Songbird ; Fred Weasley

Fifty-five

"Fred stop!"

His laughter filled the room as the paint splattered across my face.

A week of having lived in our flat, and we were painting the nursery.

I had forced Fred to do it with me the muggle way, and he had complained that I love doing things the muggle way too much.

"Quit it!" I whipped my own paint brush at him, and the light grey paint hit him right on the cheek.

I laughed at his stunned expression. He scoffed, acting offended and then he slowly made his way over to his paint bucket of dark grey paint.

"No, Fred I'm serious. Quit it! We need to—" I shrieked when a large splash of paint hit me in the face, some of it getting into my mouth.

I gagged, flipping Fred off, and he laughed, putting his brush down before approaching me.

"Taste good?" He teased and lifted a hand to brush his thumb over my cheek, only spreading some of the paint across my cheekbone.

"Piss off." I said jokingly, shoving him off. "Go back to painting your wall."

We were going with a black, white and grey theme. Three of the walls would be the same light grey colour and the last one was divided into three triangles.

The biggest triangle was a dark grey. It filled half of the wall. The other half was divided into two other triangles. One a light grey, and the other white with black polka dots.

I had used tape to get it perfect. I was a long project because after painting one of the triangles, I'd have to wait for it to dry and that would take about a day, before I could put more tape on so the new paint wouldn't get onto the side I had just painted the day before.

I had done the white site with the polka dots, and I had done the light grey side. Now I was painting the dark grey while Fred finished the last of his walls.

We had bought most furniture for the nursery, but we still needed the smaller decorative things.

"Should we start discussing names?" Fred asked when he returned to his paint bucket and the brush he had put down.

I smiled. "I want her to be named something with a D."

"A 'D'?"

"Yes."

"That's specific." He laughed. "So what... Danielle or something like that?"

"No, not Danielle." I told him, turning to watch as he picked up the paint roll instead, getting to work with it. "But I don't know. I like names that start with a 'D'. Like Delia, Dylan or... Daisy."

"Daisy? We are not naming our daughter Daisy like fucking Daisy Duck."

I looked at him, and then I broke into a soft laughter, turning to grab my brush. I worked on the edges of the last triangle, being extra careful.

"And Dylan? Love that's a classic fuckboy name. We aren't naming our daughter after a fuckboy."

I rolled my eyes but he couldn't see it as my back was turned towards him.

"What're your ideas then?"

"If we're talking names with a 'D', I like Danielle even though you don't. Or Dakota."

"Like the state?" I asked and turned my head just a little so I could look at him.

"Dakota isn't a state." He frowned.

"No, but South Dakota is. And North Dakota is." I said. "How about we leave the D names and look for others instead?"

"I think that's the best idea you've had all day." He grinned, earning himself another eye roll from me. "How about Maeve?"

Raising my eyebrows, I turned around and faced him.

"Maeve? Right. Maeve, the daughter of Mavis."

He stilled for a moment before laughing. "Right. I hear it. Clara?"

"Clara..." I repeated the name, tasting it on my tongue. "I'm putting it on a maybe list."

"Yeah?" He smiled. "Clara Weasley..."

"I said maybe." I pointed a finger at him, and he grinned just as the doorbell rang, catching e attention of us both.

"I'll get that." I told him, putting down my paint brush.

I walked out of the room and down the hallway, walking into the entryway. I reached the door and I looked through the peephole, smiling as I saw George on the other side of the door.

I pulled it open, and George offered me a soft smile, then he frowned.

"You've got paint on your face."

Instinctively, I raised a hand to my face, remembering the small paint fight Fred and I had.

"Right." I breathed. "What are you doing here? Come in."

I stepped aside, and George stepped into the flat, looking around. This was the first time he was here since Fred and I got all settled. He helped us move, but he hadn't seen the place all unpacked.

"I like what you've done with the place." He said. "It's all warm and cosy."

"Right?" I smiled, shutting the door again. "All thanks to me though. Fred's got no clue when it comes to decorating."

"I'm aware." He let out a small laugh. "He told me you're working on the nursery today, so I brought some things I bought for it."

He handed me the bag he was carrying, and I narrowed my eyes before looking into it.

"Oh my god!" I gasped.

There was a neatly folded white blanket with grey bear faces on it. There was a stuffed animal in the form as a bunny, and it was adorable. It was also grey so it fitted in perfectly with the theme of the room.

I looked up at George, suddenly getting emotional. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him.

"Thank you so much. I'm sorry for crying but I've been really emotional lately and this is the best gift ever." I pulled back, wiping at my eyes. "C'mon. Let's show it to Fred."

George followed me to the nursery where Fred was still painting the wall.

"Look what George came with for her." I said, and Fred paused, looked at me and then put down the paint roll.

He rubbed his hands on his trousers before walking over to take a look into the bag.

"What's the blanket for?" He asked and looked at George who frowned.

"For your baby. Mate..."

"I know it's for my baby!" Fred raised his voice at his brother. "But is it for the crib or the changing table? Something third?"

"This is a weird conversation." I muttered.

"It's for the crib." George said. "To hang over the side so you can easily grab it. Maybe you'll use it at night when feeding her. I don't know. It's a blanket and it's yours so do with it what you want."

"Thank you." I said, again, looking up at George. "This is really—"

I started crying again, and Fred turned his attention on me.

"Hey, why don't you go take a nap?" He asked. "George can help me paint while you relax."

"I'm not tired—"

"Love, you're crying over a blanket and a stuffed animal." Fred chuckled. "Go take a nap."

I sighed and he took the bag from me, placing it on the floor.

"Fine." I glared at him as I left the room and entered the next room which was our bedroom.

When we moved in, we picked my bed from my parents house because my bed was the most comfortable one and I was very fucking attached to it.

I got out of the clothes I had been painting in, and put on something else before crawling into bed with a groan.

I shut my eyes, and I fell asleep pretty damn fast.