Author's Note: Not Rowling.
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George landed in the middle of Hermione's flat, which was extremely dark and quiet. He looked around the sitting room, but no one was there. "Hermione?" he called, but no one answered. He walked into the bathroom, which was empty and frigid, the white tiles as cold as ice. He walked next door to the bedroom, and saw that the side he usually slept on was made neatly, but Hermione's side of the bed was messy, as if she had simply thrown off the covers and left. Something was definitely off, because Hermione always made the bed. Furrowing his brow, he walked back out to the sitting room, thinking about where she might be. As the idea struck, he turned on his heel and was gone.
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Hermione was ready to rip her hair out. Why, in the name of Merlin, did everything have to go to hell when she was one of the few on the night shift? It was only half past eight at night, and yet she had had to deal with an obliviated man repeatedly get out of his room and follow her, asking her to marry him, a young boy who could only bark after being hit with a poorly-done hex, and four members of a dueling team who had all been hit with one spell too many. She was currently trying to restrain one, a man about her age that was wiggling around uncontrollably.
"Sir, please, keep still for-, SIR!" She ducked as she nearly missed getting hit by his flailing arm and quickly hit him with a stunning spell, which finally succeeded in getting him to stop moving. Sighing exasperatedly, she muttered to herself as she checked the now-snoring man over, thankful that her job allowed her to stun when necessary. 'Marie better get back here soon; I need help here,' she thought to herself as she checked the clock again. Only half an hour more to go before she could go home.
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George walked around the corner and came face to face with the ugly store mannequins. He winked at one, who nodded. He stepped through and into the main atrium of Saint Mungo's. He weaved between the people waiting to talk to the Welcome Witch, narrowly avoiding a kick from a man who could not seem to get his wiggling legs under control and ducking as an older woman let out a racking cough and expelled flames from her mouth. He was almost to the lifts when he heard a woman's voice call out, "Sir! Those are the staff lifts!"
"I have a meeting with Healer McKiddie," said George, using his best impersonation of Percy's formerly pompous demeanor. He silently thanked the powers that be that he had scrounged up the Top Healer's name when he needed it the most.
"Oh," said the young woman, looking surprised. "I'm so sorry, sir."
"Not a problem. Good day." And with that, he hurried into the Healers' lift and pressed the button for the fourth floor.
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Hermione had just finished dealing with the last of the new arrivals when another patient was brought in, accompanied by a young, male Healer-in-training. She smiled, tight-lipped as she bit back a sigh. "And what happened here?" she asked kindly, smiling at the young girl who now had antlers any full-grown buck would be proud of.
The young man had his hands on her shoulders, helping her maintain balance as she kept tipping over from the weight of the new additions to her head. "This is Marise Morgan," he said softly, raising his eyebrows in mild amusement above the girl's head as he spoke to Hermione. "Her brother hexed her when she got into their treehouse, apparently."
"Ah, and where's your mum, Marise?"
"She's downstairs with Roger, ma'am. She said she was going to spank him as soon as she got me taken care of," said the girl in a soft, melodious voice.
Hermione smiled at her and looked up at the other Healer. "You can handle this, Mark?" He nodded. She smiled gratefully at him and he winked at her before leading the girl to the nearest examination room. Hermione turned to the nurse's station to drop off some finished paperwork when she heard a shout behind her.
"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"
She whirled around, confused, and saw George running down the hallway towards her. "George? What are you-?"
"Oh thank Merlin, you're here! You're here! Okay!" He stopped in front of her and clutched his side, breathing heavily.
"Are you okay? What's wrong? Is someone hurt? Why are you breathing so hard?"
"Ran-, up-, stairs," he gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Lifts broken."
"What happened? Is someone hurt?" She was definitely worried now and completely confused as to why he had just come barreling down her ward.
"Had to come talk to you," he said, his breathing finally normalizing. "I need to talk to you about last Sunday. I-"
"Do we really have to talk about this now?" she hissed, feeling her face flush and looking around embarrassedly as both patients and Healers started coming out of the rooms, curious as to the cause of the commotion.
"Yes, Hermione!" he said quickly. "I wanted to tell you that-"
"Is everything okay, Hermione?" asked Mark, followed by an antler-less Marise, walking up next to her and resting his hand on her shoulder.
"Who the hell is this?" asked George, his ears starting to turn red as he glared at the other man.
"Healer Granger?" Everyone looked around to see an old man tugging on Hermione's sleeve. "Will you marry me?"
"Who the hell is that?" cried George.
"Of course, Mister McMannon. Now please get back to your room," said Hermione in a soft voice, smiling softly at the old man.
"WHAT?" cried George.
"Sir, I think you need to leave-" said Mark, moving forward towards George.
"What's going on here?" Hermione turned around to see Marie walking in, Lee's hand around her waist.
"George?"
"Lee?"
"What's going on?"
"Sir, you should probably lea-"
"EVERYBODY! STOP!" Hermione cried. Everyone stopped talking immediately and stared at her like deer in the headlights. "Mark, can you make sure everyone gets back into their rooms, especially Mr. McMannon?" Mark nodded, still eyeing George suspiciously, and started ushering people towards their respective rooms.
Meanwhile, Marie kissed Lee and pushed him gently towards the door. "I think it's best you go home. It's seems a bit crazy right now." He smiled at her and, after shooting a worried look over at his best friend and Hermione, he left. Marie bustled to the back of the desk and began sorting the paperwork, although it was evident she was trying to eavesdrop as she was moving quietly and rather slowly.
"Mr. Weasley, I think it's time you go-" started Hermione, turning back to George, her brisk hospital manner back in place.
"No no," said George, moving forward. "You don't get to pull that with me, Hermione."
"Pull what?"
"Pull the Healer routine with me! Now I went to your house to talk to you, but you weren't there, so I rushed over here, ran up four bloody flights of stairs, and god dammit, you're going to listen to me!" George cried, his face flushed, his hands gesticulating wildly. Hermione's mouth fell open. George had never spoken to her like this before. Actually, she'd never heard him speak to anyone like this before. "I've been miserable without you, Hermione," he said, dragging his fingers through his hair agitatedly as he paced in front of her. "Every night, I have nightmares of you dying. Every night, I try to save you and I can't. And I can't come over and check on you because you don't want to see me! And I can't ask Harry or Ron to check on you for me because I'll have to explain why I'm worried and why I can't just go myself. I know you said that you'd rather be just my Healer, but I can't let you! I can't go back to the way it was before, Hermione! I can't just pretend everything we've gone through didn't happen! You wanted me to stop pretending I was fine, and I listened. I told everyone tonight – what I'd been doing since the war, why I was never able to be reached, why you suddenly showed up at the Burrow, how I got my scar, everything." He moved forward and held her upper arms tightly in his strong hands, staring into her face with mingled desperation and frustration, his hair completely on end, making him look even madder. "I know I was an idiot. I know that. And you know that. You've known that from the beginning, and you still cared about me. I know I'm a screw up and I was an idiot for saying those terrible things to you, but you're a bigger idiot for not giving me another chance!" He took a deep breath and his voice lowered slightly as his blue eyes, as mercurial and deep as the sea, searched her face. "And I'm the biggest idiot. Because I've fallen for my Healer and I've never been more lost and confused in my entire life." He finished, and took a deep breath before smiling nervously and letting out a weak chuckle. "Oh dear Merlin, I don't think I've ever been that sappy in my entire life."
Hermione closed her mouth, which she hadn't realized was still hanging open, hurriedly wiped away the several tears that had slid down her cheeks while he talked, and smiled at him, the tip of her nose reddening as she tried desperately not to cry. "I don't know," she said quietly. "How big of an idiot does it make me if I'm falling for a complete idiot?"
He chuckled softly, his face immediately brightening as he beamed at her. "Quite large. Humungous, actually." She burst out laughing and moved forward just as he did the same, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her so tightly that he lifted her off the ground. Both laughing now, he set her back down and turned to Marie, who had been unapologetically watching. "Marie, I think it's time Hermione clocked out. What thinks you?"
Marie grinned. "Don't worry, Hermione; I'll sign you out. Just grab your coat and go. One good turn deserves another, eh?" She winked, making Hermione laugh.
"Thanks Marie!"
"Get out of here, you nutters! And don't you dare show up tomorrow, Granger! It's your day off!"
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They landed in Hermione's apartment and as Hermione turned to take off her coat, George grabbed her wrist and turned her back around. "Wha-" Hermione's question was cut off as George pressed a feverish kiss onto her lips. She wound her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes as she kissed back. He smiled and they broke apart.
"So do I still have to call you 'Healer Granger'?" joked George.
She playfully shoved him and moved out of his embrace, sighing dramatically. "Well, I suppose not," she said as she took off her black pea coat and sat down on the couch.
George chuckled as he turned to take off his coat and hang it, along with her coat, on the hooks by the front door. "Well, Marie said it was your day off tomorrow, so I guess that makes it my lucky day! I was thinking maybe we could"- He turned back around and lost his words as his eyes fell on Hermione, who was fast asleep, her body leaning heavily against the arm of the couch. He smiled as she let out a soft snore. "I suppose we'll change tomorrow's schedule to include sleeping in," he said quietly. He moved forward and scooped her up, smiling as she leaned her head on his shoulder, her warm breath tickling his neck. He carried her to her bedroom and set her gently on the bed. He moved to the drawer labeled "pajamas." 'Of course she would have her drawers labeled,' he thought to himself. He pulled out the first things he found, which had been thrown hastily in the drawer without being folded. He carried the pair of flannel pajama trousers and his favorite t-shirt, faded and tissue soft, emblazoned with the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes logo, which had gone missing a few weeks ago. He pointed his wand at her and whispered a few words but turned his back, allowing her privacy as her day clothes were replaced by her pajamas. He turned back around and lifted her carefully, setting her in the bed and tucking her in. He was just turning away when he felt fingers on his arm.
"Don't go," said a sleepy voice from behind him. He turned around to see Hermione's half-lidded eyes watching him, a frown marring her serene expression. He smiled at her and moved to the other side of the bed.
"I'm not going anywhere; don't worry." He kicked off his trainers, pulled off his sweater, vest, and trousers, and untucked the covers and sheet from his side of the bed. He climbed under and Hermione immediately moved over and hugged him tight to her, making a little noise of contentment as he stroked her unruly hair. "Goodnight, Hermione," he said softly, but there was no reply; she was already fast asleep. He held her close and closed his eyes, and in no time, he was asleep.
Not a single nightmare was had that night.