Title: His Parent's Child
Molly Weasley slowly rocked her youngest grandchild in her arms. He was almost asleep, and that was something she was deeply thankful for. She looked at the still innocent face of the tiny (almost) three year old. From the top of his messy black-haired head, to his warm and loving heart, to the way his tiny hands were always ready to help others, he was his parents' child. Now, he was the only thing that she had left of Harry and Ginny. Harry had finally defeated Voldemort a few months before his child's birth, but hadn't lived to see it. Ginny had followed him before their child was a week old.
Every day, Sirius James Potter, known affectionately as "Siri" by his grandparents, did something that reminded his family of his parents.
"Molly, it's time to come to bed. We promised Siri we'd take him to see Ron and George at the shop tomorrow." Arthur gently took his grandson out of his wife's arms.
"I'm coming. Will you put the little one to bed? I'm getting much too old to run after little feet." She smiled at him, and then walked, deep in thought, to the bedroom to get ready for bed.
Arthur came to the bedroom to find his wife crying. It wasn't often that he found her like that, but this time, he had a feeling that he knew why. He put his arms around her and held her close. Tomorrow would be three years since they had lost Harry.
"Do you know what Siri did today, Arthur?" Molly pulled away, mirth and sadness mixed in her dark brown eyes.
"No, but I have a guess." He held his hand up to his forehead, as if deep in thought. "He snuck into the broomshed and you found him outside, flying around doing all sorts of crazy stunts."
"How'd you guess?"
Arthur sighed. "Oh, about, seventeen years ago, I caught a fiery red-haired three year old doing the exact same thing. I never told you, of course, I knew she wasn't going to let you know either." Arthur smiled at the memory.
"He's just like his parents then, I guess. Not just in looks, either, though he does look exactly like his father. He's also got his father's talent of getting into dangerous situations..."
"He has one wicked temper, which he gets mostly from your side of the family." Arthur ducked Molly's hand as it came toward his head.
"May I remind you, Arthur Weasley, that the child has three grandparents with notorious tempers? Remember your first Order meeting, toward the end of the first war? Remember the argument that Lily and James had right before they went into hiding…the one where all of the curtains in the house mysteriously caught on fire?"
"Okay, so his temper isn't just from you, though he's spent more time with you and Ron than anyone else."
"His good heart is definitely from his father. He's always trying to save some animal or another, and he cried for days when Errol finally died."
"He's got that innate sense of what to say when someone is sad or hurt. Ginny was wonderful at that."
The two went on for an hour longer, remembering the good times; trying not to remember the bad. The next day, Ron came to pick him up from the Burrow.
"You two need a day off. George and I are going to let him hang out in the shop for a few hours, then we'll close early, and he can come over and visit with 'Mione. She's his favorite auntie, you know." Ron kneeled down so that he could catch his nephew as the little boy, all ready for a day with his favorite uncles, came barreling at him.
Molly smiled. "Well, he's got wonderful taste where females are concerned. His choice of favorite uncles however…"
Ron hugged the little boy close. "He can't help it if he's got a soft spot for me, Mum. That's genetic, you know. I was Harry's favorite brother." He grinned, an action mirrored by Sirius.
All three adult occupants of the room were thinking the same thing. Harry and Ginny might not be with them in person, but their son was, and he definitely was his parents' child.