Word Count: 585

Ron swears softly under his breath as he makes his way through the crowded shop. Personally, he doesn't see the big deal about Halloween, or why so many people feel the need to flood the shops weeks before it happens. If given the choice, Ron would definitely still be at home now, probably enjoying an afternoon nap.

"Did you get lost?" Hermione asks affectionately, a soft smile curling the corners of her lips.

Ron chuckles and gestures around at the sea of people. "Something like that," he says dryly. "Bit busy, isn't it? Do you really want to dress up that badly?"

She gives him a look that says he clearly has misunderstood something. "Not for me, Ronald," she says with a sigh. "Rosie."

Rose is noticeably absent, spending the day with Ron's parents so he and Hermione can run a few errands.

Ron tips his head to the side, brows raised as he studies his wife. "Rosie is one five months old," he says, the words slowly coming out of his mouth because he doesn't want to say anything wrong. "It won't be the biggest tragedy if she doesn't have a costume this year. She can't even go trick or treating."

So much for not saying anything wrong. Hermione looks at him like he's lost his mind, like he's completely missing the point. Maybe he is. As much as he hates to admit it, Ron always seems to miss the things his wife sees.

"It's her first Halloween, Ron! This is a big milestone! What sort of patents would we be if we didn't buy our daughter a costume?"

And now he gets it. What feels like a lifetime ago, when Hermione first held up that positive pregnancy test, she had confessed that she wasn't sure if she was ready to be a parent. Ron remembers the way she would spend hours reading book after book on parenting, sometimes sobbing because what if she wasn't cut out to be a parent. She's come a long way, but sometimes, like now, Ron can see her doubts and insecurities slip through.

"We would still be good parents," he tells her. "But you're right. It's a special day, and Rose needs a costume."

Hermione softens at that. With a soft laugh, she throws her arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you. I know I can be a bit much sometimes."

"Just a bit," he agrees, and she playfully slaps his arm. "Oi!"

"You weren't supposed to agree with me," she says, chocolate-brown eyes twinkling in amusement. She pulls away and darts to the rack. "What about this?"

Ron can't see anything wrong with the dress (except that hot pink reminds him a little too much of Umbridge). "Is the crown heavy? I don't want Rose getting hurt."

"Plastic," Hermione assures him. "We can always charm it if we need."

Ron imagines his daughter in her little dress with a crown adorning her wisps of red hair, and he can't help but smile. "She'll be the most angelic little princess this world has seen," he says with a nod. "But… does it have to be pink?"

"It's a good color!"

"But Umbridge, Hermione!"

And with that, still bickering and laughing, they make their way to the till and pay for the costume. Maybe Ron still doesn't understand why a baby needs a costume for something they won't even remember, but it doesn't matter. Hermione is happy, and it's just another chance to make memories with his family.