears streaming down her face.

"Yes. Yeah!" Ron laughed again, still out of breath, and threw himself into his mother's arms. When Mrs Granger had recovered, she pulled Ron back and kissed him sloppily on the forehead.

"Thank you. Thank you." She said, crying, and tugged him into a hug.

Percy grumbled to himself from across the room and, as he hopped over to join his ecstatic younger brother, slipped a Galleon into George's hand. George chuckled, as Percy cursed quietly.

"Ron!" Fleur cried. "Vat does she look like?"

"She's quite small. Hermione's eyes, big and chocolatey." Ron chuckled. "She held my finger twice, tight grip." He waved a crimson index finger at them.

"And the hair?" His father asked. All stared at him expectantly, as Ron paused.

"Flaming red!" He grinned and a few cheered.

"Yes!" Bill laughed and Fleur patted his chest.

The door creaked and a brunette nurse peeked in.

"Mr Weasley?" Five heads looked over at her.

"Ron." She giggled. "She's asking for you." Ron turned to his family.

"I'd better go. I just wanted to tell you lot." He smiled.

"Tell Hermione, 'well done' for us!" Mr Granger called.

"Tell her we love her." Ginny.

"Say, 'congratulations on the Weasley hair'!" Harry.

"Say, let's hope Baby's not too much like Dad'."

Ron glared at George,then chuckled, unable to be angry.

He jogged out of the waiting room and followed the nurse back down the long corridor to the maternity ward. When they reached the room, she opened the locked door for him.

"Thanks, Jen." He said, before patting her on the shoulder and hurrying into the cool suite.

Hermione was lying in the angled bed with her eyes closed, dressed in a pair of long pink pyjamas. A thin blue blanket was tucked around her waist. Her wavy brown hair splayed over the pillow around her tired, red face and her eyelashes fluttered as Ron closed the door.

He had padded silently over to her beside and sunk into the low chair, squeezing her hand, until he noticed the small, mobile crib at the foot of the bed.

"Hi." Hermione croaked.

"Hi, honey." Ron lightly kissed her warm forehead, absentmindedly stroking her fingers. His wife was still breathing slightly heavily and she sounded like she had a sore throat; Ron wasn't surprised.

"How are you feeling?" Ron regretted his words immediately; he knew well how she was feeling. He expected a thrashing, as that was what he had gotten used to over the last nine months, but Hermione just chuckled weakly.

"Alright. Just tired. And sore." She shifted and flinched for effect. Ron grasped her hand tighter.

"Don't move, 'Mione." Hermione gladly accepted, and sunk back down into the pillows.

"Ginny says she loves you, your mum says 'well done', Harry says something about the Weasley hair," Ron chuckled. "And George... well he'll probably tell you another time." Hermione's brown eyes bore into his, as she chuckled lightly and shook her head as she laughed.

Ron's eyes flashed again to the crib at her feet. Hermione noticed him.

"That's why I asked for you to come back." She smiled, her eyelids drooping. "You haven't held her properly yet. So, go ahead, while I catch some sleep." She mumbled the last words and closed her eyes as soon as she did. Ron kissed her palm and stood, placing her arm by her side on the mattress.

He cautiously stepped over to the crib.

He had only seen his daughter for a minute or so, and had only felt her hand. He wanted to feel her completely; hold his baby girl properly, as Hermione had put it.

His breathing hitched as he peered over into the metal cot.

In the exact middle of the long basket, a bundle of think, pink blankets were wrapped around a tiny body like a cocoon. The bottom wiggled as she tried to raise and lower her feet, and she had managed to extract one chubby arm. Her little fingers had curled into a fist and she waved it around at the ceiling, as if she were counting the tiles. Her shocking orange hair seemed to have grown since Ron had last seen her and he laughed quietly.

Hearing his happy laugh, the baby's chocolate eyes flicked over in his direction, searching the sound out. When she spotted him, she opened her mouth and gurgled quietly.

Ron was barely breathing as he reached out and tickled her tight fist with his thumb. Her fingers unclenched immediately and she grasped it. He chuckled and slid the other hand under the bundle. She didn't object, so he lifted her off the mattress a little. She just gurgled again.

In one fluid movement, Ron lifted her out of the crib and into his arms. In the movement, her other arm broke free from the bundle and she poked him gently under the chin, running her thin fingertips over his stubble. With his left hand, Ron squeezed the end of the blankets, feeling each of her toes wiggling about as she got comfortable.

Soon, she had snuggled into him, her orange hair curling onto his arm and her fingers closing around a handful of his shirt. Ron exhaled shakily, stroking the pink blankets and her soft cheeks in turn. He smiled in disbelief at his baby girl, and wandered slowly around the room, bouncing gently. He padded over to the window and carefully opened the thin blind with one hand.

"See that, baby?" He whispered, tilting her towards the glass. Her brown eyes flickered back open and she stared wonderingly out of the window. "See those red things? They're called flowers. You see them?" The baby gurgled; Ron took this as a 'yes'.

"They're special flowers. They're called roses. I gave Mummy a rose once. They're pretty; like you." He cooed at her and tickled her cheek. She opened her mouth into a wide 'O', as her eyes flicked between the roses outside and her father.

Ron sighed and rocked her again.

"Rose." Said a voice from behind him. He turned around quickly to face Hermione, sat up in bed, tears slipping down her face.

"What? What's wrong?" He shot over the bed and sat down, readjusting the baby and wiping away his wife's tears.

"Nothing's wrong." She giggled, sniffing. "You just thought of the perfect name." She gazed down at her drowsy daughter in Ron's arms. "Rose."

Ron followed Hermione's eyes, chuckling breathily.

"Rose." He repeated.

"Pretty; like she is." Hermione repeated with a loving smirk. Ron laughed aloud and kissed her hard on the forehead. He shuffled closer to her, laying together on the mattress, their baby sleeping between them. Hermione stroked her cheek, and then her hair, then rubbed her own stomach.

"Still sore?" Ron whispered.

"I don't care." Hermione said, and locked eyes with Ron. "I have her. We... have her." Her voice cracked and Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"We sure do, 'Mione. Our little baby Rose."

A/N: I think I might make this a multi-chapter one?

R+R! X