"Tired, Daddy?" Fred asks as he crawls up into my lap.
"Mmm… you kids are so energetic. Did you have a good birthday? You wore your old man out." I say shifting slightly. The pain in my lower back has been getting progressively worse since I fell in the shed tripping on George's toy broom..
He nods and looks up.
"Need a drink of water?" He looks so innocent. Five years old, his mother's eyes and smile, almost makes me forget that under that innocent shell is a… one half of a monster.
"Now I wouldn't mind one. Get one for your old man Fred?"
He crawls off my lap and pads towards the kitchen. I close my eyes and lean back. Its moments like this I remember why I cried especially hard on the day the boys were born. The joy of two babies to add to the family was overwhelming. We learned very soon, Molly and me that with that joy came grief, and tricks and the terrorizing of the other children, but we were determined to raise them right. So far so good I thought.
Fred comes back into the room carrying a half filled glass of water. It looks clear and refreshing. I tip it up and down the water in a few gulps. He smiles and leans against the chair. I smack me lips and grin down at him. He seems so proud. Makes me feel good that under all that misbehaving he finds the greatest reward is when he helps people.
"How about another glass? That was mighty refreshing!" I hand the glass back and he scampers back towards the kitchen. He really is something….
"FREDRICK WEASLEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT GLASS IN THE TOILET?" I hear Molly screech.
"Dad was thirsty!" Fred giggles.