Chapter 4

Sleeping With a Friend

"Hermione?" George called from his seat on his couch, "What are you…" His words seemed to stop when he finally looked into her face. He didn't know what happened to her but could tell from the blood pouring from her lip and the limp in her walking, it hadn't been good.

Quickly he stood from his seat and rushed toward her. She offered Julie to his out stretched arms and nearly collapsed when he took the little girl. George looked into Hermione's face then into Julie's. The little girl was still crying, though he didn't know why. Why she was crying didn't matter at that moment though, all he knew he needed to do was make her stop.

"Come now, Julie, it's alright." George whispered. "How about we get you to bed?"

Julie sniffled and nodded as she pulled her blanked closer to her shivering body.

George eyed Hermione warily as he left the room. Only a few seconds later he reentered the same room and saw Hermione had fallen to her knees on the floor. He walked behind her and went to reach out to help her up and was startled when she jumped as his hands touched her.

"Hermione, what the bloody hell happened? You look like you've just been beaten." George commented, dropping his hands to his sides.

She turned her head back toward him showing him that her tears were still falling and smiled weakly, "Ron happened."

George's face fell. He blinked several times and looked Hermione over once again. Not only was her lip busted, which is where the blood was coming from, but the short sleeves on her shirt showed two, very distinct, hand print shaped bruises on her white flesh. He wondered momentarily what else exactly Ron had done. He knew Hermione had to be telling him the truth about what happened, it wasn't like her to lie, but he did have a hard time believing Ron would ever lay his hands on her. He thought Ron loved her, he was present at their wedding and never had he ever seen his younger brother look so happy.

Shaking himself mentally out of his thoughts, he repeated Hermione's statement. "Ron happened… You mean, he did this?" He gestured with one hand at her body.

She wiped the dripping blood from her chin with a shaking hand and nodded slowly. "Yes, George, Ron did this. He's gone mad. I don't know what's gotten into him, but… Well, you can see what he did."

George, wanting more to help Hermione than to question her any further, offered her his hand and said, "Well, let's just get you cleaned up then. We'll take care of this in the morning, alright?"

Hermione smiled weakly at him and took his hand. As she stood to her feet she gave a slight whimper and clenched her jaw.

George's brow furrowed, "Is there more than just the lip and those bruises on your arms there?" He eyed her skeptically, half expecting her to tell him no.

She gave a half hearted shrug and dropped her eyes to the floor. "It's not so bad."

George grunted, more as a question than anything and held Hermione by the hand as he led her toward the back of his house. He took her through his bedroom, where he had put Julie to bed, and into his bathroom. "Here, you just get cleaned up, and I'll get you something to sleep in. You and Julie can take my bed, I'll have the couch."

He smiled and ran his hand through his shaggy red hair as he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Hermione took a wash cloth from the cabinet under the sink and placed it on the counter. Turning the cold water on, she washed the blood from her hand and watched the water turn a murky brownish red color and swirl down the drain. She lowered her head to the sink and cupped her hands together to gather water. She splashed the water on her face several times then looked up into the mirror at herself. Watching what was left of her makeup trickle down her face and mix with the watered down blood she felt the familiar stinging sensation in her eyes. Forcing herself not to shed another tear, she turned the running water off and pulled her shirt carefully off over her head. Ignoring the pain in her side, she turned her body so she could see just how bad her bruised ribcage looked. Running her right hand down her left side, she flinched when her fingers grazed her ribs. She wasn't sure if her ribs were broken or if they were just sore but knew, no matter what, she wasn't going to go to the hospital, she didn't want to start any trouble for Ron, even if he was a prat.

George, not being used to having women in his house, entered the bathroom without knocking. "Hermione…" His eyes widened as he looked at his reflection and Hermione's in the mirror. He wasn't looking at the fact that she was half naked; he was more concerned with the fact that her entire left side was nothing but a mass of black and blue. "Sweet Merlin, Hermione!"

She covered as much of her chest as she could with her arms and simply stared at George. There was nothing she could say to him to make what had happened to her alright. It wasn't alright for a man to hit a woman, no matter what the circumstances were and she knew that.

He offered her the white man's tank top and silver boxer shorts he held in his hands. "I can try to help you with that, if you want."

She stretched out one arm and took the clothes from him, holding them close to her body. "If you don't mind."

He smiled and shook his head, sending his red hair into his eyes. Brushing the hair away, he took a few steps closer to her and pulled his wand from his back pocket. "Not at all."

After about ten minutes, George had helped heal the majority of Hermione's bruises and soreness. It took a few different charms to heal the cut on her lip, but eventually hit was nothing more than a mere scrape. When she had changed into the shirt and boxers he'd brought her, he took a seat on the toilet and faced her. "So, if you don't mind me asking, what happened tonight? I mean, it's not like Ron to just off and hit a woman."

She leaned her back against the counter and avoided looking into George's eyes. "We had a bit of a row earlier today… And when he came home, after dinner, he just kind of blew up at me…"

George smiled a little, "if you don't want to talk about it, that's alright." It wasn't that he didn't believe her, she'd never given him a reason to doubt her, but he knew there was more to the story than she was saying. He didn't want to press the issue, if it was his business; he knew she'd tell him. Besides, it was probably about something he didn't want to know anyhow.

"Oh, George," she cried as she threw herself at him.

George quickly stood and caught Hermione in his arms. Embracing her tightly, but not too tightly, he said, "It's alright, Hermione. You and Julie can stay here as long as you want."

She buried her face in his neck and felt the warmth of her tears clinging to her cheeks. "Thank you; I don't know what we'd do without you."

He rubbed circles on her back with one hand and simply stood for a few long minutes holding her as she cried. "Can I ask you something?"

Finally, Hermione pulled away from him and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. She didn't answer though, she simply stared at him.

He cleared his throat, "Why did you come here? I mean, I don't mind, I was just wondering why you chose my house."

She shrugged. "I don't know really. You were the only one I thought would be able or willing to handle Ron if he came looking for us. I wasn't sure if Harry would be home and I didn't want to disturb Molly and Arthur. And Ginny, I didn't want Ron to go there and find us and cause problems for her."

George nodded. "Well what about your mum and dad?"

"They aren't home, haven't been for a few weeks. I just feel safer here, I guess." She confessed.

"Here," he motioned toward the door leading into his bedroom, "Let's get you to bed so you can rest. It's been a long night." It warmed his heart to know that he gave Hermione a sense of safety. He hadn't ever been the one people ran to, so this was something new for him. The only person he ever thought cared, really cared, about him was Fred. And well… Fred was dead.

Hermione smiled up at him then followed him out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. It was true, his house was a smaller house, but it was definitely not simple. George and Fred's joke shop had brought in more money than they let on, but that wasn't evident from the outside of their house. After Fred was killed in the war, George, of course, was the only one getting the profit from the business. They bought the house he, George, lived in back two or so years after opening the business, and lived in it together, well, until Fred died. Now, it was just George there though he hadn't changed a single thing about Fred's room. The main reason for his letting Hermione and Julie have his bed was because he didn't think they would be comfortable in Fred's old bed. The same reason applied to his opting to sleep on the couch. He, often times, didn't show his sorrow from his twin's dieing, but he knew it was always there.

George pulled back the blankets for Hermione and watched her settle in behind Julie's sleeping form. She rolled over onto her right side, the side that hadn't endured any pain, and wrapped her left arm around her sleeping daughter. Just as George went to pull the blankets up around Hermione, she grabbed his wrist with her small hand.

"George…" Hermione started.

He raised his eyebrow in question as he stared into her brown eyes.

"Would you mind…" She trailed off. "I mean, would you just stay here, with Julie and me? Please?"

George sighed, "I don't know, Hermione."

She gave a tug on his wrist and batted her long eyelashes at him, "I don't want anything, I just want to know you're here. You don't have too, but it would make me feel much safer knowing you were here with us."

George was silent for a few moments, contemplating her request. He knew it wasn't right for him to be in the bed with his brother's wife and their daughter; but it wasn't right for her to be alone either. He wasn't looking to get lucky with her; that was completely out of the question. But he was a man and any time a man has a woman in his bed, that thought is there, regardless of whom that woman is, unless it's his mother or sister or someone along those lines. Then Ron crossed his mind. What would he, Ron, think if he just happened to enter George's house while they were all asleep, and find his brother and his wife in bed together. Knowing Ron, he would jump to conclusions and blow up again. On the other hand, if George left Hermione alone and Ron came looking for her, he knew he wasn't likely to wake up until Ron started screaming, and then, it could be too late.

He ran his free hand through his hair and rested it on the back of his neck. "Alright, I'll stay."

Hermione smiled gratefully, "thank you."

George kicked off his shoes and left them beside the bed then pulled his blue shirt off over his head, revealing the same type of tank top he'd given Hermione. He decided it was probably better than he leave his jeans on, just incase. Once he was in bed, behind Hermione, he pulled the blankets up over the two of them and folded his arms over his chest as he tolled over on his side.

After a few long minutes, Hermione's voice broke the silence once more, "George… I hate to be such a bother, but could you… could you just hold me?"

George shakily reached his right arm over Hermione and wrapped it around her small waist. Pulling himself closer to her he breathed, "Better?"

She sighed and gave a slight nod, which caused her hair to tickle his face. "Yes."

Hermione awoke at nine o'clock in the morning and found herself alone in George's bed. Neither he nor Julie were anywhere in sight and she panicked. Jumping out of bed she ran down the short hallway and into the kitchen.

Giving a sigh of relief, she said, "Oh, thank Merlin."

George's head shot up from his bowl of cereal. "What's that?" He asked letting milk drip from his chin, which Julie laughed at.

Hermione shook her head, "Nothing, it was nothing."

"Mummy," Julie said sliding down out of her chair, "Why are we at Uncle George's house?" She tugged on her mother's hand as a signal to be picked up. When she was in Hermione's arms, resting with one leg on either side of Hermione's ribs she added, "And where's daddy?"

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew Julie would ask questions but wasn't sure what to tell her. Julie didn't need to know about the fight; well she didn't need to know anymore than she already knew. "Well, darling," she cleared her throat and looked at George, seeming to be asking him for an answer.

Without a seconds thought, George stood up from his seat and crossed the room so he was standing beside Hermione. Patting Julie in he back he said, "You're here because your daddy had something he needed to get done and he didn't want you and your mum to be all alone at home. So, he asked me if I would mind if you and your mum stayed with me for a little while." Squeezing the little girl just above the knee he continued, "And you know what I said?" Julie shook her head, "I told him I would love to have you and your mum here."

Julie lunged out of her mother's arms and into George's chest. "That's because you love me, cause I'm your ickle Julie!"

George wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck with his face. "You're right; I do love you because you're my ickle Julie."

Julie pushed George's head away from her with both of her small hands as she giggled. "Eew, Uncle George, that tickles!"

George, once Julie had removed her hands from his face, quickly pushed his face back into her neck and nuzzled her again. She laughed and thrashed in his arms. Pushing his head back once more she pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows, "It's not nice to do something when someone's asked you not to."

George smiled. "Oh, so now you're being serious, are you?" Before Julie could answer his hands were at her sides tickling her madly.

Giggling and gasping for air she said, "No… Nooooo! Uncle George! No, quit it!" She swatted his right hand with hers and gave him a very disapproving look, almost a sort of smirk, "I said to stop it!"

George suppressed his laughter and stared into her honey brown eyes, "Yes ma'am."

Hermione watched George and Julie as they interacted and smiled. Only at times, times such as this one, could Hermione really see Julie's real rather in her. Sure, she did have an uncanny resemblance to that man, but her facial expressions were what actually made her look like him. It wasn't the slight point of her face or the shape of her eyes, not even her blond hair. No, it was that smirk that always seemed to tug at the corners of her mouth. It was her lips that gave it away. Draco Malfoy had those exact same lips.

A/N: Okay, so, now you all know just who it is. I do so hope you liked the chapter, and if you didn't, let me know why. As always reviews are welcome, even if they're flames. Sway