We're the Weasleys || Weasley Next Gen

Part 2, Chapter 59- Violet/Ophelia's POV

***A/N*** Hi! So this chapter is going to be broken into two POV's cause Violet's wasn't big enough for its own chapter. I've never done this before so maybe if you guys like having a split chapter I could do more of these in the future.

Also! This chapter contains some violence and mentions of wounds. Thank you in advance for keeping the comments a safe place, that means the world to me xx

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***Violet's POV***

"George!"

Nothing.

"George! George Fabian Weasley!"

I sit on our bed and stare at the ultrasound image in my hands. Fuck.

That's the only thing that I can think of right now.

Fuck.

Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.

Did I say fuck?

George comes into our bedroom with Annabeth laughing on his back. My heart swells every time I see him interact with our children no matter what he's doing big or small. He's a fantastic father.

"Hey, peanut do you mind giving Daddy and me some privacy please?" I ask.

George lets Annie off his back and she skips out of our bedroom. George's face changes into a more serious look and he closes the door behind her.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"I hate you, you know that? You and your fucking genes."

George furrows his eyebrows together and looks down at his trousers, "What's wrong with my jeans? I just bought them."

"Not jeans, genes."

"My love you're saying the same word twice and expecting me to understand the difference." He comes over and sits on the edge of the bed with me. I subtly hide the ultrasound picture in the folds of my jumper so he can't see it quite yet.

"Genetics Weasley. I hate you and your genetics."

"Now you're going to blame me for the kids' faults? You're no picnic either Missus."

I roll my eyes and pull the ultrasound picture out again and hand it to him, "You bloody Weasleys are fertile that's for sure."

George stares at the picture for a good long time, "I – wait... I – hold on, wha – I – pause..."

I laugh, "Do that for two more hours and you might be where I am right now."

George looks at me with tears in his eyes, "Are you serious?"

"No that's my cousin."

George chuckles dryly and clears his throat, "You're pregnant?" he whispers.

"Yeah," I whisper back, "I've missed three cycles in a row and I've been feeling gross but I thought it was just early onset menopause or whatever. But with Emma talking about babies I thought maybe? So I went to Saint Mungo's this morning and well... it's not menopause."

George chokes back his tears and smiles down at the picture. He traces his thumb carefully across the image, "Definitely not menopause," He whispers.

"We're nearly fifty G," I point out, "We're nearly fifty and we're going to have a kid."

George sniffs, "We're going to have a baby."