Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction and no profit, monetary or otherwise, is being made through the writing of this.
A/N: George and Fred are a little older than Ginny and Ron in this than they are in canon. Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 365 prompts challenge: Babysitting
"Fred, I think you're doing it wrong," George says.
He's peering over his twin's shoulder, nose scrunched up in disgust as he watches Fred change Ginny's nappy. Ron's running around the room, buck naked, singing a lullaby at the top of his lungs. In retrospect, he really should not have given him that chocolate frog, and he should have chosen to keep track of Ginny rather than Ron.
"If you think I'm doing it wrong, then do it yourself," Fred retorts, looking over his shoulder at his unhelpful brother.
"On second thought, I think you're doing just fine," George says, backing away before his twin can push their squirming sister into his arms.
"Get Ron in his pajamas," Fred says, turning back to Ginny, making faces at her and tickling her belly to make her giggle as he changes her nappy.
George spins around, trying to locate his younger brother and silently curses Merlin when he discovers that Ron has somehow managed to climb on top of the wardrobe.
"Get down from there," George says, suddenly more tired than he's ever been.
Ron blows raspberries at him, and when George stands at the base of the wardrobe, ready to catch his baby brother, the little boy grins (diabolically in George's later recollection of the event) and pees right on his head.
Sputtering, George stands there, dumbstruck for a full minute before he finally finds his voice. "RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, YOU GET DOWN FROM THERE THIS INSTANT," he shouts in a fair imitation of their mother (he suddenly has a new appreciation for what she has to put up with in raising six boys).
Ron goes stock still and then his bottom lip starts to tremble, big fat tears roll down his chubby, red cheeks and before George knows what's happening, the boy is falling from the top of the wardrobe and he barely has time to catch the sniveling mess to keep him from cracking his head on the floor. Ron's inconsolable, his cries drowning out Ginny's happy giggles. Fred has managed to successfully put the nappy and pajamas on their sister, and George is stuck with a squalling tomato in his arms.
Shaking his head and giving George a look of supreme disappointment, as though he can't understand how they can possibly be twins, Fred reaches for Ron, depositing Ginny in George's arms seamlessly, and manages, within a few short seconds to get the little boy calmed down enough to dress. It's like magic, really.
In the meantime, Ginny is giving George a look that borders on distrust, her bottom lip quivering dangerously. George can feel pee dripping down his head, into the back of his shirt, down his face and prays to Merlin that it doesn't drip into his eyes. He's had enough, honestly. The next time his parents want to go on a date and leave them in charge, he's going to run away. Fred is the better babysitter anyway.