George paces back and forth as he waits for Angelina to arrive home. Freddie has just gone down for his nap and won't be back up for another hour or two if he's lucky. The ring in his pocket feels like lead. Thankfully, he doesn't have to run the shop today because Ron said that he would take over.

It takes Angelina another thirty minutes before she arrives. As soon as the door swings open, Freddie's screams pierce the air. Angelina gives George an apologetic look before rushing into the one-year-old's room. The cries stop almost immediately. Finally, Angelina returns to the living room with their son on her hip and a smile on her face.

"How long has he be down?" she asks, bouncing the boy on her hip.

"Not long," George answers. "About thirty, maybe forty-five, minutes."

"Did you wanna see your mamma?" Angelina coos to Freddie. "Yes, you did. Yes, you did. I thought you were taking him to your mum's for the day?"

"Changed my mind," he tells her. "Come here."

She makes her way toward the couch and hands Freddie to him when the baby reaches for him.

"Did you go to work today?" she asks, snuggling into his side.

"No," he sighs. "Didn't feel like it. Besides, I don't think he minded."

Freddie smiles at them before grabbing onto Angelina's braids and stuffing one into his mouth. Gently, Angelina takes it from him and hands him a toy.

"We've got to do something about his teething problem," she says. "He can't keep chewing on my braids and I hate hearing him cry when his gums hurt."

"Mum said applesauce helps," George shrugs. "We could try that."

"We could," she replies, tickling the baby's tummy. "You want me to go get some?"

"No!" George shouts as she sits up a startled look on her face. "I just mean. . . .not yet."

"Ok," she nods. "He's fine right now anyway."

"I wanted to run something by you," he says as he looks down at Freddie, who grins up at him.

"Yeah?" Angelina replies, leaning back into his shoulder. "What's that?"

Quickly, he snatches the ring from his pocket and slips it into her hand. "Marry me?"

"Those words are all I need to be yours forever," she mutters as she opens the box.

"What?" George asks.

Angelina waves him off. "Something I read." Gently, she slips the ring on her finger. "Of course, I'll marry you."