It was a bright, sunny Sunday afternoon, the kind of day that felt like a precious gift amidst the tumultuous times we were living in. George, Freya and I had decided to spend the day at he Burrow, enjoying the rare moments of peace and sunshine. Molly and Arthur had taken a trip to Diagon Alley, leaving us with the house and garden all to ourselves.
After a leisurely breakfast, we headed out to the garden. Freya, eighteen months old, was a bundle of energy and curiosity. She tottered around on her chubby little legs, exploring every flower, bug and a patch of grass she could find. Her giggles filled the air, a sound that always warmed my heart.
"Look at her go." George said, watching our daughter with a smile. "She's got the curiosity of a true Weasley."
"She definitely does." I agreed, feeling a swell of pride. "I love watching her discover the world."
We spread a blanket on the grass and settled down, keeping a close eye on Freya as she played. George had packed a small picnic basket with snacks and drinks, and we spent the next hour or so lounging in the sunshine, chatting, and enjoying the simple pleasures of being together.
Freya, after tiring herself from running around, toddled back to us and plopped down on the blanket. She crawled into George's lap, her little face flushed with excitement. George wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Hey there, munchkin." he said softly. "Having fun?"
Freya looked up at him with wide, bright eyes and nodded vigorously. "Dada." she babbled, reaching up to pat his face with her tiny hands. "Dada, play."
George chuckled, his eyes sparkling with love. "What do you want to play, Freya?"
She didn't answer, just giggled and snuggled closer to him. I watched them, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Seeing George with Freya always made my heart melt. He was such a wonderful father, so attentive and loving.
"Want to play a game, Freya?" I asked, leaning in to join their little huddle. "How about we play 'This Little Piggy'?"
Freya's eyes lit up and she clapped her hands in excitement. I took one of her tiny feet in my hand and started the familiar rhyme, wiggling each of her toes as I went along. George joined in, and Freya's laughter filled the garden as we entertained her with silly voices and exaggerated gestures.
"This little piggy went to the market." I began, wiggling her big toe.
"This little piggy stayed home." George continued, taking the next toe.
"This little piggy had roast beef." I said, moving to the middle toe.
"And this little piggy had none." George added, grinning at Freya's delighted giggles.
"This little piggy cried 'wee wee wee' all the way home!" we finished together, tickling her gently.
Freya squealed with laughter, her eyes shining with pure joy. Moments like these made everything else fade away— the fear, the uncertainty, the darkness that loomed over our world. In these precious moments, it was just the three of us, our little family, basking in the love and happiness we shared.
After the game, we lay back on the blanket, gazing up at the clear blue sky. Freya nestled between us, her small hand clutching George's finger. I stroked her hair, feeling the softness under my fingertips.
"I love days like this." George said, his voice low and filled with emotion. "It's like a little piece of heaven."
"Me too." I replied, turning my head to look at him. "I wouldn't trade this for anything."
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Embers of the Heart ; George Weasley
FanfictionIn "Embers of the Heart," we are introduced to Aurora Nightingale, a young witch haunted by the shadows of her past. Orphaned at a tender age due to a tragic accident that claimed the lives of her parents, Aurora is left to navigate the turbulent wa...
