"Just like your Daddy, huh?" George beamed down at the almost toddler who somehow managed his way out of his crib and onto his dresser where he sat with three of his fingers in his mouth. It was better that he'd found Freddie like this instead of his mother who wouldn't have found he little escape artist to be as funny. She would've screamed, rushed over to him, and lectured a ten month old about how dangerous his actions were. Then she would've sat in the kitchen, unable to drink her tea or eat her breakfast because she was too busy going over theories out loud of how the baby had managed his way out of his crib and onto his dresser. Was he just incredibly restless and already showing signs of mischief like his father and his Uncle Fred or was this a very early sign of magic their baby boy would have to be taught to control?
Little arms stretched out for the tall ginger man to take him into his arms and George did just that, pressing his lips to the little boy's forehead and whispering into his auburn waves that where he'd found him would be just their little secret. "Are you hungry?" he asked the baby who removed his drool covered hand from his mouth to respond in gibberish. "Yeah, me too," George replied earnestly, always content to have one sided conversations with his son. "What do you say we get some breakfast?" As he made his way down the hall of their flat, pausing to pass by the room that he shared with his girlfriend to see that she was still peacefully asleep, he passed by a little girl who shared Freddie's auburn hair in the hallway. "Hiya, Rosie," he greeted her, finding it impossible not to grin when he was around the tiny human being.
"Hi, Daddy," the five year old slurred sleepily, bringing up her hands to rub at her eyes. Before she could bring her arms back down to her side, George scooped his daughter up in his other arm to press several play bites against her cheek making her shriek with laughter. "Mmm, children, they're so delicious!" he declared before depositing her to her feet again and following her out into the kitchen.
With George Weasley for a dad, dessert as the first dinner course was not uncommon as long as Rosie promised that she'd eat all of her vegetables. But dessert? For breakfast? "Unacceptable," the little girl's mother once declared. But she was asleep now and this was a special occasion afterall! Just as he'd timed it, the Disillusionment charm on the pastel pink box he'd left on the kitchen table the evening before was wearing off and he opened it to reveal a colorfully decorated cake from Honeydukes. Grabbing his wand from the counter, he gazed at the cake thoughtfully before charming it to say "Happy Birthday, Beautiful."
"Ooooh," Rosie said as she stood in front of him, still awestruck by her dad's magical skill. "Do you think Mummy will like that, kiddo?" The little girl nodded enthusiastically, tilting her head back to look up at her with bright blue eyes the size of baby moons. A final flick of his wand added tiny sparkler-like candles that made their kitchen look like a mini-firework show which impressed the baby who sat on his hip. "It was nothing, Freddie. I'll show you when you're three, okay?"
With one more flick of his wand and a barely muttered spell and the cake now carefully floated from the table between Rosie and her dad and little brother. "Okay, let's go wake Mummy up!" he declared and they were off through the small flat and on their mission.
"Happy Birthday!" Rosie declared as she jumped next to the young woman in bed. "Awww, Rosie, baby," she sighed, her voice full of tenderness. "Thank you." When she sat up and kissed the little girl, their features were nearly identical though with the exception of their hair color and Rose's freckles. Looking up, she saw the cake float into the room for several seconds before George followed with their son in his arms and covered her mouth with her hands as she gasped.
"Get in here, silly boys!" Her laughter was a little choked with tears as she reached out her arms to take the baby before showering him with kisses and hugging her daughter against her side again. George moved to stand against the door frame, taking the entire scene in. Happiness filled him as though it was his own birthday, and though everyday he was reminded of what had been stolen from him and never returned, because of his beautiful little family, his heart was no longer homeless.
"Your turn," she said after a few minutes of giggles with the two little ones, unable to blow the sparkler candles out. George slowly made his way over to their shared bed and held his cheek out for her to kiss though when she leaned over to do so, he turned his head so that their lips met despite Rosie's protests in the form of an "ewww."
"Happy Birthday, Hermione," he spoke against her lips when their kiss broke. "Twenty-five, is it? Merlin, you're old." When she gave him her signature look of disapproval, a broad grin broke over his features. "Old meaning beautiful, of course."