Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
"Oi! Get back here, you!" Ron yelled as he chased after his now sixteen-month-old daughter, who was giggling and crawling at top speed around the sitting room. Rose had almost reached the kitchen when her father finally caught her. "Gotcha!" he exclaimed before proceeding to tickle the little girl's tummy.
Hermione came in at that moment, smiling at the scene. "You know," said Ron over Rose's giggles, "I dread the day when Rosie starts walking. We'll really be in trouble then."
"I'm sure we can handle it. By the way, supper's nearly ready. Why don't you get Rose ready while I set the table?"
Several moments later found the family seated at the kitchen table, Ron feeding Rose a forkful of mashed potato. "Here comes the dragon! Rawr!"
"Rawr!" repeated Rose; her father quickly got the food into her mouth. After taking a few bites of his own food, he asked, "'Mione, when are you going to start cooking with magic?"
"Ron, we've discussed this before. Just because we're wizards doesn't mean we have to rely on magic for every little thing."
"But you're excellent at magic! You're better than me and Harry put together! Besides, I don't see the point of doing things the Muggle way."
Before Hermione could respond, a high-pitched bark sounded nearby. Sam, the little terrier Ron and Hermione had recently bought for Rose, was standing near the table and wagging her tail while looking up hopefully at the family as they ate. Rose promptly took a small bit of chicken and dropped it on the floor; Sam proceeded to gobble it up.
"Anyway," said Hermione after the dog had trotted out of the kitchen, "there's nothing wrong with you doing your share of the cooking from time to time. It's not just a woman's job, you know."
"I never said it was!" protested Ron. "I'm only saying since you're so good at spells, you could use them to cook!"
Hermione sighed and turned back to her supper. She'd considered pointing out that she had tried cooking with magic a long time ago when the Golden Trio were on their Horcrux hunt and that it hadn't exactly worked out so well, but she had a feeling Ron would not have listened.
Two days later, Rose was playing catch with Sam while her mother sat nearby writing a report for work. At one point the rubber ball rolled toward the kitchen, and as Sam ran to fetch it, Rose attempted to stand up on her own. After a few tries, she finally managed to clumsily push herself up onto her feet. She then took three wobbly steps before swaying and falling sideways, bumping her elbow against the sofa, which caused her to start bawling.
Hermione quickly jumped up from her armchair and rushed toward her daughter. "What happened, sweetie?!" she asked in alarm. "Did you hurt yourself?" She picked up Rose and examined her for injuries; luckily there were no visible wounds, but the bushy-haired witch began to rock Rose gently until the infant's sobs died down. Sam then trotted up and licked Rose's face, causing the little girl to giggle. Hermione smiled; apparently she'd made the right decision by getting a dog, for Sam was excellent at comforting Rose.
About five minutes later, just as Hermione was on her way to the kitchen to feed Sam, she saw something out of the corner of her eye that made her quickly turn around. As she watched, Rose struggled to her feet and took a few shaky steps toward her mother.
Hermione gasped in excitement. "Rosie! You just took your first steps!" she cried, picking up the infant and hugging her. "Mummy's so proud of you!"
Later that evening, Ron stepped through the front door with a deep sigh. Today had not been one of his better days; he had been assigned to go after a wizard who'd been spotted mugging elderly witches at wandpoint in a London suburb. The Auror's attempt to apprehend him had been unsuccessful, and he'd received a severe tongue-lashing. On top of that, he'd Splinched himself upon Apparating in front of the Granger-Weasley house, as evidenced by a missing chunk of his nose.
"Bad day, Ron?" asked Hermione sympathetically, looking up from the Evening Prophet.
"Yeah," replied Ron, pulling out a bottle of dittany and applying it to his mutilated nose. "I'd rather not talk about it."
"Well, I've got something to show you that'll cheer you up." Hermione proceeded to lift Rose out of her playpen and set her on the floor between herself and Ron.
"Hang on!" said Ron loudly. "D'you mean...?" Hermione nodded with a huge smile on her face. Ron grabbed a Chocolate Frog from the coffee table and held it out in front of him. "Want a froggy, Rosie Posie?"
"Yeah! Fwoggy!" shrieked Rose; taking wobbly steps toward Ron, holding out her hand. Once she'd grabbed the Frog, she plopped down on her bottom and ate the sugary treat happily.
"That's my girl!" Ron said proudly, ruffling Rose's russet curls. A few minutes later he took her upstairs for her bath, all memories of his disastrous day at work forgotten.