Who: George Weasley, Natalie Grant (NPC), Merriwether Henry (NPC) What: George meets his kidlet When: Friday, May 6, 2005, 3 p.m. Where: Exeter Home for Orphaned Magical Children Rating: G Status: Complete, Solo
George stared down at his feet, watching as he tapped his own toes against the gravel. He was in the garden and play area at the Exeter Home for Orphaned Magical Children waiting on Merriwether Henry, the far too cheery social worker, to return with Natalie, who, he'd been told, had taken a nap after lunch, and usualy got up around 3 p.m.—and that had put into perspective for George just how young Natalie really was. She took naps. Merlin.
George tensed the moment he heard the door open again—it had a bloody horrible squeaky hinge. He sat up straight, fingers smoothing over the jumper he was wearing. He's tried to look presentable because he remembered his first impressions of grown-ups when he was little. He still couldn't forget meeting his father's coworker, Avery Jenkins. He'd come over for dinner when George and Fred had been about eight, and he'd worn a horrible orange set of robes and smelled of field onions.
So he'd worn a clean, cornflower blue jumper, one his mum had said looked good on him, and some grey slacks, and nothing too abrasive or scary looking. He'd taken a shower, shaved, combed his hair and made sure not to use cologne or aftershave, or anything that might give her a first memory that was overwhelmed by something that wasn't him. Maybe he was overthinking it.
Ms. Henry walked towards him, and Natalie held her hand. Her hair was all over the place, blonde at the fringe of her face and in little highlights in her hair. He didn't think she'd be that blonde or that her eyes would be that blue. Shit. It was such a little thing to notice, but it was his. Her mum's hair had been brown... brown eyes, too, if he remembered right. So those little blonde fringes and blue eyes were a physical confirmation to him that he wasn't so far removed from Natalie as he'd been feeling while waiting for her to come outside.
"Nattie, dear, this is Mr. George. You remember how I told you about your daddy, darling," Ms. Henry murmured to Natalie as she knelt down to her height. George had stood up for a moment, but then sat back down when Ms. Henry knelt. Natalie stared at George, cocking her head a bit as she did.
"I don't have a daddy," she said matter-of-factly, not mean, just stated it straight out. George felt a little pinch in his gut at that, fearing this was all about to start to go poorly.
"Everyone has a daddy, dear. Some just aren't always with us. But Mr. George has come to be with you now, just like your mummy asked him to do. Wasn't that nice of her?" George thought it a bit off that Ms. Henry was talking about the kid's dead mother so freely, but Natalie didn't seem phased, just kept staring at him.
"My mummy left," Natalie explained to George, lips pursing a bit as she leaned in towards George, and raised a finger to poke his cheek. "What's on your face?" she asked, looking up at him, then over to Ms. Henry, whoever would answer her first. George raised a hand to wipe his cheek, worried there was dirt there after Ms. Henry grabbed Natalie's hand and lowered it, holding it in her own.
"Nattie, that isn't very nice to touch someone without their permission." Ms. Henry looked to George apologetically before turning back to Natalie. "Those are called freckles, dear. Some people have them. The same way people have different colored eyes and hair." Natalie looked back over at George, still clearly inspecting him.
"Your eyes are the same color as mine," she stated again.
"Daddies and daughters have a lot in common, Nattie. Do you want to talk to Mr. George a bit and see if he likes other things that you do?" Ms. Henry, George decided, reminded him of his mum. He was glad it was her helping this meeting and not some Ministry liaison that would stare down their nose at him to see if he were being a proper parent or not. Though, George knew, those meetings would come soon enough.
"Okay," Natalie said, and continued to stare at George, though this time it seemed a bit more expectant.
"Ask him what his favorite color is, darling," Ms. Henry said as she stood up again, moving off a bit to give them some privacy, though she stayed within hearing distance.
"What's your favorite color?" Natalie asked.
"Green," George answered, scooting over a bit on the bench. "Want to sit with me?" he offered. Natalie nodded, and scooted up on the bench next to him. "What's your favorite color?" George asked, praying it wasn't pink. Gingers looked bloody awful in pink, and he could only imagine his flat becoming overrun with the color.
"Orange," she said, kicking her feet and looking down at her shoes, which George noticed were, in fact, bright orange. Oh, thank bloody Merlin.
"Like my hair?" he offered.
"You're hair isn't orange," Natalie said, making a face that looked a bit put off at the suggestion that his hair was her favorite color. "It's blonde."
"Not as orange as those sneakers," George made a funny face, sticking out his tongue. "But people call my hair red, really. Not orange. Everyone in my family has red hair and freckles. Though, I guess mine's a little faded, hmm?"
"Can I touch it?" she asked. She had already reached out her hand to do so, but remembered Ms. Henry's words.
"Can you touch—yeah, I guess so," he answered, confused. Natalie lifted up her hand as George titlted his head down.
"Oh, it's soft!" she said, touching her own for comparison, then touching his again. Natalie pulled her hand away and stared up at George again, looking suddenly unsettled. "I don't think we have much in common," she said matter-of-factly again. "Does that mean you aren't my daddy?" Her features started to soften then tighten in that way that signified impending tears, and George's eyes widened. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
"I'm your daddy," he reassured, still feeling weird saying it. "And I bet we have lots in common!" Come on, George. Think, think. Do not make this kid cry the first time you meet her. "Um, do you like jokes?" Natalie pursed her lips as if unsure of his reassurance, but nodded slowly, though tears were already welling in her eyes. "Um, okay, how about... um, what's a pirate's favorite letter?" he asked hopefully. Natalie didn't say anything, and George panicked and ploughed away. He squinched up one eyes and raised his right finger as a hook. "Aaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrggh."
Natalie blinked once, then twice, a fat tear rolling down her cheek. But then she smiled, and smiled wider, and then she laughed, shaking her head at him. "You're silly!" George laughed in relief, giving her a grin. "Tell me another one!" she begged, grinning at him in return.
"Um, okay, how do you find a lost rabbit?"
"How?" Natalie asked, excited.
"You make a noise like a carrot." Natalie squealed with laughter, shaking her head even harder.
"Carrots don't make noises!"
"Sure they do! They go, Carrot," he said, making a horrible, whining noise. "Carrot, carrot." Natalie laughed, the squeal rolling out of her chest in peals of laughter that reassured George she was definitely his, and that her mum had definitely had a good laugh, because Natalie's laugh was contagious, and George was laughing just watching her laugh.
"What do sea monsters like to eat?"
"Fish and ships! I know that one," she said, the word duh written clearly on her face, though she was smiling.
"Yeah, what other jokes do you know?"
"Where do penguins keep their money?" she asked, her eager grin telling him that she hoped to stump him.
"I dunno, Natalie, where?"
"In a snow bank!" George laughed and so did Natalie, and Ms. Henry watched from a few benches away, smiling softly as she made a few notes in Natalie's case file.
There would be bumpy roads ahead for them, but first meetings, Ms. Henry had learned, could be very indicative of how well a child took to their new home. She wasn't worried. Natalie was a good girl, and rather well-adjusted. She still didn't fully understand her mother's death, but that was to be expected at her age. And, from what Ms. Henry knew of the London businessman Mr. Weasley, and his family, they were a big happy lot who had done a great deal during the war.
A few more visits would be in order, but Mr. Weasley had legal custody, and, if the Ministry approved his parenting classes as satisfactory, she didn't think it would take too long to get father and daughter acclimated to one another.