Lover ; George Weasley

Thirty-two

George

Sunday came around and I spent the day at the beach with Lee and his family.

Then in the evening, I went home, showered and then I used the floo system to get to the Burrow.

I was picking up my children.

"George, dear!" My mum greeted me in the door, pulling me down for a hug. "It's so good to see you. Come inside. Roxi is helping your father with the garden gnomes and Freddie is taking a nap on the sofa."

Once I was inside, my eyes landed on my son who slept peacefully on the sofa, covered in one of the blanket mum's made over the years.

"How did you manage to tire him out?" I asked. "He hasn't napped since he was a toddler."

"Oh... I made him help in the kitchen." Mum told me with a smile as we both looked at Freddie. "He doesn't like baking."

"No." I chuckled. "He really doesn't."

Mum placed a hand on my arm, causing me to look down at her.

"I've got a present for Roxi. You know, her birthday is on Thursday and in case we don't see each other on that day." She said. "I'll go get it. It should be in the scullery."

Mum walked through the kitchen and into the scullery while I pushed off my shoes.

I entered the living room and pulled the armchair closer to the sofa, sitting it in.

Fred was growing so fast. It was difficult to watch. I remember the day he was born. The best day in my life along with the day Roxi arrived.

Now, Roxi was turning six next week and Fred would be turning ten in six months.

"He looks peaceful, doesn't he?" My mum entered the living room with a wrapped present.

"Yeah." I breathed, running my hand over Fred's head.

"Have you thought about getting him a therapist?" She asked me. "He's struggling with some things, George. Angelina leaving is one of them."

I sighed and leaned back in the armchair.

"I hate her for doing this to him." I said. "If she hadn't come back two years ago to try and get in on their lives..."

I looked up at my mum.

"I dunno what she told him." I said. "But Fred is convinced I'm the bad one here. He believes it's my fault she left."

Mum sat down on her sofa at the end of Fred's feet, looking at him as she covered him more with the blanket.

"He's only a child, George."

"I know that." I nodded. "But it's hurting him. I don't care if he hates me... but he's hurting and it's probably because she told him something when she saw him."

Mum reached over to place the present on the sofa table before she looked at me again.

"Why don't you come home for your birthday this year?" She asked. "Bring your girlfriend. We'd all love to meet her."

I looked at mum, my eyebrows raised before I pressed my lips together and shook my head.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think so..."

"Why not? George... you haven't celebrated your birthday for fourteen years. You haven't celebrated since Fred died."

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart ache. There was only a few weeks until April and the thought of my birthday, still hurt so much.