A Master Of Mischief ~ George Weasley Love Story ~ Book 1

Chapter 43

**Maddie’s POV**

                                      

“George?” I poke him awake.

“What?” he groans.

“Baby,” I reply, rolling back over.

“It’s your turn!”

“Get up.”

I hear him grumbling as he gets up and crosses to the cradle.

“What time is it?” he says, climbing back into bed.

“I don’t know.”

“Sun’s up.”

“I’m not.”

“You should be.”

“Shh.”

I snuggle down under the blankets, keeping my eyes tightly closed. I hear people down stairs begin moving around.

“Up time.”

“No!” I protest, hiding my face in the pillow, “I’m so tired.”

Alithea starts to cry again.

“George?” I ask sweetly.

“No.”

I sigh and roll out of bed. I pick Alithea up out of her bed and rock her for a while.

“Are we taking her to visit dad today?” George asks, getting up and starting to get dressed. I yawn loudly.

“I suppose,” I say, “I can’t believe we’ve only had her three days… I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks.”

“Here, I’ll take her while you get dressed,” George says, holding out his arms.

“I’ll get dressed later,” I reply lazily.

“Let’s go eat, then.”

“I’ll feed Lith first.”

“Lith, did you really have to nickname her Lith?”

“Yep,” I grin at him, “now get out. Make me some tea.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mutters, walking out.

After I’ve fed Alithea I walk downstairs to the dining room.

“Here’s your tea,” George says, holding the cup out.

“Thanks,” I reach out to take it, but he shakes his head.

“Swap,” he grins. I sigh and hand Alithea over.

“You’re so clucky,” Ginny laughs. George cuddles Alithea lovingly.

“He’s not so clucky at four in the morning,” I say, glaring at him. He smiles sheepishly at me.

“Are we visiting dad today?” Fred asks, handing me some toast.

“We’ll go as soon as you’ve all eaten,” Mrs Weasley says. She glances over at me, but doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll have to rug Alithea up,” I comment casually, watching Mrs Weasley’s face brighten.

“Oh, you’re coming?” she exclaims, “excellent! Arthur will be so pleased!”

“We’ll go get dressed,” I say, lifting Alithea from George’s reluctant arms. In my room I dig out her warmest clothes after looking outside and seeing the white street.