Author: my-patronus-is-a-champagne-glass
Selected Trope: Only one bed
Brief summary: New parents Ron and Hermione share a bed in the hospital after the birth of their daughter Rose.
Word count: ~ 3,200 words
Trigger warnings: brief mentions of blood and torture
The soft glow of the street lamps that filtered through the curtains enveloped the small sterile hospital room, as Ron sat in awe, watching his exhausted wife cradling their newborn daughter against her chest.
Hermione looked gracefully beautiful in the dim light, a radiant glow emanating from deep within her. The soft curve of her cheek caught the gentle glow, while strands of her curly chestnut hair had escaped the loose bun on the top of her head, framing her pale face like a halo. That was probably what people called afterglow. Ron had only read about it, and until now, he hadn’t been able to understand what it meant. But as she lay there with their brand-new baby girl nestled against her bare chest, he knew exactly what people were talking about.
With a tender smile, he watched her gently caress the auburn hair of their peacefully sleeping baby girl, and shook his head in disbelief. He marveled at the strength that had emanated from her in the last thirty hours, both physically and emotionally. Overwhelming love and gratitude enveloped him for the woman beside him; the woman who had grown and brought their child into the world with unwavering determination and strength.
The pregnancy had been far from easy. Hermione had suffered from severe morning sickness practically her entire pregnancy. Ron vividly remembered the times when he had rushed her to the hospital in panic because she couldn’t even keep water down. There had been days when her weakness led the healers to keep her in, administering potions to replenish the essential fluids and nutrients crucial for both her and the baby.
“What are you thinking about?” Her frail voice pulled him away from the unsettling memories.
“How incredible you are,” he answered and rose from his chair, a gentle smile playing on his lips. He planted a tender kiss on her temple and whispered, “I love you.”
She turned her head to kiss him and he raised his hand to her pale cheek and kissed her back tenderly.
“I love you too,” she murmured, and he let his lips travel from her mouth, over her cheek, to her forehead, where he placed a final tender kiss before sitting down on the edge of the bed.
The baby girl stirred briefly, scrunching up her face, before she turned her head to the other side and went back to sleep. Ron gazed tenderly at the little being, once again feeling the urge to shake his head to comprehend everything that had happened in the last few hours.
The room was silent again, no words were needed. The only sound to be heard was the bustling hospital floor in front of the door and a distant anguished scream of a woman who seemingly still had ahead of her what Hermione had just gone through.
As he watched his little family, Ron’s heart swelled with endless pride and admiration. His gaze fell back from the sleeping baby to his wife, her tired eyes now closed as she was propped up against a bunch of pillows with their little girl bonding on her bare chest. It seemed as if she had finally managed to fall asleep. She looked so small and vulnerable, lying there with her pale face and her delicate shoulders free, exhaustion radiating from every fiber of her body. Ron knew that this moment would be etched in his memories forever.
Suddenly his stomach grumbled loudly and he noticed that he hadn’t eaten anything for more than twenty hours, as he had been so focused on helping Hermione through everything. Careful not to disturb the peaceful scene, Ron rose from the bed and tiptoed toward the forgotten hospital bag on the wooden chair in the corner, hoping to find a snack to curb his hungry stomach. After quietly rustling through the bag, he found an oat bar hidden in the depths of it and pulled it out with a content grin.
Just as he was about to take a bite, he heard Hermione’s muffled, weak voice in the background, and turned to find her watching him with a curious expression.
“What are you doing, love?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”
“I was just looking for a snack. Are you hungry too?”
“No,” she replied with a soft yawn.
“Go back to sleep, love,” he told her again, approaching the bed and placing the oat bar on the nearby table. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
“You should sleep, too. I know you’re exhausted.”
“This isn’t about me. You’ve been through so much. You should really sleep while our little miss is still asleep,” he insisted, glancing at the peacefully slumbering bundle on his wife’s chest.
Hermione’s labor had been an arduous journey, spanning nearly thirty excruciating hours. She had endured each contraction with steadfast determination and bravery. She could still see her face in front of him, pain etched across it as relentless waves of intensity had swept through her body for hours and hours on end. The hospital room had echoed with the rhythm of their little girl’s monitored heartbeats and the whimpering sounds of Hermione’s labor.
Ron was well aware of his wife’s resilience. She had always been unswerving and able to cope with immense workload. Yet, the strength it had required her to bring a new life into the world had caught Ron completely off guard. The healers and midwives had worked tirelessly, offering support and guidance through the challenging process, both to her and to him. As the hours had passed without real progress, the toll on Hermione’s physical and emotional strength had become increasingly evident and very hard to witness. Yet, she had pressed on, drawing on pools of inner strength he didn’t know she possessed. Ron had found it very difficult to witness his wife in such intense pain. The room had seemed to close in on him as her distress had intensified and she had started crying and moaning in pain, her noises filling him with helplessness. Stricken by the echoes of the war, he had fought hard to separate her cries from the haunting screams of her past torture. He had to repeatedly reassure himself that this time her pain was necessary and held the promise of a huge reward - their long-awaited baby girl.
“You need to rest too,” Hermione interrupted his memories with a soft smile. “Both of us.”
“You just had a baby, love. I’ll take her and wake you when she needs to nurse.”
She gently shook her head, reaching for his hand. “No, come lie down with me.”
Ron hesitated, as he surveyed the small, cramped hospital bed. “Love, the bed is too narrow for both of us,” he reasoned gently. “You’ve given your last shred of strength and I want you to rest.”
She managed a weak smile. “I appreciate that, but I‘m not strong enough to argue with you right now. Please, Ron, I need you close.”
Ron sighed. “I’d love to join you, really, but I don’t want to add to your discomfort. I know you’re sore. You need to recover, and squeezing myself into this bed won’t help.”
Her exhausted eyes pleaded with him. “I’m not going to argue with you. Just lie down with me. I’ll only be able to sleep if you’re close.”
She gazed at him with her large, fawn-brown eyes, and he sensed his defeat. Despite knowing that wedging his tall, lanky frame onto the narrow mattress wouldn’t be comfortable or restful for her, he was equally certain that in the current situation, he absolutely couldn’t deny her any requests.
With a careful manoeuvre he joined her on the narrow hospital bed, kissing her pale cheek in the process.
“Let me take her,” he implored. “Then you can try to get comfortable.”
Hermione carefully placed the peacefully sleeping baby onto Ron's chest before turning to her side, letting out a wince as she nestled against him. Ron’s arm instinctively encircled her, supporting her in adjusting her tired and aching body.
As they lay there as a family of three for the first time, a tsunami of emotions overwhelmed him. The tiny, fragile being in his arms, a product of their love, made him marvel at the miracle of life. Ron had yearned to be a father for so long, but now that it had finally happened, the reality felt surreal and, at the same time, quite frightening. Nothing could have prepared him for the intensity of the emotions flooding through him in this very moment; emotions he didn’t even know were possible.
Hermione wiggled against him, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she attempted to find a comfortable position for her battered body. Feeling her movements against him, Ron instinctively adjusted his position to make more room for her on the cramped bed. Once she seemed settled against him, he pressed another kiss to her forehead.
“I told you to sleep, love.”
“Yeah, sure, I totally buy that. Just went through over 30 hours of agony, shed like ten liters of blood, but nope, Hermione’s not tired.”
“It just feels so surreal.”
“It does, I know what you mean, but seriously, try to catch some sleep. She’s likely to wake up hungry soon.”
“It was a wild ride, wasn’t it?” she mumbled into the crook of his arm.
“Wild is an understatement,” Ron quipped with a snort.
“I didn’t even realize I lost so much blood.”
“Honestly, I don’t know what’s considered normal, but to me it looked like a bit of a massacre. There was a lot. The healers were surprisingly cool about it, though, so I guess it wasn’t as bad as it looked.”
“Thank you for being there.”
“I didn’t do anything. You did all the hard work.”
“You did more than you think. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Hermione asked, gently caressing the baby’s cheek with her fingertips.
“She’s perfect,” Ron answered, kissing the tiny head.
“I can’t believe she came out of me.”
“I can assure you, she did. I was right there.”
“It’s so surreal to think we’re parents now.”
Ron smiled down at the little bundle on his chest.
“You were incredible, love. I’ve never seen anyone handle something so intense with such strength.”
“I had my moments of doubt, to be honest, especially during the end.”
“You know, it was really hard watching you in that much pain. I was really worried when you started screaming.”
“I didn’t even notice. I’m sorry I scared you,” Hermione said, a grateful smile playing on her lips. “Thank you for staying strong for me.”
“You know,” he began softly, “I was reliving some of the darkest moments of the war.”
Hermione’s eyes looked up. “Ron…”
“Well, don’t get me wrong, but your sounds - the cries, the pain - it was hauntingly familiar. It felt like I was right back at the manor. I wasn’t prepared for it to be that intense. I tried to remind myself that this time, your pain would be rewarded.”
She nodded, her fingers reaching up to caress his stubbled cheek. “It's strange how life comes full circle, isn’t it? We faced so many evil and dark things together, and now we’ve brought something so good and pure into the world.”
Ron’s eyes softened as he studied her. “You were so brave, love.”
A faint, content smile graced her lips. “I had quite a good motivator.”
Ron leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead again. “I really wish I could’ve taken your place, or at least taken away some of the pain.”
As soon as he had said it, he realized he didn’t really know which situation he was referring to. The nightmare of his life when he couldn’t come to Hermione’s aid all those years ago, or the arduous and agonizing birth of their daughter, just a few hours prior? Perhaps he also meant both, and it was just as blurred together as it had felt a few hours ago.
Hermione sighed, leaning into his touch. “You did more than you know. You kept me going when I felt like I had nothing left.”
Her response subtly implied that she wasn’t specifying one event over the other either.
“I want you to sleep now,” Ron ordered gently and tightened his hold around her. "I’ll be right here.”
Hermione nodded, her eyes already closing. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he whispered, pressing a final kiss to her temple, before slowly and carefully pulling the blanket up around the three of them.
As soon as they were settled, Ron looked down at the tiny fragile figure on his chest and then back to his wife whose breathing had finally started to become slower.
He had to take a deep shuddering breath as he was suddenly overcome by a boundless love surpassing anything his heart had ever experienced. He thought he knew what love was. He loved Hermione, and he loved her so deeply that he’d willingly sacrifice everything for her in the blink of an eye. But it had not dawned on him until now that he could love her even more than before after she had given birth to their baby girl. And in addition to the deepening love for Hermione, there now existed another love - distinct and incomparable to what he felt for his wife. It was something entirely different, pure and profound, so omnipresent, all-encompassing and unconditional that he almost couldn’t grasp its intensity. This had to be the kind of love everyone spoke of. This had to be the kind of love Harry and Bill had mentioned. Omnipresent, all-encompassing and unconditional, and although the little girl wasn’t even three hours old yet, and Ron had no idea who she would become, it was a love unmistakably destined to last forever.
He took in a shuddering breath and at the same time, their newborn daughter stirred. His gaze shifted downward, and a tender smile formed on his lips as he watched Rose’s uncoordinated movements. Her eyes fluttered, her mouth parted, and a soft whimper escaped, while her tiny fists clutched Ron’s shirt. Then she instinctively and heartwarmingly turned her little head, nuzzling against Ron’s chest with an open mouth.
“There, there, Rosie. I’ve got all the love in the world for you, but I’m afraid I haven’t got what you’re looking for. The milk bar is right over there with Mummy.”
Very gently, Ron caressed his daughter’s tiny back with his fingertips in an attempt to lull her back to sleep. He continued his tender efforts, hoping to soothe her so Hermione could get a bit more rest. Unfortunately, his attempts proved fruitless as Rosie’s quest for milk on his chest suddenly turned frantic. Shifting his hand, he cradled the small, unsteady head, providing support as the little girl turned it left and right with an open mouth, attempting to suckle on his shirt.
“Sorry, sweetie, Daddy doesn’t have anything for you,” he soothed and a second later Rose added her not so soft voice to the mix, letting out a croaking whimper.
“Oh, no, please don’t cry. Let’s wake Mummy, yeah?”
As the little girl’s whimpers intensified and her frantic search for sustenance continued on Ron’s chest, he gently reached out his hand to touch Hermione’s cheek to wake her up.
“Hermione, love, I’m sorry but you need to wake up.”
Hermione stirred and let out a small wince, her eyes opening but instantly closing again.
“Please, love, she needs you,” he coaxed, as Rose croaked again, her tiny mouth continuing to turn left and right, seeking sustenance from different parts of Ron’s shirt. Between each attempt, she expressed her frustration with a heartfelt cry.
“Hermione!” he urged a little louder while Rose’s cries escalated into full-on screaming, and a moment later her strident sounds echoed through the room.
“Shh, please don’t cry, Rosie. I’ll wake up, Mummy. Just hold on,” he tried to soothe the baby girl with gentle shushes as Rose alternated between heart-wrenching screams and desperate suckling on his shirt.
As his gentler attempts failed, he opted for a more determined shake of his wife’s shoulder, hoping that this would wake her up.
“Hermione! Rosie needs you. She’s hungry, and really upset. Can you please wake up?”
This finally startled Hermione awake, and she attempted to sit up in bed with a wince. However, the lingering soreness from the arduous labor seemed to make the simple act of sitting up very challenging. Noticing her discomfort, Ron quickly stood up to place the heart-wrenchingly screaming and uncoordinatedly flailing newborn in the crib so he could help his wife sitting up.
He carefully supported Hermione, helping her into a sitting position, and positioning a pillow behind her back. Ron then picked up the starving newborn, who was still screaming at the top of her tiny lungs, and held her close, trying to soothe her as Hermione tried to find a comfortable position for nursing. The tiny newborn was in complete distress, wailing and squirming, and Ron was taken aback by how rapidly she had gone from deep sleep to full-on hunger-induced frenzy.
Once he was satisfied that Hermione was in a reasonably comfortable position, he carefully handed the wiggling baby over to her. She cradled Rose to her chest, whispering words of comfort as she tried to get the wildly flailing and screaming newborn to latch on. The little girl had become so desperate that it took several attempts before her cries finally subsided and she began to nurse.
Ron couldn’t help but chuckle softly and remarked, “Well, someone was really angry there for a moment.”
“Seems like she takes after her parents. Strong-willed and not afraid to voice her opinion.”
He chuckled again before leaning in and pressing a tender kiss on his wife’s lips.
“Love you more,” she repeated his words from earlier and smiled up at him with tired eyes.
After planting another kiss on her lips, Ron took a seat on the edge of the bed again, watching the tender and incredibly peaceful scene in front of him. While the newborn peacefully continued eating, Hermione closed her eyes and tilted her head back onto the pillow.
“I am so tired,” she mumbled and let out a wide yawn.
Her yawn seemed to be contagious because a second later, Ron found himself yawning too. He was so unbelievably exhausted and almost felt ashamed for it, considering how his wife must be feeling after what she had endured. In the fog of his fatigue, Ron suddenly came to a stark realization – this was their new normal. He had to get used to being bone-tired because as of now the red-haired bundle would dictate their sleep patterns and redefine their routines, no matter how worn out they already were.
“I guess this is it,” Ron murmured to himself with a lopsided grin.
Hermione, her eyes still closed, chuckled softly, “Welcome to parenthood, love.”
