Ronald Billius Weasley stared out at the garden from his bedroom window. The new home was cozy and warm, much like the Burrow had been. It was from his window he observed his very pregnant wife play with the toddler. Hermione stood barefoot in the rising July sun, her face to the light, Rose's small fist wrapped around her finger. It was early still, but Hermione had always been an early bird, and it seemed as if Rose had also acquired the habit. A smile spread across his face as he watched the sun illuminate the faces of the two women he loved most. It was for peaceful moments such as this that the war had been fought. For quiet summer mornings, his friends had not died in vain. The air was crisp, cool, and clean as Ron pushed the window open. In the distance, a bird awoke its mate, eliciting a chirp of excitement. He could briefly make out Hermione's voice as she hummed a tune to their daughter, her voice low and steady. She murmured a bit to the little girl before lowering herself cross-legged into the grass. Rose took her place in mommy's lap, where they counted her toes and fingers and let the sun warm their hearts. Rose reached for a handful of dandelions nearby, eagerly offering them to her mother. Her pure giggle reached easily to where Ron still stood; proud of the life he had now created. He could scarcely imagine anything half as beautiful.

Smoothing his hair, Ron descended the steps to their kitchen, greeted by pictures which captured such precious moments. The wedding day, the birth of little Miss Rose, his sister Ginevra and Harry, a Weasley family portrait. A picture of Ronald, Hermione, and of course Harry was mounted along with these. Donning their Hogwarts robes and cheesy grins, the thirteen years olds in this picture all appeared so innocent. Although Ron could not remember this photo being taken, he had always thought it was a perfect representation of the trio's friendship. Conjuring a small cup of coffee, he moved to the doorway facing the same garden area he had been gazing at before. Hermione and Rose hadn't left, although Rose was giddily frolicking about the lawn, picking more dandelions and bringing them back to her mother. A dandelion crown was being constructed by her able hands, fascinating the small child. What simple things could cause a child such as Rose to be amazed.

Plopping herself onto the ground in front of her mother, she giggled periodically until the crown was complete. Hermione set it upon her daughter's head, which lead to the biggest grin yet to appear on Rose's face. She began to babble about her adventures as a princess, plotting elaborate balls and fancy feasts with excitement. Amazed by the little girl, Ron treaded through the soft green grass, the sun bright and shining. He arrived at his wife's side, greeted by a smile as he bent to tenderly kiss her forehead. Rose screeched in apparent excitement at her father's appearance and began to incorporate him into her storytelling as the knight in shining armor. Chuckling, Ron lowered himself beside Hermione, gently rubbing her stomach with one hand as if to wish the soon to be born baby a good morning as well.

Lacing Hermione's fingers with his own, he glanced toward the sun again, fully understanding for what purpose he had fought. For rising summer suns, a love that couldn't break, the innocence of a new life. It was for this they had fought. For this perfect moment, they had won.

A/N: Disclaimer: All characters, events, places, etc. used in this story belong to J.K. Rowling.

This story was written and given to me by a friend of mine that I assume wishes to remain anonymous I hope you enjoy; this story made me smile a bunch when I first read it.