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

Chapter 51

Hey guys! Thanks for the feedback on the Fred story character! Got the first few chapters written, so I'll start uploading... Well, I have no idea when, but at some stage... So, enjoy this chapter!

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**Maddie’s POV**

“Hey,” I say, poking George. He turns away from the shelf he’s stocking.

“I’m taking Alithea to Dad’s place,” I tell him, “can you survive ten minutes without me?”

George heaves a theatrical sigh.

“I suppose,” he says doubtfully.

“Good, see you later,” I say, picking up Alithea from the floor and disapparating.

“Is she crawling yet?” Dad asks when I appear in the kitchen. I roll my eyes.

“I’m great, thanks,” I say sarcastically.

“She should be crawling,” he says, taking Alithea.

“She’ll learn,” I say, mimicking George.

“She’s almost seven months…”

“She’s just over six,” I correct.

“Still…”

I sit down at the table.

“According to my book, most babies learn to crawl at about twenty five weeks,” I comment.

“You were crawling at eighteen,” Dad retorts.

“And George didn’t crawl until he was nearly a year old,” I say back, “and physically, she’s just like him, so maybe she got all his genes.”

“Maybe she’s got something wrong with her,” Dad says seriously. I sigh.

“Or maybe she’s normal,” I say patiently, “she’ll learn.”

“How much is she talking?” he asks. I roll my eyes.

“She makes lots of noises, but no proper words yet,” I sigh, “and can I point out, you haven’t really had much experiences with children? You raised one to three years old.”

“I know more about it than you do,” he retorts.

“But not all that much,” I reply calmly, “and besides, she’s different from me. I was a genius from the very beginning.”

“And modest too. Is she rolling over?”

“She’s pro at it,” I reply with a smile, “changing her nappy is becoming increasingly difficult.”

“Well, that’s something,” he says. Alithea grabs a strand of his hair and gives it a yank.

“Ouch,” Dad hisses, “well, she’s definitely not weak.”

“No, she is very lovely,” I coo. Alithea looks around and stretches out her arms.

“Aw, you love your Mummy, don’t you?” I cry, leaping up to cuddle her. Dad rolls his eyes.

“She loves her grandpa too,” he mutters.

“Of course she does!” I say earnestly, “she just loves me more.”

“Not when I do this,” he says, grinning. He transforms into a huge, black dog. Alithea squeals and strains towards him.

“I can do that too,” I say, sitting Alithea on the ground. She catches onto one of Dad’s legs and starts trying to ‘gently’ pat it. As I watch she pulls herself up, leaning heavily on him, to a standing position. My mouth falls open. She wobbles a bit and Dad catches the back of her shirt in his teeth to balance her.