"Good morning, Mr. Weasley." Verity said, looking up from the ledger as Fred walked into the shop.
"Good morning, Verity." He replied, hanging his cloak up on its hook behind the registers. "You can call me by my first name, you know."
"Only when both of you are around, sir."
"For a girl that works in a joke shop, you're oddly formal."
"We can't all be troublemakers, or the world would fall into anarchy." She said, returning to her work. Fred knew that Verity was a great employee, but he'd much rather work with his twin.
"I'm going to check inventory."
"Already did, sir."
"Did you leave anything for me to do?"
"No, have I done something wrong?"
"No." He replied. "I just wasn't expecting everything to be done already."
"I'll try to leave something for you next time." She always said this, but Fred knew she wouldn't. Fred already missed George and he hadn't even opened the shop for the day. He could only assume how much fun his twin and Seamus were having running the other store together. He tried not to be jealous, because it was probably how George felt when Fred started spending more and more time with Hermione.
While the opening weekend had been a huge success, the days that followed it were uncomfortably slow. Since Hogwarts students were only allowed in Hogsmeade during the weekends, there was a depressing lack of customers during the week, leaving Fred alone with his quiet assistant and his thoughts. Today, it was his worries about Hermione, it was her first day of treatment, and she was there alone.
"Verity." He said, getting her attention.
"Yes, sir?"
"Business is a bit slow today, don't you think?"
"A bit." She replied, not looking up from her accounting work.
"Would you mind if I were to leave for a little while?"
"Not at all."
He got up quickly and pulled his cloak back on. "Thank you much."
"It's what you pay me for." She said as he left.
Hermione sat uncomfortably in the waiting room, trying to interest herself in the book she had brought. There was a small handful of other witches in the room, some with their husbands, others sitting alone and looking as uncomfortable as she was.
She looked over to the reception desk, a grin spreading across her face when she saw who was walking down the hall.
"Hey beautiful." Fred smiled, sitting next to her.
She turned a little pink. "Shouldn't you be at the shop?"
"Totally dead today. Verity's holding down the fort."
"I'm glad you're here." She said, taking his hand. His fingers entwined perfectly with hers, and just that made her feel a little better.
"Worried?" He asked.
She nodded, leaning against him. His thumb traced little circles on her skin. "It's worth it though." She said softly.
"I'm glad." He kissed the side of her head.
The thought occurred to Hermione that she was the only one who got to see Fred like this. Everyone else saw the prankster, the one half of a trouble-making duo, the mischievous redhead with a smart comment to everything. She got not only that, but everything else. She got to hear his soft tones tell her how beautiful she was, she saw him in the morning, sleepy eyed but smiling as he cooked breakfast for the both of them, and she saw him now, taking off work to make sure she wasn't alone during her treatment. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back.
The nurse called her name, and she stood, not letting go of Fred's hand. He stood as well, and they walked over to the nurse. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you back here." The nurse said to Fred.
He nodded to the nurse before looking at Hermione. "I'll be out here when you get done, love." He kissed her before letting her go, and Hermione nervously followed the nurse.
"Your husband wouldn't happen to be one of the Weasley twins, would he?" The nurse asked as she led Hermione down the hall.
"Yes, that would be Fred. How do you know of him?"
"My son just started at Hogwarts this year, and he dragged me into their shop. They sell a lot more useful products than I expected, the Wonder Witch ones especially."
Hermione smiled. "I'll tell them you said that."
"Please do, get me coupons if you can."
Hermione chuckled. "I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you." She looked down at the clipboard in her hand. "You're starting specialized fertility treatment, repair from needling curse damage, correct?"
Hermione nodded.
"You'll be in treatment room seven, Healer Carrington specializes in curse based infertility problems."
She nodded again.
"Worried?"
"A little."
"Don't be dear, you're in good hands." The nurse opened the door. "Here you go, make yourself comfortable, the healer should be in in a moment."
Hermione obeyed, taking a chair. "Thank you."
"Of course. Just don't forget about those coupons." She winked, closing the door behind her.
In no time at all, Hermione found herself being prepped for treatment by Healer Carrington, a portly, older wizard who spoke briskly. He apologized for his colleague's mistake (proper treatment for the curse was rarely taught because of its lack of use), explained the procedure, took her questions, and then explained that he would have to put her under an anesthesia spell. Following his instructions, she lay back and closed her eyes, trying not to seem too worried.
"Anesthesium." The healer whispered, and everything melted away.
Fred sat impatiently in the waiting room, worrying even more about his wife than he had before, at the shop. He picked up the book she had been trying to read, and the piece of parchment she had been using as a bookmark fell out. He picked it up, discovering it to be one of the notes he had written her just after they had gotten married. He reread his messy handwriting.
Hermione,
Now that I'm allowed to look at your butt all I want, I like it even more. The lack of mystery has in no way changed my awe of it.
Yours,
Fred.
PS Those sparkly eyes in the morning are more beautiful than all the clichés I could think up.
He chuckled, sticking the note back where he thought it had fallen out of. He hadn't even known that she had kept them until then.
Looking at the back of the book, he noticed that it was a Muggle written book about dragons. He cracked it open and started on the first chapter. Muggles really knew nothing about magic, the first couple of pages were wrought with inaccuracies. Once he got to the second chapter, he understood what she had said about their myth being better than their fact. He suddenly felt the desire to ride dragons. Charlie would have been proud.
He hadn't even noticed one of the nurses, a different one that had taken Hermione away, had walked over to him until she was standing right in front of him. He looked up when she cleared her throat. "Your wife is in the recovery room, sir. You may see her now."
He stood up quickly. "Lead the way."
"She's coming out of the anesthesia spell now, so she may be a bit out of it."
"I see her in the mornings, it's nothing I'm not used to."
The nurse chuckled, stopping in front of a door. "Here you go." She opened it for him. He turned around to thank her but she had already left, so Fred walked over to Hermione. She was sitting up in bed, and smiled weakly when she saw him.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Like my insides are filled with fire, but I like to think that's a good sign."
He took her hand. "Still worth it?"
"For the chance to have a thousand kids with you? Of course."
"Are we still set on a thousand?"
"For all the trouble I'm going through to be able to have kids at all, I might as well." At least she was in good spirits.
Fred leaned over and kissed her. "I don't mind helping you."
"I'd hope so." She chuckled. "But no trying until the treatment is over."
He had assumed as much. "I'll keep my hands to myself." He promised.
"It's not your hands I'm worried about."
"Guys, I sit on that couch!" Ginny squeaked, appalled.
Fred lay his head against the arm of the couch and groaned. "Can we send her back to Hogwarts yet?" He murmured, his face buried in the cushion.
"Of course not." Hermione replied, pushing at his bare chest. "Get up, silly."
"Aren't you supposed to be in class?" Not moving, he called to his sister.
"I forgot my Charms book. It's on the coffee table."
Fred got up carefully and grabbed the book, walking it over to Ginny, who was standing in the hall with her back turned from the living room.
"You can look, I'm wearing pants." He said, holding the book out to her.
She turned around, grabbing the book from him. "This time. You two have a bedroom, you know."
"Oh, but there's only so much we can do in there."
She gave him a horrified look. "Fred!"
He grinned. "Best be getting to class." He moved to pat her head, but she ducked and moved out of his reach. "Don't touch me, I don't know where your hands have been."
"Want me to tell you?"
She screamed in exasperation before turning to leave.
"I got rid of Ginny." He called to his wife as the door slammed.
"I can tell." She replied, laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"Just you two bickering." She stood up, rehooking her bra.
"Aw, don't put it back on when it's so difficult to take off."
She picked her shirt up off the floor, pulling it on as she walked over to him. "We shouldn't be doing this anyway." She kissed his cheek. "At least not until after my treatment is over."
He had forgotten, again. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, we just have to wait a bit longer."
He put his hands around her waist and kissed her forehead. "I don't know how I kept my hands off of you all these years."
"Other than the fact you didn't have permission to do otherwise?"
She had a point. "Alright, but it's difficult now."
"I know." She said, her smile turning pensive. "Do you think we're ready to have kids?"
"Well, we weren't ready to get married but we've done well so far."
She smiled, but didn't look convinced. "Seriously, Fred."
He leaned against the wall, pulling her back with him. She looked up at him expectantly, her arms wrapped around his waist. "The shop is doing really well, so money won't be a problem." He began. That was a concern of his, he didn't want to have kids unless he could afford them, no matter what the law said. "We are married, we haven't been for very long, but we've only got three years, and I don't think you want to have them exceptionally close together." Arguably, multiples did run in the family, so that might not even be a problem, but he didn't mention that. "But it is a little soon." He admitted.
She nodded. "But we'll get through it together, right?"
He leaned down and kissed her. "Of course." While he was nervous as well about the idea, he was also rather excited. They were going to be the best parents. If they got the chance.
Hermione considered it a good sign when her period started. At least the treatment was working enough for her to get that back. When she was hit with apocalyptical cramps, however, she didn't consider herself so lucky. She curled up in bed, deciding that going to see her parents could wait for another day, and fell asleep.
She was awoken some time later by Ginny, with a letter from Professor McGonagall. "You haven't gotten expelled, have you Gin?" She asked groggily.
"Of course not. She said she needed to ask you a favor, and the letter explains it."
That couldn't be good. She sat up and looked at the letter, it was stamped with the official Hogwarts seal, reminding Hermione of her acceptance letter, back when she didn't even know that magic existed. With a sigh, she opened it and read McGonagall's request.
Mrs. Hermione Weasley,
While I understand that you may not be willing to return to Hogwarts, we are currently in dire need of a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the remainder of the year, following the winter holidays, after which, if you do not so choose to return, a new professor can be found for the next term. Given your aptitude and proven ability, it would be an honor to have you as a professor.
I would request to have your answer no later than Friday.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva M. McGonagall,
Headmistress
Hermione sighed, reading the letter over again. McGonagall had a knack for being succinct and to the point. They needed her, and that was that.
It was Wednesday, she had just a couple days to decide. Could she return to Hogwarts? And what had happened to the current professor that made them unable to finish out the year?
"Ginny, who is teaching defense against the dark arts this year?" She asked.
"Professor Fletcher, he's a loony old bat. Why?"
"Because McGonagall just asked me to take over for him, following the winter holidays."
Ginny's expression brightened. "Please do it Hermione, you'd make a great teacher. Besides, who knows more about defending against the dark arts than you?"
Hermione suddenly wished she had prompted Harry to take the job. "I'll think about it."
"Please, I really need to pass."
"If I take the job, I won't be playing favorites." She said, unable to stop thinking about what Ginny had told her about Ron, how bitter and angry he was as a ghost. Would she even be able to teach with him around? Did she want to?
Hope you enjoyed! Please be sure to review and tell me what you think!
-Zen