"Move out the way!" Fred shouted and a gaggle of second years tripped over themselves to move from his path as he carried Hermione down the last flight of steps before turning into the corridor of the Hospital Wing and speeding his way down it.

Madam Pomfrey was waiting at the door when he barged through.

"I thought I heard your voice, Mr. Weas - what's happened?" the matron demanded, flying into action and readying a cot for Fred to place Hermione onto gently.

"I'm bleeding," she started to explain, her body shaking.

"Oh my, you're in shock," Madam Pomfrey waved her wand and the dividers settled around the bed, blocking out the view of the rest of the Hospital Wing. "Mr. Weasley, you had better find your brother while I -"

"No!" Hermione shook her head jerkily. "Please don't leave me, Fred."

"I have to get George for you -"

"Not yet, please," Hermione begged, holding on to his wrist tightly, her hand cold against his heated skin.

"Mrs. Weasley, I need to examine you, it's quite pressing," the matron continued.

"Stay just for that, Fred, please," Hermione voiced still looking up at him.

"Of course, yes," Fred pulled a chair close and sat at her side, clasping her hand in both of his own. Hermione could feel him resist the urge to bounce his leg or fidget, trying his very best to comfort her.

"Alright, let's see here," Poppy began, sweeping her wand over Hermione as she had done before but with a few differences. "Right, right..." More wand swirling and a complicated twirl. She summoned a glass and a corked bottle, offering Hermione a small amount of Blood Replenishing Potion and another sweeter potion Hermione could not think of the name of. She downed them, her hands shaking and her heart racing.

"Okay, my dear, I've stopped the bleeding but you need to be moved to St. Mungo's," she stated a few tense minutes later. "We'll wait a bit to make sure you're okay to move and then we'll have to send you over. Mr. Weasley, please go to the Headmistress, then find your brother and bring him back here immediately."

Fred squeezed her hand tightly and placed a peck on the top of her head as he stood.

"You'll be okay here, Hermione. Just try to relax, I'll be back soon," Fred gave her a small smile before disappearing before she was entirely ready to be alone.

"He's right, you know. Just take some slow breaths and we'll get you fixed up," Poppy explained. "The Healers and St. Mungo's will set you right."

The seconds passed by like minutes as Hermione waited for some news or for George to arrive. She jumped violently when the doors banged open again, expecting to see him flying around the dividers but instead was greeted with the familiar face of Ginny, followed closely by Minerva.

"Hermione!" Ginny sighed when she saw her friend sitting up quietly, not in any obvious pain. "Oh goodness, thank Merlin you're alright!" Ginny sat on the side of the bed and clasped Hermione's hand tightly, just as Fred had. "What happened?"

"I started bleeding. I don't know why," she answered and Ginny pursed her lips. "Do you know where George is?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"No, no, but Fred found McGonagall," she motioned over her shoulder to the older woman who had retreated to speak with Poppy in the background, eyes carefully watching her. "And she flooed the Burrow. I was the only one home, unfortunately. He's gone to find George for you, he'll be back with him as soon as possible.

"Mrs. Weasley, I think it's safe to move you now," Headmistress McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were approaching again and the matron cast a few more spells, nodding to Minerva when she was satisfied.

"But George -"

"Will have to meet you there, I'm afraid. There is no immediate danger, it seems, but all the same, we do not want to waste time. Ms. Weasley, if you would come with us," McGonagall directed and Ginny stood to make room for the Professor. McGonagall conjured a gurney and moved Hermione onto it delicately. As one, the three of them left Madam Pomfrey in the Infirmary and stepped through the fire to the emergency admittance of St. Mungo's.

There was flurry of activity -

"Hermione Granger!" shouted a stranger.

"Hermione Weasley!" corrected another.

"What's she doing her-"

Ginny held Hermione's hand as they were quickly whisked away from any prying onlookers, the redhead quieting many with a fierce glare as they passed by. Hermione heard her friend's feet padded along quickly, keeping up with the floating gurney that was not being directed by a Healer as McGonagall followed silently, face tight with worry.

The exam by Healer McGinley went by in a blur, Ginny not wavering from Hermione's side the entire time. Hermione asked multiple times about George but no one had heard anything. They had cleaned her up and gotten her into some clean clothes, a relaxation draught added to a cup of tea for her. She was sipping it slowly, feeling empty at the absence of George when there was a great commotion at the entrance to the ward and Hermione craned her neck, setting her tea aside in hopes it might be him.

And there he was, face stricken, hair sticking in every direction and jacket flapping behind him and his feet thudded closer. He hadn't seen her yet and demanded the attention of one of the nurses at the station.

"My wife, Hermione Weasley - where is she?"

Hermione had never seen him in any state similar to this one. He was pale and his fists were clenched with worry and in behind him came Fred, puffing and red in the face from running after his twin for unknown lengths of corridors to get here to her. Hermione immediately saw why George would be so stricken; Fred's shirt had her blood on it and she imagined that had not helped the situation remain calm in the face of the news he had had to deliver to George.

The nurse pointed and he cut her off, their eyes meeting across the room and suddenly he was speeding towards her, a look of fierce protectiveness in his eyes and Hermione immediately burst into tears even though she had already calmed down in light of everything that had happened.

"George," she gasped desperately and he was at her side pulling her into his arms in the space of a few heartbeats.

"Hermione! Fred said - he said - the blood -"

"I'm okay; we're okay!"

"Thank Merlin, I thought - I thought I'd lost you -"

There was a few minutes of rustling and holding each other tight: the others had disappeared by the time Hermione surfaced over George's shoulder, giving them a bit of privacy. George was rocking slightly, running a hand slowly over her hair. She had a feeling it was comforting him just as much as it comforted her, and she was thankful for such a caring partner.

"I was so scared, Hermione. I nearly knocked Fred out by accident," he laughed nervously, still shaking against her a little.

"I know, I was too," Hermione whispered. "Where were you? Fred didn't say, he just said business things..."

"I was in Wales on business for the shop. He found me quick enough," George answered, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Excuse me," Healer McGinley poked her head around the corner. "I have some answers for you."

"Please -" Hermione started, sitting back from George a bit. He shifted tot he chair next to her bedside but held her arm and hand firm in his own.

"Your school matron sent along your medical files for review, in case there may be something we didn't know about that may effect your pregnancy," she came around the divider there and pulled up another chair to speak with them. "I see here you have the tendency to overwork yourself, but you must set that aside for the next seven months. You must see that your habits are detrimental when you have another person inside you to care for," the Healer continued and George glanced down over at Hermione.

"You promised you would take care of yourself," he said lowly, and Hermione felt her stomach tighten with guilt.

"I did have a long day..."

"I suspect you have been working a few long days, Mrs. Weasley. A reaction like this is not from merely one day of working too hard and too long. I must stress that you need to take different measures now that you have someone else to think of."

The guilt unfurled and Hermione began to feel sick again.

She had done this.

"There's no use getting upset at yourself, we have everything under control now," Healer McGinley continued, recognizing immediately the expression leaking into Hermione's features. "I would classify you as a high-stress individual; you have a history pushing past your limit to achieve the results you desire and this must stop. I know that you have recently taken on a job that places many a demand on you, time wise. And women can be predisposed to these sorts of health risks during pregnancy, sometimes it runs in the family. Did your mother have any complications with you?"

"Not that I know of," Hermione responded quietly, digesting the information. Another reason to have her parents back flashed before her.

"Alright. It doesn't matter much, I'm sending you home with strict instructions to take it easy and dad," she turned her attention to George and he straightened up, "you're not to let her stress over anything. Make sure she's sleeping and eating properly, taking breaks, and I'm sending you back to Hogwarts with a supply of potions; you must take them every day." Her attention shifted back again and Hermione nodded.

"So, do you know exactly what caused this to happen?" she asked, needing to know the answer.

"I think it is less likely one thing, and more likely a combination of things. Do not underestimate the effect of stress on your body. It is already under enough extra strain with supporting and growing another human life. There is absolutely no need to push it farther." She gave them a significant look. "I see no reason to prevent you going back to your work, however I must advise you to make weekly appointments with the burse at Hogwarts to make sure your vitals remain in good shape. If they do not -" she paused, "I will not hesitate to put you on bed rest."

Hermione's mind was still and silent.

There it was.

She had no choice but to take it slower, easier.

Hermione nodded. She had the answer she needed now. She just had to follow the orders of her Healer.

"I'm going to get your discharge papers started and you should be able to go home within the hour," she patted Hermione's knee warmly and shook George's hand before leaving, pulling the curtain tight again.

"George, what if I can't finish the book?" Hermione asked, hushed.

"Hermione, we can talk about this later. We'll figure it all out, alright?" he gazed at her seriously and she knew he was right. Panicking would not help the situation, clearly. "Come home with me to the flat for a day or two, until I'm satisfied you aren't going to start bleeding again, and then I'll help you back to the castle and I'll stay there with you. Alright?"

Hermione nodded dumbly.

They had found out less than a month ago they were going to be parents, and they had just come extremely close to losing that. George rose to arrange her travel back to the flat and speak with the Healer once more and Hermione watched him hover, tears welling up in her eyes.

Ginny appeared a moment later, tissue in hand and Hermione accepted it gratefully. She sat quietly with her friend as everything was sorted at the nurse's station. When they came back to help her up, Hermione braced herself against George's hold, swaying for a moment with her breath held.

"You're alright, Mrs. Weasley. We stopped the bleeding."

At that reassurance, she let out the breath and they began their trek back to the emergency entrance, George taking Hermione home. McGonagall had returned to the castle already to inform Poppy of the developments and Ginny walked with them to the floo, promising to tell everyone that she was alright. She made no promises to keep people away, mostly because it would do no good. Molly would want to see her before the night was out once she had been told what had happened, and Ginny promised to visit with her later.

George took Hermione first into the flames while Ginny waited her turn and they spun home together, the flat coming into view quickly. At the sight of the coffee table, Hermione burst into tears, it signalling that she was home. The guilt that had been sitting like lead in her gut was trying to claw its way out through her tear ducts and George caught her as she slumped to the sofa.

"Hey, hey," he whispered. "Love, it's alright. Everything's alright; you're alright, baby's alright, I'm alright."

At that Hermione cried harder, and suddenly she felt extremely frail in his arms. Tiny, helpless and frail. And guilty.

"I know, but George," she started, breath coming in spurts as her body shook from the force of crying so hard and so suddenly, "I could have... I could have lost him, and all because I forced myself to work too hard!"

"But you didn't! And you're not going to let that happen again, right? So no need to get upset over it," he reasoned, pulling out a hanky and handing it to her.

Hermione was certain she looked a mess. Her hair was ruffed up from being carried around, her clothes felt weird and scratchy because they were not her own, and her face had been damp with tears and snot so many times throughout the evening that even mopping up the disaster that was taking place right then did not make her feel clean.

"It scared me a lot, Hermione, but I can see it scared you too, probably even more than me," George continued, rubbing circles on her back. "Please, love, calm down."

"But it's my fault, George!" Hermione sobbed, distraught.

"But nothing happened."

"This time!"

"There won't be a next time, I'll make sure of it," George answered. "That's part of my job now, to take care of you. Even when you aren't taking care of yourself. Especially when you aren't taking care of yourself," he amended pointedly.

"But how can you forgive me?" she raised her eyes and she could see his heart breaking behind his own at her pain.

"Darling, there's nothing to forgive!" he implored. "Truly, I'm just relieved that you're okay. Please," he cradled her face in his palms gently, paying no mind to the tears, "believe me. I'm not mad at you. I love you."

Hermione didn't have any more words for him, she just stared up at George, her eyes continuing to shine and fill, tears spilling over the edge and rolling down her face. George swam in and out of focus while she replayed his words over in her mind, his blue-gray eyes silently pleading with her to see things his way.

She would have to be careful.

She would have to follow the instructions to the letter.

She had to eliminate as much stress as possible.

"I love you too," Hermione whispered. "I promise - I promise to be careful."

George wiped across her cheeks with his thumbs.

"Not just for the baby though, for you too. It's not healthy to worry and stress so much, not for anyone. For you, it's even worse right now."

Hermione calmed down gradually, George's hold on her not wavering. His eyes flicked over her features constantly, almost like he was reassuring himself that she was alive and well. When she finally gave him a less watery smile and reached up to brush some of his crazy ginger hair off his forehead, he grinned widely.

"That's better," he sighed and hugged her again, and she took a deep cleansing breath; it probably wasn't good to get as upset as she just had either, but Hermione felt like that was probably all she had left in her for tears anyway, so she was in the clear now. "I get the feeling you probably want a shower or a bath," George commented as she pulled away to mop her face again indelicately.

"Yeah, that actually sounds lovely," Hermione nodded slowly and dabbed at the skin under her eyes one last time, unsure if she had the energy to rise again to make it to the tub.

"How about I run you a bath and you can soak for as long as you like?" George suggested, standing and making his way around the sofa and down the hall towards the bathroom. George busied himself with that and Hermione stood slowly, still unsure of her own body after her recent ordeal. She shuffled around, hung up her coat and the bag the hospital had sent her home with and unpacked it in the kitchen. Her clothes that she had arrived there in had been cleaned and were blood-free thankfully and she banished them to the dresser in her room for later. There was a supply of potions bottle, all clearly labelled with name and instructions on dosage, and with it a written schedule of when she should be taking them. The Healer had included more information on healthy diet and exercise and Hermione resigned herself to setting aside time every day to do the necessary things to keep her body healthy.

While in school and after, she had never spent very much time outside or doing physical activity - unless you count weight-lifting books physical activity - Hermione had also never been one to overeat; her body simply didn't need any extra fuel. She stayed slim merely from walking the halls between classes and on Prefect rounds. But now she was literally growing another human, and so her body required both more and healthier food.

The potions would help make sure the required vitamins and minerals were getting in and absorbing properly, but it was always better to get as much of the nutrients she needed from fresh food.

George had made sure McGonagall had received a copy of the nutritional information that the Healers had provided and the Headmistress had given her word to replay the information to the house-elves. They would see to it that she got everything she needed without question.

"I can take care of all that, love, the bath is waiting for you," George plucked the things out of her hands and set them firmly on the counter behind her. "Go on."

Hermione gave him a tired smile in thanks and wandered off. As she slipped below the surface of the full tub of water, Hermione basked in the silence of her body. The day had been full of work and book thoughts and history questions and note taking, and the evening had been full of panic and frantic heartbeats and crying. For the first time that day, Hermione could hear herself breathe and it was a relief.


When Hermione had finally scrubbed and climbed out of the bath, she had found her softest pyjamas laid out for her on the bed and had donned them thankfully before sliding into bed. From the moment her head had hit the pillow, she was out. When she awoke in the morning, George had already gotten up by the looks of it, his side of the bed rumpled as usual. Laying in bed on her back, she took some centring breaths and checked to make sure she had bled any more during the night.

Thankfully, all was well.

Shuffling out into the living room, she found George sitting at the small dining table with Fred, papers between them and quite obviously in the middle of a serious conversation.

"Morning," she croaked, clearing her throat after quickly.

"Good morning!" Fred turned in his seat. "Don't you look like a right ray of sunshine!" he grinned at her ruffled appearance. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes and closed the space between them, pulling him into a large hug which he returned in full force.

"Thank you," she rasped quietly.

"I'm just glad you're better," he replied quietly.

The two pulled away and Hermione blew a kiss over her shoulder to George as she went in search of breakfast. With everything the Healers had had her take yesterday, they had said to enjoy the next morning free of morning sickness, for it would likely be the only one for another few weeks. Taking full advantage of the silence coming from her midsection, Hermione made herself tea first and then scrambled eggs with peanut butter toast.

"What are you two up to?" she perched on a stool at the counter, turning to survey them as she munched.

"Just talking about the shop," George answered with a smile. She nodded and tuned them out, words like 'investment', 'necessary', 'start-up' and 'compensation' cropping up regularly. Pulling a notebook over and finding a pen nearby, Hermione started making a list for herself of concerns she had that her and George would need to discuss in order for her to cut some stress out of her life by not worrying about those issues.

First thing for her to do was put his Christmas gift to use and extract the memories of her parents for safe-keeping. She missed them greatly, but her worrying about them t least once a day and stressing over having them back in time for the baby was weighing her down. They were safe right now, she was safe right now, and that was all that mattered. She could reassess the situation again after the baby was born and she wasn't risking her health by holding onto thoughts of them. Hermione left the sitting room and dressed in clean clothes, relishing in the feel of the familiar against her skin. After tying her hair back, she pulled out the box with the pensieve in and took it to her desk in the green room.

It was a slow and gradual process, and an hour or so later George came to see what she was up to and found her with the pensieve, its surface shimmering with silvery memories. Curiously, some shone brighter than others, with more of an inner glow, and Hermione made a mental note to ask Harry if he had ever noticed any difference in Dumbledore's memories or any of the ones he had collected about Tom Riddle.

"Time to take this," George set down a glass with some potion in it and Hermione smiled up at him, tossing it back quickly. It was the same sweet one she had been given the day before. "Did you want to go back to the castle tonight or tomorrow?" he asked, leaning against her desk.

"Tonight maybe," she blinked thoughtfully. "That way tomorrow I'll already be there and organized. But I think it's important to talk over the next few days and get together a plan."

"I agree. I've been thinking a lot about things and how to try and relieve some pressure," George nodded, reaching out to tuck a few of her curls behind her ear. "I was thinking -" he moved behind her and pulled her by the back of her chair over to sit her in front of the bed there, "- that you should still aim to finish the book in November but if you need more time that's okay. I talked to mum, and she and Ginny both agreed that no matter when you finish the book, by November or if it takes the six extra months, that they'll help me take care of the baby."

"Oh, George, that's a lot of work and it's not their responsibil-" Hermione started but he silenced her with a look.

"The fact of the matter is that you started a contract job before you had any idea that you might get pregnant and our plans have to change a bit to suit the situation. There's no getting around the fact that you need to complete this job. So the issue lies with showing you that you can finish it without stressing out so much. So I'm telling you now, the plan is that I'll work three to four days a week at the shop and spend the other days at home, and Fred will likely be doing something similar, just on opposite days. Ron and Lee will balance us out, and we have Verity, same as always. Ginny still isn't sure of her plans yet, so right now we have her at our disposal a few days a week as well, the days she isn't taking care of Teddy or any other offspring that any of us produce. And let me tell you," he paused and grinned, "her and mum are positively beaming about this plan so I think it's safe to assume that it's not going to be an issue."

Hermione listened carefully, taking in what he was saying and digesting the implications.

"So," she started slowly, "I don't have to panic if I don't get the book done before the baby comes."

"Precisely!" George exclaimed, clapping his hand against his own leg for emphasis. "I knew Sirius called you the brightest witch of your age for a reason!" He winked at her and she laughed.

"Well, I'll really want to talk to Molly and Ginny myself first. I'm sure they're thrilled but I just need to make sure they're okay with this myself. It's potentially going to be the first eight months of his life! That's a lot of work," Hermione reasoned. "And the shop won't suffer from you not being there as often as usual?"

"It is a lot of work, but no, we'll make it so the shop is effected as little as possible. But we'll make it work. So you don't need to worry about meeting your self-imposed deadline of September, alright? Promise me you'll consider this," George pressed.

"I will, of course," Hermione gave him a smile from her chair and he grinned.

"See? not so hard, is it?" he asked lightly.

"And you're sure you want to be a stay-at-home father three to four days out of the week?" Hermione eyeballed him.

"Couldn't think of anything better to do with my time," he voiced and patted her hand. "Anything else?"

"Not right now. That was the biggest thing, I suppose," Hermione heaved a sigh. "I'm just going to finish with the pensieve and then I'll pack whatever I need. You're sure you want to stay at the castle with me?"

"Yes, love," George laughed. "Easy enough commute. Wizard, remember?" he flashed her a devilish grin before hopping up and pushing her back to the desk gently. "Carry on."

As George padded back down the hall to the sitting room, Hermione took note of the change inside of her. It felt like a great weight had shifted off her shoulders to be split between a handful of their people, and that made it all the more bearable. Reminded again that she had a much bigger family now to share the burden of tough decisions and tight spots, Hermione went back to pulling her memories from her head delicately, breathing easier as she did so.


A/N: The responses I received for the last chapter ranged from terrified and worried, to pleading with me, all the way to downright murderous. You guys are scary when you're mad! I hope this chapter makes up for it a bit; I really did need to throw a wrench in the mix. It wasn't pulled out of no where, it was always going to happen, so fret not. Hermione and Baby Weasley are perfectly fine now.

Chins up, buttercups!

Somewhat belated thank you to BlueberryFriday for her contributions to the last chapter, I forgot to credit her at the end!

Leave me a review!

Until next time.