It seemed that every few months, the extended Weasley family (including several Potters and one Snape) gathered in the waiting room of the St. Mungo's delivery room. Just five months ago had seen the arrival of George and Angelina's first son, Fred Weasley II (the family called him Freddie). Now it was George's identical twin pacing the floor while his wife was in labor with his firstborn. Fred handled it about the same as George: alternating between anxious prattling scattered with weak jokes, and silence.
Every few minutes, Molly will eye the double doors as her nimble fingers knit yet another newborn hat. Unlike with her other grandchildren, Molly did not know the sex of the baby as Rory, her muggle daughter-in-law, insisted that the baby's sex must be a surprise if she were to give birth at St. Mungo's. Severus looked over at his anxious wife, her anxiety rivalry the father-to-be's, and skulked over to the corner. If it were up to him, Severus would be in his lab and meet the new grandchild after the big fuss and cooing. Yet a heavily pregnant Rory had a gave passionate speech about how her own father, being a muggle, and Fred's father, being dearly departed, couldn't be there on this blessed day, so Severus simply must be in attendance.
It had been several hours when the doors to the delivery room opened. (Births assisted by magic tended to take a lot less time than Muggle births, which was the reason Rory agreed to St. Mungo's.) Fred whipped toward the door, his eyes as big as an owl's. George, unsettled by his twin's unease and ready to offer support, jumped up and took a few steps forward.
"Mr. Weasley?" the assistant healer looked about, at a loss, and then seemed to decide to speak to Fred and George generally. "Congratulations, you have a healthy-"
"Excellent, now gangway, mate!" Fred charged past the assistant healer into the delivery room. The assistant healer hurried from the room to see to some other important errand before the family could interrogate her.
"Hey, hey miss! Well, that's nice," George grumbled. "We still have no idea if it's a boy or a girl."
"Girl, girl," Ginny squealed, rubbing her swollen belly. She was due with her third child, a girl after two boys, in a week and desperately wanted her daughter to have a female cousin to grow up and play with.
"Boy," insisted George, wanting his son Fred being held by his wife. He hoped that his son and his twin's child would be the best of friends like they are.
Thus began the siblings and in-laws pooling what Baby Weasley was. And like all fights children have, they turned to their mother and asked for her thoughts. Molly, having forgotten her knitting, stood by the doors in hopes to catch a peek of her grand baby, and decided she did not care as long as the baby was healthy.
So they turned to their step-father.
"I could care less," Severus said, eliciting groans. "Fine. A girl."
As if to prolong the drama and agony, Fred and Rory took their time. Severus could respect that. It was a big transition going from a couple to a family of three. Or, in his extreme case, a lifelong bachelor to step-father to seven and step-grandfather to a mostly ginger horde. Finally, the doors were opened.
"Only three at a time, please," the head Healer said to staunch the flood.
Somehow Severus found himself propelled inside with Molly and George. They went through the delivery room to the recovery room beyond. There was Rory, looking exhausted but happy in the bed. And there was Fred, beaming as he held a bundle wrapped in a white blanket. The bundle was topped with tufts of ginger hair.
"Mum, Professor, Uncle George," he said, with the air of one expecting a drumroll. "Meet George Weasley II."
"A boy!" George whooped. Then he frowned. "But I thought you were going to name a boy after dad."
Severus and Molly shared the same confusion, peering over the new grandchild at each other.
"That's because George not a boy," Rory said softly, smiling as she looked up at her husband and child.
"A girl," Molly whispered, reaching out to pick up her new granddaughter. "Why, I thought you were going to call a little girl after your grandmother, Rory."
"You name a girl George," George asked incredulously.
Meanwhile, Severus watched in the background. He noted the tenderness that his former student possessed when he held his new daughter, at the way he reluctantly handed over her to Molly, and the pride he carried when he announced Little George's name. He stared at the baby in Molly's arms, imagining a life if he were a true father. Whether if the mother was Lily or Molly or someone else, will Severus be as tender or attentive as his former irritating student is?
"Well, Georgina Weasley," Fred said reasonably. "Georgina Niamh Weasley."
"We were going to go with Niamh for a girl or Arthur for a boy," Rory said. "But she just don't look like a Niamh. Yet. Give it a few years, and we might switch the names around."
George leaned over the baby to study his namesake intently. Then he looked up with a grin. "You realize what this means. In eleven short years, the Fred and George Weasley will be back in Hogwarts."
"We've got to owl McGonagall," Fred snickered. "Look out. The next generation is coming." Severus began to fervently hope that little Georgina (he refused to call her George until she herself was old enough to tell him to) took after her mother instead of her father.
"At least, they aren't identical twins," Molly said in a bright voice, albeit mentally apologizing to Minerva McGonagall on her sons' behalf.
"Minerva should retire like me," joked Severus and looked over at Rory. "Congratulations."
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Two years later, George, or Georgina as Severus calls her, became the big sister to Arthur Weasley. Molly, with tears in her eyes, was taken by her grandson, not expecting his name to be that of her late husband as Fred, in all of his pranks, managed to convince his mother that he and Rory were thinking Arthur did not quite fit. Severus took a step back, allowing Molly to spend time with Little Arthur. He remembered when young Lily was born, how touched he was when he met the baby named after his first love. Molly had given him space and she deserved the same. Now three years have passed and young Arthur still had not show shown any signs of magic, despite George displaying her first bout of magic at the early age of eleven months.
Most wizarding experts agreed that if magic was present, it would show by age seven, but that was considered uncommonly late. Furthermore, a second-born child tended to show earlier signs of magic than a firstborn, because of having an older sibling to copy and, truth be told, as protection against said sibling's clumsy magic. As the youngest of the fifteen highly magical grandchildren, including Teddy, who were constantly in and out of the Burrow, Arthur should have shown signs at the drop of a hat. At this point, most parents would have been worriedly dragging their child to St. Mungo's for a full workup. "He's not a Squib," they would say desperately. "He's just a late bloomer." That was the sane reaction. Then again, no one had ever accused Fred Weasley I of being sane.
For Fred, although never making anything explicit, wished for a squib. He will beam at his son, sit on the ground with muggle toy trucks, instead of brooms, and pretend to race or crash them depending on the toddler's preference that day. No one paid much attention; healers tend to suggest that parents of squibs introduce the child to the muggle side.
Severus, of course, noticed. It was bizarre, really, but the chances were fairly good. It was far more common for a child to be a Squib when they had one Muggle parent. Because his mother was a Muggle, little Arthur wouldn't suffer the way Squib children in most Pureblood families did. No one doubted that Fred loved little Arthur any less for his apparent lack of magic. Indeed, Fred had just returned from a special outing. Every year on his father's birthday, he would buy a Muggle present for his son. Now Severus watched as Fred knelt down to present Arthur with a rubber duck.
"Look, Art," Fred said, squeezing the yellow duck which gave a squeak. Arthur squealed. "This is a rubber duck. Now your mum thinks it for pleasure, but we know it's something much more."
"Like wat," Arthur asked.
"That is for Arthur to find."
Severus narrowed his eyes, staring down at the father and son from around the corner. It was beginning to make clearer sense. The first Arthur was a wizard with an affinity for muggles and Severus remember, not so fondly, Ron and Harry crashing the elder Weasley's enchanted car on school campus in their second year. Hadn't Fred gifted young Arthur a toy Ford Anglia the year before?
Fred filled the kitchen sink with water (by hand, instead of by magic), and he and Arthur practiced floating the duck on its surface. Arthur was so exhilarated by its bobbing motion, one would have thought it was magic. Molly came in and took Fred's place at the sink, as little Arthur began to babble excitedly to his grandmother about the importance of a rubber duck.
"You hope he is a Squib," Severus said in a low voice in Fred's ear. Fred shrugged one shoulder without looking at Severus.
"I want him to be a part of the world Dad loved so much, the world that made Rory too. Arthur Weasley is going to be the best Muggle the world's ever seen."
Severus liked that answer, he really did. Even with having a muggle father and a witch mother, Severus grew up with a bad taste of the muggle world (parring his friendship with Lily). His father disliked magic and his parents usually fought, neglecting the attention that he needed. Even with his closeness to his mother, Severus knew his mother was happy to ship him off to boarding school to get Severus away from the house. Severus presumed that it was normal, but one look at the dynamics of the Weasley Family he knows differently.
"And, what if young Arthur," he said, making certain his words were clear and deliberant. He needed to know the answer. He needed to know that his family was just different, that not every family was like his, "was a wizard? Then what happens?"
Without missing a beat, Fred answered. "Then he's going to be the best wizard the world's ever seen. A wizard who gets his driving license along with his Apparition license and can repair a car by hand and knows how to play football as well as Quidditch and oh, everything! He's going to fly in an airplane! It doesn't matter; he already loves everything Dad did. It's like it goes with the name."
"Good," Severus said, suppressing a smile.
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Arthur Weasley II's favorite color was decidedly and stubbornly green. Severus decided to take this as a sign that he was destined for Slytherin, much to the annoyance of his step-son. (Severus held out hope that at least one of the fifteen grandchildren would end up in his House. He planned to insist that Molly knit a jumper with a snake on the chest.) Perhaps it was the Slytherin vibe that made Arthur convinced Grandpa Sev had to be the one to change his new red toy car green. He scampered up to Severus in the kitchen of the Burrow, a huge smile on his face, and proffered the car with both hands.
"Make it green, Grandpa!"
His lips curled into a smile and with a wave of his wand, the toy car had a coat of Slytherin green. Severus, even, went as far as to add silver lines on the body, and with closer inspection one would see them as snakes.
Arthur shrieked in delight. He promptly hugged Severus around the legs. "I love it, I love you! Grandma! Grandma, look!"
Molly wandered through from the family room. In the doorway she stopped. Her eyes bulged, and then she let out a frustrated breath. "Fred! George! Get in here!" The twins, as well as Freddie and Georgina (as Severus called them), trooped into the kitchen like Muggles about to face the firing squad. "Not you two, your fathers." Molly shooed the children away. They shared a relieved grin and ran like the wind. Molly squared off with her adult sons, hands on her hips and glowering. "Honestly, you two are adults! Act like it! You're too old for this nonsense!" She waved a hand in Severus' direction.
"Oy, we didn't do that!" George objected indignantly.
"Yeah, monotones are far too amateurish for the likes of us," Fred said piously. "Nice hair, Professor. Did you do it yourself?"
Severus just stared at the twins confused as Molly conjured up a mirror. The confusion washed away, turning to pure livid. His hair, his very dark hair, was turned an unattractive, sickly green shade. Magicking the dye away, his eyes narrowed at the twins.
"Just wait, your children will be in Slytherin."
"It wasn't us!" George eyed Fred. "Unless you pulled one without consulting me." He sounded betrayed.
"George! How could you suggest such a thing! I would never!"
But Severus' attention wasn't on the melodramatic twins. Arthur was pulling on his robes. "No, Grandpa, make it green! I liked green!"
"I'm afraid the color doesn't suit me," Severus said with his usual supremely dry sense of humor.
"But I want it!" Arthur whined. An idea occurred to Severus, one Molly, in her rush to blame the twins, appeared to have completely overlooked.
Severus sat down, pulling Arthur to his lap. Arthur grinned, his fingers latching onto a strand of Severus' hair as he kept proclaiming that he wanted green.
"No, no, Arthur, let go," he said, disentangling his grandson's fingers out of his hair. "I have something for you to do."
"Okay," Arthur said in a small voice. Like all of the grandchildren, Severus' slow and steady voice calmed Arthur down as his blue eyes met his grandfather's dark ones.
"Try something," Severus said, his voice dropping so that only Arthur could hear. He ignored Molly, who watched with a small smile, and the twins who shared bewildered looks. "Picture green hair on you or your father. Yes, green hair on Daddy. Do it. Imagine it."
Arthur blinked at his apparently very confused grandfather. "His hair's red."
"I know what color it is," Severus said in a soft voice. "I want you to imagine it as green." Arthur stared bug-eyed at his father. Suddenly he let out a delighted shriek.
"Green hair on Daddy!" He gave a surprisingly scary cackle. Fred's hair had turned a vibrant lime green.
"Fred, your hair," George pointed at his twin's hair. "Was it you, Professor?"
"Green suits you, Fred," Severus standing up with a giggly Arthur.
"Green, green," Arthur clapped his hands, his nose wrinkling and a grin stretched across his face. "Grandpa, green!"
"Yes, green," Severus said, seeing that Arthur's grandmother and uncle were now sporting the same green hue as his father. He carried the boy to his grandmother, catching a similar green strand in his peripheral vision. Stifling a groan, he handed Arthur to Molly and said, "Green is better than orange. Arthur, if you ask your grandma nicely she may make you biscuits."
That got the small boy even happier, "Grandma, can I have biscuits?"
Tears filled Molly's eyes, as they had every time a grandchild first used magic. "You can have a dozen biscuits, Arthur," she cooed. "This is such a special day! You're a big boy now! A young wizard! You'll have your first toy broom soon, and-" Severus directed the twins out of the kitchen with a look. They left Molly happily fussing over Arthur, who was oblivious to his accomplishments as he asked for chocolate chip biscuits. Severus knew Molly was relieved that Arthur would not grow up with the prejudice and lack of opportunity afforded to Squibs. (It had turned her second cousin, who became an accountant, into a bitter and unpleasant person.) As for himself, Severus was pleased. Deep down, he fully acknowledged that he still harbored a dislike for, or at least discomfort with, Muggles that would probably never completely go away. Besides, now there was a far greater chance of having another Slytherin in the family. In the living room, he turned to Fred.
"Is he still to be a great wizard who flies a broom and drives a car?"
Fred studied his reflection by looking at George. It took him a moment to respond, processing the end of his dream for Arthur Weasley, Muggle Extraordinaire. Then he grinned at Severus. "Are you kidding? I've never been so proud in all my life! His first magic was turning you green! You know what this means, George-we've produced two sets of perfect pranksters. Fred and George II, and Roxanne and Arthur-they'll take Hogwarts by storm! Who knows, maybe Arthur will figure out how to make Muggle inventions work in the magical world. He might be a visionary!"
"And a Slytherin one," Severus said after shaking his head.
"Maybe," Fred said brightly. "It's in his blood. The Hat mentioned I had some real cunning and a "use any means" mindset, but not enough self-preservation. I've got to tell Rory!" He Disapparated on the spot.
After the novelty of Arthur's first bout of magic wore off, the Weasley-Potter-Snape Family resumed their regular routine. So, on one seemingly random day, the first month anniversary of Arthur's magic, Fred and Rory found a present assigned to Fred.
"Are you expecting something in the post, honey?"
"No," Fred said, picking up the package and seeing no return address. Without thinking, he tore it open (with Rory, wide eyed, telling him to be careful). Inside the package was a child broomstick and a muggle toolkit with a note attach: Arthur will need someone to teach him how to do things the muggle way if he is to be part of both worlds.