You were Harry Potter's sister and you were the bestfriend of the Weasley Twins since first year, in fourth year you and Fred Weasley fell in love with eachother but only kissed in sixth year because you both were too afraid. You both got engaged in seventh year and finally got married when you both got out of Hogwarts at 18 years old.

You and Fred got a little baby boy named Winifred George Weasley, named after his uncle George. Winifred was a sweet baby, but very similar to Fred, with his red hair and those little eyes full of mischief to play in a few years. For now, you were sure of the possible pranks that awaited you from both of them.

Going shopping was your favorite pastime after pregnancy, as it was your only moment alone and with a bit of peace. You left your little baby with her father, and problem solved, or so you thought...

After doing your due shopping, you happily returned home, taking your keys from your back pocket, ready to open the door.

"Winifred George Weasley! It's just soup, you must eat it."

You heard that familiar voice from outside, sighed in exhaustion, and finally opened the door.

The scene was funny. Winifred was sitting in his highchair, he was only 5 months old and Fred was covered in soup, holding a spoon, trying to get him to eat it. You left the bags on the nearest table, taking off your coat, and getting both of their attention.

"Honey, Winifred doesn't want to eat his soup. Tell him something."

Your husband complained with a frown, placing the spoon on Winifred's high chair.

"He's just a baby, he's easy to get to eat, love."

You approached them both. Winifred happily stretched his arms out toward you, excited by your return.

"You must eat, darling."

You said and took the spoon and took some soup of the bowl and brought it to your baby's mouth, watching as her opened his mouth and accept the happily.

"I think he has a thing against me. He must be jealous of me for having prettier hair than his!"

Fred commented with a pout, looking at the scene, to which you laughed.

"Here."

You handed Fred the spoon again with a smile, to which he raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

"He's got your temper."

Fred complained again, crossing his arms, not accepting the spoon. They were two children in your care...