A/N: Just a little something that popped into my head. I love the headcanon that Padma and George bond over their lost twins, and then become really good friends.

Enjoy :)

Nobody expected Padma Patil and George Weasley to become extremely close. So close, in fact, that Angelina herself felt insecure at times, although she never doubted him.

"Are you okay?"

George hastily wiped the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes away, lest she see it. "Yeah."

She smiled wanly, smoothing her long skirt as she sat down next to him. "I thought you were capable of telling the truth."

He looked away from her. "That was Fred. He did all the lying for us. I've never told a lie in my life."

Her eyebrows rose. "Never?"

"Fred and I looked so alike, we used to pretend to be each other often. And while people were under the impression that the two of us slithered out of situations easily, it was because Fred had the smoothest lines on him that made people believe he was telling the truth."

Padma looked very impressed. "Not even a white lie?"

He shook his head, a small smile forming. "Not even one."

Only four months after the war ended, Angelina had told him she was pregnant, and they found out later that she was having twins. George didn't know how to react to this situation, and she understood. He was, however, surprised at himself when he found himself flying towards the Daily Prophet, where Padma worked as a journalist not three hours later.

He knocked on the door, suddenly nervous about how she was going to react to him showing up at her office out of the blue. A fairly attractive and well-dressed man opened it, lifting an eyebrow. He allowed him to enter, making for a seat behind a desk upon a which a plaque announced 'Matthew Lawrence'.

"Is there something you needed, Mr Weasley?" He asked, taking a seat. He motioned to one of the two chairs placed in front of his desk for visitors, inviting George to sit down. He decided to remain standing. Through his left peripheral vision, he could see a closed door that had Padma's name on it.

He was perplexed. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"I am Ms Patil's secretary. Rather new I am, I reckon you haven't seen me around before."

"I see. I am looking for Ms Patil. Do you know where she is?"

Both of his eyebrows were raised by now.

"She is at a meeting with Mr Cuffe and expected to return within the hour. Shall I take a message for you?" He questioned, his hand now poised over a writing pad.

"That won't be necessary, Matt." Padma herself breezed in through the door now, dressed in a crisp, white blouse and a black pencil skirt. "I've got the required documents I needed from Cuffe, and I now have an hour to kill."

Flinging a lanyard over a hook above the wall, she plopped down onto a loveseat against the wall opposite to Matt's desk and dropped a sheaf of papers onto his desk, which he immediately began sorting through. She tipped her head back, closed her eyes, muttered something, and opened them, clasping her hands in front of her.

"Something you needed, George?" She asked him now, focusing fully on him. He felt under-dressed compared to her in his polo and jeans.

"Yeah, uh..."

She lifted a meaningful eyebrow and he nodded guiltily. Turning to Matt, she began talking to him at speeds only journalists can understand.

"I'll be helping Mr Weasley brainstorm for publicity ideas for his shop - we think we may be able to replicate some of the more successful Muggle methods. Any messages coming for me should be detained unless it's a Class A - in which case, send it to me." She instructed.

"Of course, Ms Patil." Matthew Lawrence was nodding his head vigorously. "Is there anything else you'd like me to do?"

She shot him a quick smile. "Go down to the break room and take a damn break. You've been working non-stop since I hired you."

He smiled apologetically in return. "'Fraid I can't, ma'am. I've always been a workaholic by nature, and focusing on it is my kind of therapy."

She nodded understandingly. "As is procrastinating mine."

They shared a quick laugh before Padma walked into her office smartly and closed the door after George followed her in, leaning against the desk.

"So?" She asked meaningfully.

He swallowed once before answering. "I'm having twins."

It wasn't really surprising when you thought about it, Molly mused. They both had lost someone very dear to them during the war, and they had both refused war therapy, like most of the Order and the DA. They both needed someone to lean on, and she supposed they found that in each other.

Smiling ruefully as she cooked lunch for herself and Arthur on Thursday afternoon, she wondered what they were talking about just then.

"My parents want me to get married." Padma declared as she plopped onto the couch in her office, holding a plate of Thai red curry and jasmine rice. George raised his eyebrows at her from the other end where he was hastily stuffing his face with the food.

"And this is a normal thing?" He questioned.

She sighed, seeming hesitant before nodding once. "It was a big thing for Muggles as well about 50 years ago. A boy's mother picks out three or four girls from what she understands to be 'respectable families' and has the three of them meet her son. The son chooses which one he wants to marry. But after the British left India, things started changing, and now there are inter-religion and even international marriages, but only Muggles and the half-bloods. When it comes to Purebloods, well..."

He nodded his head, swallowing a big chunk of rice. "Got it."

She groaned dramatically. "I don't want to get married!"

"And you don't have a choice in this?"

"By legal right, I do. According to my family, I don't."

George threw back his head and began laughing. "You're a journalist!" He cried. "Why is this legal rights thing not enough to convince you?"

She grumbled, hiding her face in her hands. "Parvati didn't tell our father when she dated that boy from Durmstrang for three months. After that, she told me dating a man that dad didn't pick for her was a bad idea and that I should never do it."

His smile vanished. "Oh."

"I sort of feel like I owe it to her to just go ahead and marry this bloke to look up at her and say, 'Well, Parvati? Made the right choice, didn't I? Just like you said'. UGH."

"Can't help with that." He murmured, hiding his face behind his curry and rice.

She whipped her head around, looking at him intently. "What?" He asked.

"You can!" She said, her eyes shining. "All you have to do is tell my parents you're considering me for a job at your shop!"

He coughed. "I'm sorry, how is that going to help?"

"See, I'm sorry about this, but my parents are skeptical about Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. They wouldn't apply to put my name on the eligible witches list in the extra section that appears in the Indian copy of the Daily Prophet if they knew that such an 'unworthy and callous' man would consider me a candidate for your shop!" She explained hurriedly, making air quotes around 'unworthy and callous'.

"Hypothetically, let's say I did do this." George began. "What would happen when you don't get the job?"

She shrugged. "You'd have bought me at least three years before they bring up marriage again. Simple as that."

George rolled his eyes. "You lot are idiots." He replied, before gulping down the last of his rice and drinking up the curry. "And now, I have to get back to my shop and -"

" - and make the call?" She asked hopefully. He laughed and hugged her with one arm

"All right, Patil. I'll tell your parents I'm considering you for an assistant."

She frowned. "No, that's too high a position. Say, 'publicity agent'."

He raised his eyebrows but didn't comment. "Okay, that's what I'll say. You want me to send a letter or call them?"

"Letter. More official."

He laughed again, swinging against the frame of the door as he said a quick goodbye to Matthew, who never stopped working. Ever. As he left the office, he dimly heard Padma ask Matthew if any memos had come for her from the Auror's Department while she was having lunch with him.

It became a routine.

He would place Verity in charge of the hop during the lunch hours on Tuesday and Thursday and he would have lunch with Padma instead of at home with his mum and dad.

Then, he would get back and resume work while Padma went back to her own work, and Matthew Lawrence went back to not breathing, because George swore right and left the man wanked to work.

And then the only time that George visited Padma on a Monday was the 5th of March, 2001.

"Matthew! Open this door! Right now!" George was panting, having taken the stairs two at a time to get to Padma's 4th floor office, and while he was still fit, he'd flown all the here in record time and his breath was a little short.

"Mr Weasley?" The door flew open suddenly, and Matthew stood there worriedly. "Is there something wrong?"

Ignoring him, George ran at Padma's closed door, against Matthew's protests and attempts to hold him back, flinging it wide open. Padma was sitting with one leg dangling over the next, talking in her business-voice with Barnabas Cuffe. Upon seeing him, she jumped out of her seat.

"George? Are you okay?" She asked, completely ignoring Cuffe.

"The twins!" He managed to gasp out. "They're coming!"

It was like a shot rang out in the small room. Matthew began hurriedly packing her briefcase and bringing out her coat, while Padma apologized profusely to Cuffe, asking if she it was possible to re-schedule the appointment. He nodded, siled and walked himself out.

Padma hurriedly told Matthew to tell everyone she wasn't coming in for 48 hours and he complied, writing it down. He promised to arrange her desk by the time she was back in the office, and she dashed out her door, still wrapping her coat around herself. George hadn't stopped talking the entire time.

"And I didn't know what to do I sort of froze up and then Angie had to slap me and tell me to gt her to St. Mungo's or she'd never have my kids against and then I froze up at that and she had to slap me again and finally I had the sense to call Mom and she took care of everything and right now Angie's in labour and oh my Merlin soggy arse I don't know what to do and -"

She slapped him. "Breathe." She commanded him, grabbing his arm and Apparating them both to St. Mungo's. George ran in and hit his palms against the counter to get the attention of the receptionist. His eyes widened.

"Mr Weasley!" The boy couldn't have been more than eighteen and he was clearly in awe.

"None of that now, boy." He barked. "My wife Angelina is in labour and I need to know where she is!"

"Who's the woman with you, Mr Weasley? I'm afraid it's protocol."

"Family. Now find my wife!"

He turned to his book, his finger running down the names quickly, and he stopped at one.

"She's in Room 56 in the Pregnancy Ward on floor 34. Good luck, Mr Weasley!"

Saving the boy a fleeting thankful look, he stepped into one of the many fireplaces around the reception with Padma right on his heels, and she yelled out 'Ward 56' as loud as she can. Automatically, the fireplace spun them out on the 34th floor, and they ran down the long hallway, Padma's heels making a loud noise as she ran. Skidding past Room 56, she yanked on his sleeve and pulled him back. Breathlessly, she kissed his cheek.

"I'll wait out here, but I want to see the babies when they come, Weasley!" She said jokingly.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling. "If my mother doesn't kill you, of course." He replied, dashing into the room. He made a split-second decision not to let his family see the babies until the four of them were home. He loved his family, but they could be a little overwhelming.

And then George was glad Padma was there to comfort Angelina when tragedy struck.

"All right, Mrs Weasley! I can see one of your boys crowning, I need you to push, okay? As hard as you can!" The Healer commanded her as she ducked down to help give the baby coming a smooth ride. Angelina squeezed George's hand so hard he felt one of the bones break. He bit his lip to keep from howling, and couldn't help but manage a pained moan when she broke another one of his fingers.

"Damn you, George Weasley!" She screamed, as tears leaked from her eyes. "I'm never doing this again!"

"Keep going, Mrs Weasley." The Healer encouraged her. A midwife dabbed a cool cloth on Angie's forehead and gently massaged George's hand free, instead telling her to clutch her own. Angelina grabbed onto the midwife's hand with as much force as she possessed, and being a Quidditch player, it was a lot. The midwife winced.

George stumbled out of the room and was met by a rising Padma as she looked him over anxiously.

"Are they -"

She was cut off by a scream. She cringed. "I guess not." She muttered. Then she looked at George.

"Your kids are being born, you twat!" She scolded him. "What in Merlin's name are you doing out here? Your wife needs you, you arse!"

"I can't do that by myself, I'm sorry." He pleaded. "Two of my fingers are broken and I think I'm going to puke! Please, please come in with me!"

She inhaled deeply with her eyes closed and counted to ten. Then they flew open. Dropping her belongings, she dragged him back inside.

"Good going, Angie." She encouraged her, letting the midwife go free as Angelina grabbed Padma's hand in a vice-like grip. Padma looked to be in great pain.

"Padma?" she asked weakly. She nodded, smiling slightly at the woman giving birth.

"It's okay." She assured her.

Suddenly there was a slight squealing in the room and George rushed to Healer, who has holding up a small, blood-covered body.

"It's a boy!" The Healer proclaimed proudly.

"Oh!" Angelina's cry of pain brought George back to the present, and he whipped his head around to watch his second baby being born - also a boy. Angelina's pain subsided, and her head fell back, weakened by the process. George offered his unbroken hand to her and she took it gratefully, letting go of Padma's hand. George kissed her forehead.

"Well done, Angelina." He told her quietly. "I couldn't have done that."

She managed a weak smile. "Men are stupid." She returned.

He chuckled. "Yes, we are."

"Mr Weasley?" The Healer asked from behind him. He turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Yes? Where are my boys?"

"Come with me." The Healer intoned to him, leading him out of Angelina's earshot.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Mr Weasley, we thought that both of your boys were healthy, but that wasn't the case." She began.

"Healer, I'm not sure why this couldn't be told to both my wife and I -"

"Mr Weasley, your first child was born with a block in his superior vena cava. It cannot be removed surgically at this stage and we are banned from using magic on just-borns."

She lowered her eyes sympathetically.

"Sir, I'm sorry but your first child died two minutes ago." She murmured.

It was like as if the entire world came crashing down, but George had already experienced that.

He knew what to do, and that was the worst part.

"And what about my second son?" He asked in a raspy voice.

"Healthy." She replied, smiling sadly at him. "Both of your boys are cleaned, and your son is ready for feeding. I'll leave you and your family to yourselves now."

He watched Angelina and Padma talk to each other eagerly about the babies, and Padma asked her what they were naming them, to which she replied Fred and George II.

It hurt. It hurt so bad.

The Healer whispered something in a midwife's ear and went out. The midwife went into a room at the back, and returned carrying a tiny baby boy with the pinkest tongue George had ever seen. She adjusted Angelina' s blankets, and the hungry baby latched on eagerly.

"And my second son?" She asked, her eyes shining, looking up at George. The midwife gave him a sympathetic look and left, lowering her eyes. George swallowed.

"George?" Angelina asked, beginning to feel worried. "What happened to my son?" She demanded urgently. Padma withdrew from them as well, but didn't leave the room.

"I'm sorry, honey." He murmured, casting his eyes to the ground. Angelina understood. He heard a choked sound behind him.

"No." She whispered. "I took every precaution! I-I stopped playing in the beginning of my second trimester! I don't - what happened?!"

"He had a block in his heart, sweetie." He told her sadly. "It couldn't have been cured by either the magical or the muggle way. The little bugger couldn't have been saved."

"It was because of me, wasn't it?" She questioned, tears streaming down her face openly. "I must have done something wrong, and because of that my son wasn't healthy, right?"

"No, sweetheart." He hesitated, wanting to comfort her. Within a second, he decided it was worth lying to her than not breaking his streak - and like his late twin, he was damn good at it. He just never liked to lie, unlike what he told Padma.

"It's just a defect that appears every now and then. It has nothing to do with the mother's ability to conceive or carry." He told her, his voice breaking at the end. A hand grasped his shoulder and squeezed it.

"Let me take it from here." Padma told him quietly. "A girl is what she needs right now, not a boy. And besides, I know what it's like to have a child of yours die. Get a Healer to look at your hand."

Nudging him softly with her hip, he let himself be herded out, and stood a long time outside the room's door, watching from the window. His son was still suckling Angelina, and Padma had knelt beside the bed, and was talking soothingly to her.

He turned to go find someone to fix his hand.

Nobody objected when George announced that he wanted Padma as Godmother for his son, and Angelina decided that he didn't need a Godfather. The Weasley family would have taken little Fred Weasley II in if anything happened to George or Angelina, but he felt in a way, making her Godmother would repay her for everything she'd done.

Angie healed eventually.

And so did he.

A/N: Read it and if you like it, favourite it. If you favourite it, review it :)

Mimi Out!