QLFC — Round 9 — Captain: [Discovering your power] Your character has found out something new about themselves. How do they react? How do they deal with it?

Chudley Cannons Team Challenge: find a quote to be inspired by — 'every minute we spend overthinking is a minute not spent on the things that matter." — Anne Bogel

QL Pokemon — Charmander (Ron Weasley) catching Tropius (write about feeding someone)

QL Book Club: (action) giggling

Summary: Ron is excited to find out he's going to be a dad; but then the self-doubt creeps in and soon, he doesn't know if he'll be any good at it.

WC. 1848

The Perfect Rose

When Hermione tells Ron she's pregnant, he's excited. This is what he's wanted for so long, and after so much disappointment, of all the times they'd done the spell with no results, there is no greater feeling than knowing that in a few months' time, they'll be blessed with a little girl.

The feeling of watching his baby grow, feeling her kick against his hand, is indescribable. He hasn't even met her yet, and already he feels something he's never felt before — a strong, never-ending love that will stay with him forever. This is his baby, his daughter, and he is going to do whatever it takes to ensure she grows up happy and healthy, her every want and need tended to.

But as her impending birth draws nearer, something other than love begins to consume him.

Fear. Uncertainty. Despair.

He doesn't know what has triggered it, but once the thoughts pop into his head, they simply won't leave him alone. All the excitement of welcoming his daughter vanishes, replaced by an overpowering feeling of dread.

He is going to be a terrible dad. He doesn't have the first clue about looking after a baby. How is he supposed to know when she is hungry? How is he supposed to tell the difference between her wanting to be held or her wanting to be fed? What chance does he have in being a good father to this precious little girl when he can't even decide what to call her?

His fears eat away at him in the final month of Hermione's pregnancy. He can love his daughter now, when he hasn't met her, but what will happen when he actually sees her? Will he feel the same? And how can his overly large hands possibly pick up and hold someone so small and vulnerable? He'll crush her.

Part of him is contemplating not even being with Hermione when she has the baby. He'll surely do something to mess it up, and he wants his daughter to be born happy, healthy, and perfect. He can at least do that for her, even if he'll be a terrible dad. So, maybe he'll stay well away. Just in case.

But that plan goes out the window three days after his daughter is supposed to arrive. She is due on Christmas Eve, and while they anxiously wait for any sign, nothing comes. Christmas is a quiet affair, spent at their house with just the two of them. Still, nothing happens.

Then, the day after Boxing Day, on the twenty-seventh of December, it all happens at once. There is a plan, but babies don't have plans, and his little girl is no exception.

It's supposed to go slow — babies are supposed to take their time, right? Then, as things pick up, they will call for the Healer, and the Healer will take over.

But it doesn't happen that way. In the early morning of what turns out to be the greatest, yet most terrifying, day of Ron's life, his daughter is born.

The labour, which is supposed to go slowly, doesn't. In fact, it progresses so fast that there is no time for the Healer to arrive. It's just Hermione, Ron, and Ginny — who is conveniently visiting when it starts.

Ron has no choice. He can't run away, and he can't afford to mess things up, because Hermione's and his daughter's lives depend on him.

Little Rose is born into his arms. He wraps her in his jacket that he's conveniently left lying around, and despite her fast arrival, she is perfect in every way. She is happy, she is healthy. And the moment he lays eyes on her and sees her rosy cheeks, he just knows that she has to be called Rose.

His Rosie. His perfect Rose.

The nature of her birth is unexpected, but one he will cherish forever. He is the first to hold her, and she is so small, so tiny, and so very, very fragile. Much too fragile for him to ever pick her up again.

For the first few days of Rose's life, he can't bring himself to hold her. Hermione is great. She knows exactly what to do. She knows why Rose is crying. She knows when she is hungry, when she is tired, when she needs changing, or when she just needs to be held.

Ron doesn't. He lets his fears cloud his judgement. He thinks too hard on the matter.

I think she's crying because she's tired, but what if I'm wrong? He doesn't want to get anything wrong when it comes to Rose. She is too special for that.

Then, on the fourth day, with Ron doing his best not to touch Rose in any way that could break her, he has her thrust upon him by Hermione.

"Please hold her, Ron," Hermione says, and she sounds rather upset. Has it been that obvious, his reluctance to do anything but watch Rose sleep? She is so beautiful, so peaceful, when she sleeps. So perfect.

"Hermione, I don't… I don't want to break her," he whispers.

Despite her exhaustion, Hermione smiles. "You're not going to break her. You brought her into this world. Remember that."

So on Rose's fourth day of life, Ron takes his daughter into his arms. She is a perfect fit. Her little tuft of red hair sticks out on the top of her head, and immediately, her wide, observant eyes close. Little Rosie has fallen fast asleep in his arms.

"See," Hermione says, beaming at him. "You're better at it then you think."

Despite his earlier fears, Ron can't help but agree with Hermione. Holding Rose isn't as scary as he thought. She may be tiny, and his hands large and clumsy, but he would die before he allowed himself to hurt her. His job is to protect her, and he is going to do that. Forever.

And from that moment on, Hermione has to wrench their daughter from his arms, just so she is able to hold her as well.

Holding Rose isn't the only thing Ron realises he is good at when it comes to fatherhood. Over the next few months, as Rose grows — and grows she does — he discovers that his role as Rose's dad is something that is good; fun, in fact.

The more he gets to know his little girl, the more he finds out about her. He knows that at night, it's her mum that Rose wants, but during the day, she is more than happy to fall asleep in her dad's arms and stay that way for hours. He discovers that by tickling her under the chin, she gives him the gummiest, happiest smile he's ever seen, and his heart explodes with unconditional love for her.

His Rosie is absolutely perfect, and those fears he felt before she was born almost feel trivial now. He just had to learn how to be a dad. That is all.

One time, when Rose is six months old, she gets very sick. She is screaming, flailing her arms, and absolutely nothing either Ron or Hermione try seems to work. She is inconsolable, her fever running high, and they are moments away from taking her to St Mungo's.

He is panicking, tears streaming down his face, because seeing her in so much pain breaks him. He wishes it could be his pain — that maybe some kind of spell exists to transfer pain.

He takes out his wand, asking Hermione if she knows of something of the kind.

"Ron, I really think we should take her to a Healer." She is also panicked, stressed. Rose is screaming, fighting against her hold.

"She feels so hot!" Hermione cries.

Ron nods. He wishes he could be the one to help her, but he can't do everything for his Rosie, even if he wants to. They have her all bundled up, when Ron suddenly remembers something his mother used to do when he and his siblings were ever sick.

He takes her from Hermione's arms, and with gentle rocking, he starts singing to her. It is a song he's memorised from all the times he's heard it. He's a terrible singer, but desperate times…

It works. Soon, Rosie stops crying long enough for Hermione to slip the fever-reducing potion into her mouth.

He sings to her for over an hour, repeating the song over and over, too afraid to stop just in case she starts crying again. Finally, he is able to put her down — asleep, and not feeling hot anymore.

Hermione smiles up at him. "You're really good at this," she says.

"At what?" Ron asks.

"Parenthood. It suits you."

"It's something Mum used to do," Ron says with a shrug. It's nothing special, but it worked, he supposes. And he did think of it just in time.

"Well, it was really good," Hermione says.

Ron doesn't think he deserves the praise she is giving him, because it was just singing, but over the months, she continues to remind him how great a dad he is. The times when Rose giggles at his silly faces or how he's the only one she will allow to change her when she reaches nine months old.

"It's something about your voice," Hermione says after having lost a hard-fought battle in getting Rose into her pyjamas for the night. Ron had managed it in five seconds. "It's soothing."

Her constant reminders that he is great almost has Ron believing her, but it isn't until two months after the night of the pyjama fight that it really hits him. He is at home, and Rose is sitting in her highchair, giggling as he tries to feed her with a spoon. It is a game for Rose, turning her head every time the spoon comes close to her mouth.

"Come on, Rosie," he says on his fifth attempt to get the food in her mouth. "If you don't eat, you'll be hungry."

Rose shakes her head.

"Rosie."

Rose giggles, and Ron sighs. He sets the spoon back in the bowl.

"Alright, you win." He picks her up from the highchair, to which she giggles once more.

Nestled in his arms now, her favourite place to be, her big, blue, beautiful eyes stare up at him. For a moment, she simply watches. Then, completely catching Ron off guard, she says one simple word that will make him always remember this moment.

"Dad."

And then she makes a sound with her lips, as if she is kissing him. She giggles again, and rests her head against his chest.

For a while, Ron simply stands in the middle of the kitchen, holding her, completely mesmerised by what has just happened. She always babbles, but never has she said anything so clear-cut.

He is Rose's first word. She called him dad. Him.

And that is how he knows — how he finally accepts — that being a dad is something he can definitely do.

And he is damned good at it, too.

I'm back, after my team had a BYE in Round 8. Thank you to the beautiful Chudley Cannons for betaing this for me, and helping me to get it to a semi-respectable piece. This was a case of the idea struck me the moment I saw the prompt, but the words did not. I hoped you liked it :)