The Years Between || G.W

2009- Goerge's POV

***A/N*** I didn't mean to write this today, I promised myself I was going to start on my uni readings... anyways. Hope you enjoy. I'll see you all soon! Toodles xx

***Edit*** Hey! Don't mind me rewriting a few things before I publish a new chapter. I *totally* remembered that Lily Luna and Hugo were born in 2009. Who said anything otherwise?

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"Daddy,"

I roll over in bed and open my eyes. Freddie is nose to nose with me, "Morning," I whisper, trying really hard not to wake up Violet.

"Cans we go downstairs and fly?" he whispers.

"Fly?" I look at the little digital clock that we have on the bedside table, "Freddie it's four in the morning."

He looks at the clock, then back to me, "Pwease?" He pouts his bottom lip out and makes his eyes go real wide. Perfect brown eyes that Violet claims are all me. But I see him, I see him every time I look at my son. The smirk that rests on his face more often than not, the way his hair is never perfectly neat despite Violet's feeble attempts to get him presentable. He's all Fred, through and through.

Except for the nose, that's all Violet, and his laugh, and the way he yawns so big that it looks like it hurts to open your mouth that wide.

"Alright," I whisper, who can say no to him, "But we have to be very quiet, we can't wake up Mumma or your sisters."

"Leah is already awake," Freddie whispers, his face is still centimetres away from mine, his morning breath could down a dragon. What did we feed this kid last night, "She heard me walkin' I think and I opened her room and she is standin' in her cot."

I try my very best to get out of bed without interrupting Violet or Fergus, who sleeps between me and Vi on the bed. It's gotten to the point that Violet and I are sort of just waiting for his time to come. He's old, he's got a few issues when it comes to walking. I mean Godric Violet's had him since like fourth year. Nearly twenty years with this cat.

"Ophelia can't fly with us yet bub," I say setting my feet on the ground, "She's too small right now."

Freddie rolls his eyes, "Den you and Mumma gots to have a bigger kid."

"When babies are first born they're all small," I say as I take Freddie's hand in mine and make sure he doesn't step on any squeaky floorboards. It's probably not the smartest thing to teach my son, how to properly get out of the flat without making any noise, but I'll face those consequences later.

There's a soft thud in the kitchen and Freddie squeezes my hand tight, "Who dere?" he calls out.

"It's probably just a mouse bub," I say to him.

It's very much not a mouse.

"Hi George," Teddy says when I turn the corner, "What're you doing up at four in the morning?"

I blink a few times, "What are you doing in my flat at four in the morning? Do your parents know?"

Teddy shrugs, "Harry and Ginny are asleep so I assume no?"

"What're you doing here?" I ask again.

He looks at the plate full of cookies in front of him, then looks back at me, "Having a snack?"

Freddie tugs on my hand, "Can I has a snack too?"

"I went to Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur's first," Teddy says, "To see if Victoire wanted to go exploring. But she was too scared her parents would find out. And I figured which one of my Uncles wouldn't care if I showed up in the middle of the night and you were the first one on the list."