Post by Elienp on Nov 17, 2011 10:20:36 GMT -8
Title: A proud Father
Rating: T
Warning: None
Words: 217
Summary: Mr Weasley is proud of his little girl.
Mrs Weasley screamed at her twins to catch their sister. They had put her on this broom – not a toy, not a broom for children, a racing broom for Merlin's sake! She could have killed them on the spot when Ginny had flown in front of her, at her eyes level, her eyes level!
“Ginny! Land for Heaven's sake! Get back to the ground!”
The twins had been laughing like mad until they'd realised their baby sister was faster than them, easily dodging each of their attempts to grab her. In spite of the determined frowns which graced their forehead, both were indeed being surpassed by a girl of five.
“She is a natural!” Mr Weasley proudly exclaimed. He raised his thumbs at the red-haired child. “That's my girl!”
“Don't you dare encourage her!” Mrs Weasley growled at her husband. “I want her back on the floor immediately!”
Mr Weasley lowered his head, called her daughter, who came to him without difficulty, having heard, contrary to her mother, the pride in his voice.
“I'll teach you to play Quidditch, I'm sure you'll love it,” he murmured in her ear.
Father and daughter smiled at each other, oblivious to Mrs Weasley's anger, to the twins' vexation, both lost in their complicity.
Rating: T
Warning: None
Words: 217
Summary: Mr Weasley is proud of his little girl.
Mrs Weasley screamed at her twins to catch their sister. They had put her on this broom – not a toy, not a broom for children, a racing broom for Merlin's sake! She could have killed them on the spot when Ginny had flown in front of her, at her eyes level, her eyes level!
“Ginny! Land for Heaven's sake! Get back to the ground!”
The twins had been laughing like mad until they'd realised their baby sister was faster than them, easily dodging each of their attempts to grab her. In spite of the determined frowns which graced their forehead, both were indeed being surpassed by a girl of five.
“She is a natural!” Mr Weasley proudly exclaimed. He raised his thumbs at the red-haired child. “That's my girl!”
“Don't you dare encourage her!” Mrs Weasley growled at her husband. “I want her back on the floor immediately!”
Mr Weasley lowered his head, called her daughter, who came to him without difficulty, having heard, contrary to her mother, the pride in his voice.
“I'll teach you to play Quidditch, I'm sure you'll love it,” he murmured in her ear.
Father and daughter smiled at each other, oblivious to Mrs Weasley's anger, to the twins' vexation, both lost in their complicity.
He is a great father I think
