Author's Note: I am SO sorry it has taken me this long to update. School got out of hand and, ironically enough, I've started back up while studying for finals. I just need an outlet for when I can't handle another hour of studying. Anyhoo, nothing's changed; I'm still not Rowling and I'm still a beta and I'm still writing. Enjoy!
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As weeks passed and Hermione and Ginny's stomachs swelled, another piece of big news was shared at the Weasley dinner table. Luna was beaming and Ron was red-faced, his blue eyes sparkling.
"We're pregnant!" Ron shouted over Luna, who had begun to talk. Happy shrieks and shouts of surprise were heard over the scraping of chairs, as everyone stood up to hug the now-happy couple.
"So, I guess you two made up," said George to Ron, a cheeky grin on his face.
"Shut up," said Ron, barely concealing the grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. As everyone settled, Mrs. Weasley spoke up.
"So Ginny is first, then Hermione two and a half months later, then Luna four months after. Oh this is so exciting!"
"Your keeping tabs, Mum?" said Percy, a confused look on his face. "That's just a bit odd, isn't it?"
"It's a mother thing. She did the same thing with Fleur. It's normal," muttered Mr. Weasley, leaning over to Percy, although the whole table heard him. As dinner continued, Hermione noticed George kept whispering to Mr. Weasley, Percy, and Bill. She didn't think too much of this, but she had found it a bit odd he hadn't sat next to her like usual, but rather sat at the other end, constantly deep in conversation. He only looked up at her occasionally, smiling and winking at her. Although this made her feel better, she was curious as to what he was up to. He had been coming home later and later the past few weeks, as well as asking her to watch the shop, saying he had to go into London for the "boring business side" of the shop. She hadn't told anyone about this, and simply refused to think of worst case scenarios, not wanting to let her imagination get the best of her and their relationship. After dinner, Hermione sat with Harry, listening to him tell her about how neurotic Ginny had become lately, constantly changing and rearranging the nursery, even though there were three months to go and the gender of the baby was unknown. As Hermione smiled, laughed, and nodded in all the right places, she watched for George out of the corner of her eye.
George, on the other hand, was busy talking to his mother.
"Oooohhh!" squealed a bright-eyed Mrs. Weasley.
"Shhh Mum! So I wanted you to know so you can get started, like I promised. But really simple. Just us. No big thing. And add two more to the number, okay?"
"Who are-"
"I can't right now, Mum, but don't worry, it'll make sense quite soon. Now I have to go, so can you keep Hermione here for a few more hours, then take her home for me?"
"George, why can't you-"
"Mum, I can't. Please help me. I really need to do this."
Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Of course, dear. Go, go get done whatever this mystery is."
George gave her a swift, strong hug before dashing out of the kitchen as quietly as possible, walking far from the Burrow before disapperating, making sure no one would hear the noise. Not two seconds later, Hermione excused herself from Harry as Ginny came over, effectively halting their conversation about the nursery. As Hermione made her way towards the kitchen, Charlie rushed towards her, having been ordered to distract her. Hermione spent an hour having a good-natured argument with him about legislation regarding dragons, but then excused herself to use the bathroom. As she walked back, looking for George, Mr. Weasley trapped her by asking her to explain multiple random muggle objects. By the end of Hermione's explanations of a blender, brakes, and hockey, two more hours had passed and Hermione was getting worried about George's absence. She finally made her way over to Mrs. Weasley, who attempted to distract her by having her try a new pie recipe.
Hermione had had enough. She was worried and did not understand why everyone had been constantly switching the subject whenever she mentioned George. Desperately trying to swallow the huge piece of pie Mrs. Weasley had force-fed her so she would be able to talk ('This must be what Ron feels like all the time,' Hermione thought.), she choked out, "Maw-ee, wheh eh Orge?"
"What, dear?" Mrs. Weasley said kindly.
Hermione finally managed to swallow, then started spluttering, making a grab for the water glass in front of her. After a few hurried gulps and some hacking coughs, she managed to speak.
"Molly, where is George?"
Mrs. Weasley's cheeks blushed slightly as she said, "What do you mean, dear?" in the calmest, most unconcerned voice she could manage.
Hermione looked at her with a very Mrs.-Weasley-ish expression on her face. "Molly…"
"Dear, I don't know. He had to leave and asked that I make sure you were okay. He told me to make sure you got home safely." Mrs. Weasley looked up to see Hermione quickly brush away a tear that had strayed down her face. "Hermione! What's wrong?"
Hermione gave her a watery smile, saying "Nothing" in as unconcerned of a manner as she could muster. Then, she suddenly burst into tears. Mrs. Weasley rushed to her (in her mind) daughter and enveloped Hermione in her arms.
"Shh, it's okay," Mrs. Weasley cooed. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Hermione couldn't stop herself, she began to tell Mrs. Weasley all about how he had been gone for longer than usual, how he had been leaving to London for a few days at a time, about how he'd been distant lately, and how she feared the worst."
As Hermione cried into her shoulder, Mrs. Weasley silently thanked herself and her husband for having raised men who knew better than to cheat, but at the same time cursed George for not being stealthy enough with whatever he was doing when the time really called for it.
"I'm sure everything is fine. Actually, I can promise everything is fine and you have nothing to worry about, dear."
Hermione sniffled and rubbed her very red nose, looking into Mrs. Weasley's bright blue eyes, so very like George's, with her own red-rimmed brown ones.
"You're sure?" Hermione said in a very small, scared voice.
"Yes. A mother always knows, dear. There's nothing to worry about. Now, let's get you home. Let me just let Arthur know." Mrs. Weasley bustled out of the room, and returned a few minutes later with Hermione's bag and jacket. "Put it on, dear, it's chilly outside."
Mrs. Weasley guided Hermione into the crisp September night and with a turn, she pulled Hermione into the abyss of time and space.
