"Do you want a coffee?" George asked as the last customer left the joke shop.

"Oh, um," Rhia began to stammer, shoving her hand in her jeans, feeling the too few coins there. "Um, no, I guess not. Cheers, though." She began to wipe down the counter with a rag, embarrassed at her lack of funds, avoiding George's steady gaze. "Where do you keep the broom?" Her eyes darted to his face and then back down again.

"In the stock room; the other side of the desk. I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, stepping out into the early afternoon sunlight.

Rhia nodded her head and continued cleaning the shop. This was her fifth day staying in George's flat, and so far he had refused to take any gold for keeping a roof over her head. She offered to cook, but so far he had refused that as well. She offered to cut her pay in exchange for the bed. He had refused. At first, she just thought he wanted to get her naked in his bed, but he always tried to sleep on the floor before eventually relenting and joining her, always sleeping on top of the covers, at all times remaining the gentleman. Despite that, though, each morning, they woke up, tangled limbs, her hair in his face, his hands somewhere awkward, and for a split second she was content and actually happy, and then just as swiftly, she was jumping up from the bed, so nauseous she almost didn't make it to the loo, forcefully vomiting.

She couldn't believe how sick she felt every morning. This pregnancy thing was a strange experience. She wished she had someone to talk to about it; someone, she thought sadly, like a mother or a sister. After she woke up each morning, pale and peaky, and rushing into the bathroom, throwing up the entire contents of her stomach, she would then brush her teeth and eat a hearty breakfast. Two hours later, she ate a second breakfast. Luckily, George hadn't noticed her voracious appetite; he was usually downstairs in the shop by then, but he did wonder why his cupboards were becoming barer with each passing day. She usually shrugged her shoulders and offered to buy groceries, but he turned her down every time. By noon it was over; she was better; completely normal again. She told George it was a stomach bug, and he continued to insist that she see a Healer, but now it was her turn to refuse, although she knew she'd have to tell him the truth eventually. She had hoped to delay that for as long as possible. There was no point turning his life upside down as well.

She looked at the prophecy orbs, lifting one to her face. Using the rag, she wiped away a day's worth of fingerprints, but before setting it back down, she put it to her lips, whispering, "Should I tell him?" She turned the orb over, gently balancing it on her fingertips as words appeared in the mist. 'Not yet.'

The door chime rang, and Rhia fumbled the orb nearly dropping it on the glass counter top, but a hand reached out deftly catching it in one hand, balancing a cardboard tray on the other. George smiled, handing her the orb, which she replaced on the display platform. He handed her a large paper cup filled with hot coffee.

"George, I said I didn't want any."

"Oh, well, they were having a two for one special. I can't pass up a two for one. Drink up."

"Cheers," she said, sipping the hot coffee, scrunching up her face. "Sugar?"

He tossed her a sealed plastic bag of sugar cubes with a wide smile, almost not laughing. "You know, I already put in about eight cubes."

"It's a bigger cup," she rationalized.

The chime rang as Rhia took another sip of hot coffee.

"Hey George," the tall, dark haired woman said as she touched George's shoulder. "Busy?"

Rhia watched as she ran her hand down his arm, squeezing his forearm as she leaned over and kissed him. Rhia stepped away from them, leaving her coffee cup on the counter, restocking the Whiz Bangs.

"Hi Katie. What brings you in?"

"You, of course."

"Go on, then," he laughed.

"Busy tonight?"

"Not sure. What've ya got in mind?"

"Drinks. Leaky Cauldron. Angelina, Alicia, Demelza. Oliver might meet us; Lee as well. Come on."

"Hmm. Maybe. What do you think Rhia?" he called over to her. "Drinks at the Leaky tonight?"

"George –" Katie began, but George shushed her.

Rhia shrugged, and George turned back to Katie. "I'll think about it. We've got some cleaning up to do here. I need to lock up now."

"See you later," she said, kissing him again as he steered her to the door, locking it behind her with a wave.

"Tidy time," he called to Rhia.

"Girlfriend?"

"Sorry?"

"Is that your girlfriend?"

"No, we're not dating. She's a friend from school."

"Oh. Can I read one of those books from your bookcase?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Of course. You're welcome to anything; well, anything in the flat. The shop you have to pay for. Come on. It's tidy time. I promised that you could clean my loo."

"Finally! A handsome man and a dirty toilet. My dream date." They were both laughing on their way up the stairs.

When they were finished an hour or so later, George collapsed into the chair in front of the fireplace, leaning his head on the soft back of it. "I hate cleaning the loo," he sighed.

Rhia ruffled his hair with a smile as she passed him. "You'll get used to the weekly cleanings."

"Weekly? I don't know about weekly," he laughed.

She chuckled, crouching in front of the bookcase, perusing his selection of books. There was an odd assortment of potion and charm books, including her favourite, Potion Making for the Putz – no doubt these came in handy for the joke shop.

"Witch Weekly?" she asked, rolling her eyes, holding up a tattered copy.

"They have great recipes."

"And this one?" She held up a magazine with two naked witches wrapped around each other, snogging.

"There's a fantastic article on business management in that one."

"Business management?" she snorted. "You mean, 'How to keep the people under you, under you,' that one?"

"No. The best position for your office manager – desk or no desk."

She slid the magazine back into its place on the shelf and pulled out a small well-used paperback. She thumbed through the pages before returning to the title Two Witches and a Wizard. Rhia sat cross-legged on the bed and began to read.

Diego was a man with a problem. He was engaged to be married in a fortnight, but here he was, in this seedy hotel room, feet propped up on the desk, looking at the sexy witch on his lap. She straddled him and began to grind against him and he moaned in obvious enjoyment. This was their third time together and each time they met, the sex became more adventurous and so incredibly hot that Diego could barely stand at the end of the day.

"Rhia," George called. "Hello? Can you hear me?"

"What? Oh, sorry. I was a bit involved. Were you saying something?"

"Tea. What would you like for tea?"

"Oh, whatever you like," she answered, but could hardly take her eyes from the book. Diego and the witch were making their way to the shower. Oh, the poor fiancé, Rhia thought.

"He dies in an accident."

"Sorry?" She looked at George sharply.

"Diego. He dies in an accident – flies his broomstick into a building or some other stupid thing, and that first girl – you know, shag on the balcony girl, she's pregnant, and she and the fiancé get together, but not in a sexual way, more like sisterly and raise the baby together."

"Sorry?" she said again with exasperation. "Did you just ruin the book for me?"

"Did I?" he smirked, rising from the chair.

"That's quite rude. I hate when people do that."

"That was Fred's favourite. Each time he read it, he was actually disappointed that the girls didn't shag. I think he expected the outcome to change."

"So," she said, huffily, placing the book back on the shelf, "What are you making me for tea?"

The fireplace roared suddenly, filling with green flames. Rhia sat on the bed, as far back as she could, so she couldn't be seen by the person flooing.

"George," the voice called. "Are you home?"

"Yes mum." He stepped in front of the fireplace.

"Oh, there you are, dear. Are you coming by for tea today?"

He glanced at Rhia and then back, sitting in the chair once more. "No, mum, not today. Next Sunday."

"When are you getting rid of that beard dear?"

"It'll be gone by next Sunday mum."

"We're going to Hogwarts on Thursday, remember? Will you be there?"

"Of course, I'll be there," he answered quietly, just louder than a whisper.

"I made lamb stew. Can I pass you a bowl?"

"Cheers, mum, you're the best." He took the bowl from her outstretched hand. "Could I bother you for a second bowl? Lee's coming over in a bit."

"Of course."

"Did you bake bread as well?"

"I'll get you some. Do you want any pumpkin juice?"

"No thanks, but did you make ice cream?"

"Yes. Strawberry, your favourite."

"Cheers mum. I'll say it again – you're the best." He took the two bowls of ice cream and set a freezing charm on them, returning to the image of his mother in the fireplace. "Cheers. I'll see you Thursday, and I'll be presentable, I promise."

"I love you dear. Say hello to Lee."

George smiled at his mum and then her head disappeared and the green fire went out. He turned to Rhia and smiled. "Shall I make you some lamb stew and strawberry ice cream for tea? I've just had a hankering."

She laughed, "If it's not too much trouble. I'd hate to put you out." She joined him at the counter, both of them relishing in his mother's delicious cooking.

Later that night as they sat in the pub, Rhia looked at the pint sitting in front of her; the same one she'd started with an hour ago, still almost full. She was enjoying the company of George outside of work and the flat, and she reminisced with Demelza about their last year at Hogwarts together. They had become somewhat close, especially with the darkness that surrounded that final year. Rhia glanced again at her pint glass. It was a good thing she liked it the other side of warm, but her lack of thirst did not go unnoticed.

"Not much of a drinker, are ya?" George asked, indicating her almost full pint.

She chuckled. "No, I guess not."

"I'll finish it for you," he laughed, trading his empty glass for her nearly full one.

"You shouldn't be drinking at all," a new voice stated, standing across the table from them. Katie had to turn her head to look at Rhia's bearded brother. Rhia remained silent, but George spoke up as she took back her glass, swallowing half of her remaining bitter.

"It's none of your business, is it? What do you want here anyway?"

"I'm meeting my brother for a drink; it's his birthday."

Rhia's cheeks became pink. She had actually forgotten, what with how mad her life had become.

"Did you forget?"

"It isn't as though I was invited, Gruff."

"Too true. Well, there he is. I'll be off." He turned towards the noisy crowd entering.

"Isn't that," Katie began, but she was interrupted by Angelina.

"Blimey, isn't that Llew Evans –"

"And Celyn Jones," Katie exclaimed, "from the Welsh team, and there's the rest of them – the team."

"Their chances this year are extraordinary; they might go all the way to the Cup," Angelina commented, and Katie and Alicia nodded their heads in agreement. George recognized Rhia's brother immediately from the shop. He thought he had looked familiar then, but couldn't place him at the time. He glanced at Rhia, but her eyes were downcast. He put a hand on hers. "We can go if you –"

"No." She still hadn't looked up, but then she could feel the mood at the table change and when they grew silent, she raised her eyes.

Her brother was smiling. "Aren't you going to wish me a happy birthday?"

She gave him a thin-lipped smile. "Of course. Happy birthday, Cel. Having fun?" She sipped her drink, but then Gruffydd was there again.

"You shouldn't be drinking that."

"So you said," George said. "I thought I told you to sod off."

"You must know, she's –"

"Gruffydd!" Celyn exclaimed.

Demelza stood up. "Rhia, I think it's your round. I'll help you carry."

Rhia was relieved to have an excuse to walk away from the table. She and Demelza stepped to the bar, together, leaving her brothers with George and the rest of his friends. Part of Rhia wished that this was a dream, and wanted only to wake up from this nightmare her life had become. Celyn tried to be a peacemaker, but Gruffydd was so hostile. He was firmly with their mam on this. Rhia could feel her tears beginning in the corners of her eyes. She needed to control her emotions before she returned to the table. She glanced back, and could see Celyn speaking quietly to George.

Celyn looked at George, almost apologetically, and said simply, "My sister has a medical condition; she shouldn't be drinking. Come on," he directed Gruffydd, but his older brother wouldn't move. "Gruffydd, let's go."

"Not yet, Celyn." He looked at George. "Are you sleeping with my sister?"

Katie looked from Gruffydd to George while George glared into the other man's face, but said nothing. Rhia and Demelza returned with a new drink for everyone, and proceeded to hand them out.

Gruffydd noticed his sister give George the change, spitting, "putain" under his breath.

George stood immediately at the tone, knocking Rhia off balance and into Demelza. He didn't know what the word meant, but he knew it wasn't a compliment.

"Gruffydd! Digon!" Celyn said, pushing his brother's chest back with a hand.

"What, Celyn? It's true. He gives her a job, a place to stay; he pays for her drinks. She sleeps with him in exchange – what else should I call her?"

"Digon! You should call her your sister. Go," he ordered his older brother, and then turned back to the table. "I'm sorry, Rhiannon."

"Don't apologize for me," Gruffydd called back, muttering, "Ceisio – yr aerwy; y ddraig werdd. Ceisio."

"I misplaced it," Rhia answered before Celyn could repeat the question.

"I don't believe that," he said, gently, "but it's not mine to bother about. It's your necklace." He gave her a sad smile, and returned to his group, already beginning to drink in his honour.

Rhia turned to George, "Can I have the key? I'd like to go home now." She was on the verge of tears, and didn't know how much longer she could contain them.

"I'll take you," he said, setting his drink down.

"No. Stay with your friends. Finish my bitter for me. I'll be fine."

She waited while he dug the key from his pocket. "The password is wizard chess." He watched her leave the pub, passing by her brother's group, but not even glancing at them.

"So, what's going on with you two?" Angelina's voice brought George out of his musings.

"Nothing, why'd you ask?"

"Nothing? Come on Georgie, there's definitely something."

"No. She's just a friend who's having a difficult time with her family."

"And you're her babysitter?" Katie asked.

"No, of course not."

"Good," she added, "then come home with me tonight." Katie rested her hand high on George's thigh, smiling. When George touched her hand, she leaned in to kiss his mouth, and was truly surprised when he removed it from his leg.

"Katie," he said, quietly. "I don't –"

"George, it's one night," she said, touching his face. "I miss you."

"I'm sorry, Kat, but we're not getting together."

"Are you dating this girl? Sleeping with her; like her brother said?"

"No."

"Not yet, you mean," Demelza added.

"Leave the man alone," Angelina chimed back in.

"What do you know, Ange, that we don't?" Katie asked aggressively.

"I don't know anything. Look, there's Oliver and Lee," she added, looking towards the door, taking a long drink and glancing at George as the rest of the table turned their attention to the door.

* * *

George stumbled into bed, and was surprised to find it empty. He glanced around and saw the two chairs propped together with Rhia's arm dangling over one side. Her blanket was on the floor. He sluggishly rose from the bed, and bent over to get the blanket and replace it on her body, but paused to look at her bare legs. Her nightshirt had ridden up higher than she certainly would have liked, but George had no problem with where it was. He reached out his hand, but hesitated, and then finally, deciding against touching her while she slept, he laid the blanket over her, watching it envelop her curves and he smiled, backing away, keeping the image in his head. He fell onto his bed, and was asleep in minutes.

"Fred! No! Fred!"

She heard the screaming, but it was the lamp smashing on the floor that actually woke her up. She threw off her cover, and ran to George's bedside. He was thrashing from side to side; he hit the wall and then the side table again. She grabbed his arm, but he screamed and thrust her aside aggressively. She flew across the expanse between the beds, landing against the other bed, dazed for a moment as some of Fred's things landed on her, but soon she found her voice.

"George! George! Wake up!"

Her voice stirred something in him and he slowed his movements and, eventually stopped flailing. They both lay in their respective places, breathing heavily in the stillness. Her head was throbbing and felt damp.

"Who's there?" he asked.

"Rhiannon," she panted.

He looked towards her in the dark, and sat up on the bed with his legs over the side, feet now resting on the floor. He put his face in his hands, wiping his sweat through his hair, and then drying his hands on his boxers. He grabbed his wand and repaired the lamp, and then lit it, illuminating the flat.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you," he said, looking at her. His face paled. "Oh my God! You're bleeding!"

He jumped off of the bed and was beside her in a second. He touched her forehead with his bare hand, and then rummaged through the nearest table's drawers for a handkerchief, and pressed it firmly over her cut head. She was feeling dizzy and a bit queasy as she saw the blood on his hand. He was kneeling in front of her, wearing only his underwear, and looked panic-stricken. "It won't stop bleeding!"

"Use the impedimenta jinx," she said in a calm but tired voice.

"What?! Seriously?"

"Seriously," she said so calmly that he threatened to panic again.

George pointed his wand at her forehead.

"Impedimenta," he said with a shaking hand. The blood instantly stopped flowing. He was still panting slightly, but his face looked somewhat relieved.

"Now," she said. "You need to heal me."

Panic set in again. "I need to what? I can't do that. No, no. Let me take you to St. Mungo's." He took hold of her elbow, and tried to pull her to her feet.

"No," she said firmly. "You can do it, George. I trust you to heal me."

"What if I leave a scar?"

"Then you'll, I don't know, sell me your joke shop for one galleon." He looked at her, still frightened at what she was asking him to do when she said quietly, "It won't scar. I trust you completely, George. Now, trust yourself."

He lifted his wand again. "What do I do?" His voice was insecure and shaking.

"Point it at the wound and curatio, all right?" He nodded and repeated her incantation, and she winced as she felt her skin tightening, the wound knitting itself together.

"Now, run your wand over the blood that's still there, and say, 'Tergeo'," she said, when the discomfort subsided. He did everything she said and waited for her to speak. "How does it look? It feels much better. Any scars?" she asked, running her fingers over the now healed cut.

He shook his head.

"What happened?" she asked, gesturing towards his bed.

"Bad dream. Why were you in the chair?"

"I thought you might be drunk, and you might like the bed to yourself for a change. I just decided to sleep in the chair. No worries."

"That's daft. You thought I'd bring Katie home with me, didn't you?"

Her eyes lifted to meet his gaze, but she merely shrugged.

"You don't need to worry about Katie. That's been over for a while now."

He leaned very close to her, and unexpectedly hugged her tightly, pressing his cheek to her hair and closing his eyes, thankful that he had not seriously hurt her. It had only been a few days, less than a week, but she was becoming a constant in his life; a good thing that he could rely on, and he was hoping that she was beginning to trust him and rely on him as well. He kissed her forehead, and helped her to stand, and he slowly moved her towards the bed, gently pushing her down on the mattress.

"Now, go to sleep. No more chairs; no more floor. We can control ourselves. I think." He smiled ironically and climbed in next to her, he on top of the blanket and she underneath. He put an arm around her waist, and rested his head against hers, near where he had only a moment ago healed her, his warm breath in her ear quickly lulling her to sleep.

Chapter End Notes:

Welsh notations from Chapter 3 Putain – prostitute or whoreDigon – enoughceisio – askY aerwy – the necklace (literally the neck-chain)Y ddraig werdd – the green dragonLlew – either a stand alone name or a shortened version of Llewellyn (or the Welsh spelling of Llywelyn) Notes on pronunciation: In Welsh, w and y are sometimes vowels. Once you know this, it's not that hard to at least articulate the language even if you still do not understand – ooeyw – ooSi – shf – v ff – fll – there's a breath before the l, like there's an h therech – as in Bach (the composer); not in changed – ddd – th My Welsh Resource English-Welsh dictionary – ..Conversational & Swearing – .Welsh Names.I also got some grammatical help from the LJ community dysgu .com/dysgu_cymraeg/