A/N: I've had a few replies on who to write about, please please let me know when you ahev cravings... ^^

I promise I'll write another Dramione drabble in some chapters, you'll just have to be patient!

3. About parental issues.

"George! Come here please!" Angelina's voice was trying not to sound angry, but she was, he could tell. After all, she was his wife.

There had been few moments in his life where George had fully wished he had died in place of Fred. He was feeling this aching nothingness in a part of his brain, especially when his son, who looked just like his dead uncle, was pranking someone in the house.

"Comin', dearie!" He quietly got down the stairs into the kitchen. His wife was standing, hands on her hips, in front of the family table, a crunching of glass behind her. "What he they done again?" He sighed.

"I'm tired of this, George Weasley! Your son can't stop doing pranks! He just broke half of our wedding plate assortment!" George restrained a huff. "I know you find it really funny, but I don't. It's about time that you take your father's responsibilities, get up there and yell at Fred!" She lifted a finger that said "I'm won't say it twice!". He sighed, pecked her on the cheek and turned around to climb the stairs once more, direction: Fred Weasley II's room.

"Fred? Open the door please, we have to talk."

George heard his first born get up from his bed and stop behind the door, which remained untouched. He could hear his breathing across the wood.

"Are you gonna yell at me?"

George laughed. "No, I'm not. I'm just going to pretend I'm gonna yell at you."

Fred opened the door. His red hair on his dark skin was always something his father wasn't used to, especially when he looked at him with the same concerned expression his twin used to have before a prank.

"Fred, sit down please." Father and son faced each other, door closed to be sure Angelina wouldn't hear a word. "Your mother's tired of your pranks. And if I'm being honest, which I always am,-"

"Except when Grandma's here.

"Yes, except when she is here. Well, I was saying, I too am becoming tired of this, but not for the same reasons."

George took something in his pocket and handed it to Fred.

"Wow! What is that?"

"Something I just invented. That's an undetectable guilty pill. If you take it and you do something bad to your mother's house, she won't know it's you."

Fred's eyes widened in excitement.

"But, because there's always a but, you have to promise me that, when you reach Hogwarts, you'll play better than this. I quite liked those plates too."

"No you didn't. That's why I made the furniture explode." George ruffled his son's hair. "I promise."

His father nodded, making his few wrinkles appear in the faint light. "Now, I'm afraid you'll have to get down the stairs and apologize to your mother, unless I fear you will have to beg for food tonight." He knew Fred, just like Ron, couldn't bare not to eat for too long.

"Okay." He jumped out of his bed and nearly ran downstairs.

In the meantime, George headed to his daughter's room. "Roxie? Can I come in?"

He heard a faint mumble, and when he opened the door, he saw his little Roxanne reading on her bed. He chuckled a little at the sight.

"Roxie, your brother has pranked us again."

"I couldn't miss Mummy yelling all over, Daddy." She barely lifted her gaze from the page.

"Just be quiet tonight, right. One murder's enough for one evening." And George closed the door behind him.

As he went downstairs, he saw Fred getting out, mumbling something very interesting about blowing Granddad's car or something.

George went over to his wife, who had resumed her preparation of diner, and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Angie..."

"Yes, Georgie?"

"I fear our son won't get any better until he gets to Hogwarts."

She giggled a little. "He's just like you. He'll blow the house up if I don't send him to James."

"That's a perfect idea." And he kissed her cheek.

I like writing things like that! :D

Review please!