Embers of the Heart ; George Weasley

Sixteen - 2.0

The next morning, I let George sleep. Normally, he would be op and opening the shop alongside Fred, but maybe the shop would just have to stay closed for a while. Maybe I'd go out and find myself a job so we could continue living on an income.

I got up, got myself dressed before walking to the room that was Fred's before he moved out. Inside, Freya was standing up in her crib, ready to face the day. Her bright eyes met mine, and she reached out her arms, her face breaking into a wide, innocent smile that momentarily eased the ache in my heart.

"Morning, love." I said softly, lifting her out of her crib and holding her close. She nestled her head against my shoulder, her tiny arms wrapping around my neck. The simple act of holding her brought a sense of comfort and purpose.

I carried her to the kitchen, setting her down in her high chair and beginning to prepare breakfast. The routine tasks were a welcome distraction, a semblance of normalcy in a world turned upside down. As I moved about the kitchen, I found myself wondering how we would get through his, how we would rebuild our lives without Fred.

Freya babbling brought me back to the present, and I smiled at her, grateful for her presence. "Are you hungry, Freya?" I asked, handing her a piece of toast. She grabbed it eagerly, taking small bites with her tiny teeth.

I made myself a cup of tea and sat down at the table, watching Freya eat. The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. It was a new day, and despite the grief that still hung heavily in the air, there was a glimmer of hope.

Just the, a faint cry came from the other room. Rosie was awake. I finished my tea quickly and went to her makeshift cot. She looked up at me with wide, curious eyes, her tiny fists waving in the air.

"Good morning, little one." I cooed, lifting her and feeling the familiar, comforting weight of her in my arms. I brought her back to the kitchen, settling her in the baby bouncer where she could watch Freya and me.

As Freya finished her toast, I cleaned her up and decided to take both girls for a walk. Maybe some fresh air would do us all good. I bundled them up, Freya in a light jacket, and Rosie in her snug blanket, and we stepped outside. The cool morning air was refreshing against my skin.

We walked through the quiet streets, the sounds of the city gradually coming to life around us. Freya pointed at everything with wide-eyed wonder, her excitement contagious. Rosie dozed peacefully in her stroller, the gentle motion lulling her back to sleep.

We reached a small park, ad I let Freya run around while Rosie continued to nap. Freya's laughter filled the air, bringing a sense of lightness I hadn't felt in days. I sat on a bench, watching her play, my thoughts drifting to George and how we would navigate the days ahead.

When we returned home, George was awake, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. He looked up as we entered, a tired smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, setting Freya down. She immediately toddled over to George, reaching up to be held.

He lifted her onto his lap, his eyes softening as he looked at her. "Better, I think. Just... taking it one day at a time."

I nodded, sitting down across from him. "I was thinking... maybe I should look for a job. Just until we figure things out with the shop."

George looked thoughtful, his fingers gently brushing through Freya's hair. "That might be a good idea."

At that moment, an owl came with the Daily Prophet, as well as a letter. I got up as it left, grabbing the letter first. It was addressed to me in a familiar, elegant handwriting. I felt a rush of emotion as I opened it and began to read.