Disclaimer - Harry Potter and all it's characters are still not mine. Sadly.
It has been a while since I wrote a story- and even longer since I did any George/Hermione stuff. I felt inspired though so here are my ramblings. Enjoy.
"George, come in out of the rain this instant!"
"Yes dear."
"You sound more and more like mum and dad every day." Ginny giggled as a heavily pregnant Hermione waddled into the living room. She pointed her wand at the red head and glared.
"Okay, okay, I take it back. I'll just be leaving now." Ginny said as she ran out of the room arms up in surrender, before running straight into George.
"Leaving so soon little sis?" He asked. Ginny nodded, gathering her things from the kitchen table. "When will we see you again?"
"When is she due?" Ginny asked gesturing towards the living room.
"Two weeks." He smiled proudly.
"Two weeks then."
"She's not that bad Gin."
"Tell that to your sofa."
"What happened to the sofa?" George called as his sister ran out of the house.
"What happened to the sofa?" He asked again as he walked into the living room.
There stood his wife, arm still raised, frozen in place. In front of her was their two year old white leather sofa with a hole as big as Hagrid's head.
"She moved." Hermione stated, still unmoving.
"That was aimed at my sister?" George slowly approached his wife, gently removing her wand from her hand. "I think it's time for a lie down and a cup of herbal tea. Maybe a massage?" He said softly as he steered his wife towards the bedroom, slipping her wand into his back pocket for safe keeping. It was going to be a long two weeks.
After a long restless night George stumbled into the kitchen looking for a cup of coffee to wake up before work. Bleary eyed he walked and his arms outstretched, he felt his way to the counter with ease. He filled up a cup with hot coffee and turned to sit at the table.
"Hermione? Where's the table?" He asked, rubbing his head in confusion.
"It's not in the kitchen?" She called from the living room.
"Not that I can see."
Waddling into the kitchen Hermione avoided her husband's gaze.
"Do you see it?" He asked somewhat frustrated.
"Unfortunately, yes I do."
"So I'm going mad."
"No, you're just not looking the right the place for it." She said as she set about washing the dishes by hand.
"It's a bloody big table, where else could it be?"
Sighing she turned away from the sink and looked up.
"It's on the ceiling?" George exclaimed. "How on earth did it end up on the ceiling?"
"I sneezed." Hermione replied calmly, turning back to her dishes.
"You sneezed. And the table magically ended up on the ceiling?"
"Exactly."
"Not quite what I meant." George said, shaking his head as he approached his wife, placing a hand on her upper arm. "You don't think there might be something wrong with you, something that might require medical attention?"
"I had wondered."
"I'll go get changed."
"Thanks."
"Maybe we should just get rid of all the furniture before you do something else to it." George muttered as he left the kitchen.
"This coming from the guy who turned his mother's kitchen purple." Hermione called after him.
A few minutes later George once again entered the kitchen. "You know the kitchen looked good in purple- maybe we should try it out here?"
"Maybe not." Hermione said, throwing the dish towel at her husband. "At least it's only a possibility there's something wrong with me. There's definitely something wrong with you!" Hermione giggled as her husband held up her coat for her.
"Something wrong with me? I think not. I am absolutely perfect in every way."
"Except maybe when it comes to modesty."
"Who needs modesty when you have an award for everything else? Good looks, fabulous personality, wit and charm..." George continued his list as he escorted his wife to the car, as she was too heavily pregnant to travel in any other way.
After an hour of testing , poking and prodding, Hermione lay on the examining table ready to listen to the mediwitch.
"What's wrong with her?" George asked.
"Nothing. She's perfectly healthy."
"And yet our kitchen table is floating in the air." George muttered before receiving a glare from Hermione.
"There's nothing wrong with your wife Mr. Weasley."
"And the twins?" Hermione enquired her voice full of concern.
"They're fine too. Well perfectly healthy. The only thing "wrong" is that they have a lot of excess magic."
"Excess magic?" Hermione asked, her face contorted in confusion.
"They are very powerful Mrs. Weasley."
"They get it from me." George grinned. Hermione shot him a 'not helping' look.
"What does this mean exactly? Is there anything you can do?"
"We think that once they are born and separated some of the magic will dissipate and it should be manageable with a weekly potion until they are old enough to control it themselves."
"Once they are born." George repeated. "And the next two weeks?"
"I'm afraid we can't control that. It would be dangerous to your wife's health to try and dampen the magic whilst the twins are still inside her."
"So there's nothing we can do?"
"I think you should avoid performing any magic until the birth Mrs. Weasley."
"And sneezing of course." George added sarcastically.
"I'm sorry there's nothing more we can do to help you. Bed rest and a watchful eye would be best."
"Thank you for your help." Hermione smiled lightly as the mediwitch left the room.
"Oh that was so helpful."
"It's not her fault there's nothing she can do." Hermione sighed.
"Guess I'll be taking 2weeks off work." George said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
"It's going to be a long two weeks."