THERE. Ugh oh god I just need like one afternoon off of work.
23 December 2007
"You're all right?" Angelina whispered to George, who was resting his head on her shoulder as she fed Roxanne. "Rough night, for a Ministry party."
George nodded, putting out a hand and stroking Freddie's curly head; their four-year-old had developed an overwhelming fear of Father Christmas and refused to sleep in his own bed for a week. "I liked seeing those pictures Dennis had," he said heavily. "I just…hate that Fred was asking questions about it already."
Angelina nodded, looking down at Roxanne. "Me too. But…we named him—both of them, actually—after people they're never going to meet," she said. "Sooner or later, they'll have to know why."
"Yeah, and then they'll have to know more, and more, and they'll hear all this—this stuff," George said. He grimaced. "Can't we just…I don't know, keep them about that size?" he asked, pointing at Roxanne. "Maybe if we sat on Freddie…"
Angelina chuckled and patted the side of George's head. "We'll figure it out. I'm not exactly looking forward to telling this one about my mum and dad," she confessed, nodding at Roxanne. "But whenever it comes up, or however—we can do it together, right?"
"Right," George sighed. "We'll figure it out."
They were both quiet for a long time; Fred snorted in his sleep and rolled over on to George's side of the bed. George just pulled him closer and patted his back.
Then, as Roxanne was drifting back to sleep on Angelina's shoulder, Angelina whispered, "And if we chicken out, we can always get Harry to tell them whatever he plans on telling his kids. He has a lot more explaining to do than we have."
George laughed. "I like you, Johnson."
"You're all right," she answered, ruffling his hair as she got up to settle Roxanne in her crib once more.