My Brother's Child
Fred's girlfriend Lydia goes to Fred's the funeral to lay flowers on his grave and breaks down crying. After the funeral, she tells George that she's pregnant with Fred's baby, and he accidently announces her pregnancy to the entire family. However, George decides at Fred's wake that he'd like to raise his brother's child. How can he convince her to marry him? Does she? What do the others think?
~x~
The Wake
The skies were a gloomy grey, which just seemed appropriate somehow. George stood between Charlie and Percy watching the slight breeze ruffle the petals on the flowers. If he had to listen to Percy lament about how it should've been him instead of Fred that died in that corridor one more time, he was going to hex him. His mum was crying – still. She hadn't really stopped, at least not in his presence. Somehow, just the sight of him sent his mum into hysterics all over again. He was thinking about transfiguring his nose and donning a new hair color. Everyone expects me to be falling apart… coming over teary eyed. It must be my ornery side, the obstinate part of my personality. Even Charlie kept whispering to him, what he supposed were words of comfort or something of the sort, but his brother was usually on his bad side, the one with the missing ear. Blimey, I actually have a bad side now… Bugger. I'd happily agree to it for the rest of my life that he was the better looking of us – anything – just to have him back!
A lone bagpipe played Amazing Grace not too far away. It wasn't really for Fred; there were several people being buried today. An area by the forest and not too far from the lake had been designate as a burial place for the fallen heroes of the Hogwarts Battle. Mum and Dad had been sad but pleased that Fred had been given 'hero' status to be buried here. The ring of tired and sad people that surrounded the site, all dressed in somber robes, holding flowers for loved ones, was quite a crowd. George looked up to where Firenze stood with his herd, the bandages from Professor Grubbly-Plank still in place. Even the centaurs are standing vigil along the trees.
His gaze traveled slowly from the path where Firenze and Dramoon stood to the hole in over which Fred's coffin hovered, only a few steps from the centaur hooves. Good place, we used to go into the forest just past where Fred's grave is. I wonder if anyone but Hagrid knows that. Course, it was Hagrid that laid him here.
George looked up cross the graves at the other mourners and saw Lydia. She was in black, her eyes looked tired, and her hair was tied back in a ribbon of Gryffindor red. The black does nothing for her… makes the dark circles under her eyes show up more. She was wearing the ruby earrings Fred had given her for Christmas. Well, we both bought them for her – only she was so amazed by the gift, hugging and kissing Fred so warmly, I didn't have the heart to tell her I paid half! Well, actually the money came from the shop's profits so it was like I paid half. She'd done so much for us these last two years since we'd all left Hogwarts, helping us keep up with product production and helping with the purchases of supplies. She's a real sweetheart.
It was simply a chance of fate that she hadn't been at the castle that day. Fred had magically sealed her into his bedroom before they left and never had the opportunity to tell him why. Her being an Animagus would've been downright helpful, but Fred, in his hurry to respond to the call from his DA Galleon, hadn't explained. Just dropped her wand in the kitchenette table and ran for the Floo.
George had come home to find Lydia curled up on Fred's bed, hugging his pillow and crying. She had run from the room, screaming for him, angry at being locked up. Who could've blamed her. George told her then. She'd stood frozen, waiting for him to laugh or tell her it had been a joke, then ran down into the shop thinking it had been a trick. He'd found her on the floor in a ball, crying hysterically. All he could do then was hold her. He'd felt like a clod, inhaling the fragrance of her hair and wishing she was lamenting for him like that.
She'd refused to leave Fred's room afterwards, even to eat. George had spent several meals, sharing sandwiches on Fred's bed, watching huge tears roll down her cheek. Her long, silky, sandy-blonde hair had hung loose, framing her face, and her soft amber-brown eyes had been blood shot and puffy. Even her nose had been pink from wiping it so often. Nevertheless, he'd still thought her pretty. If she'd only sat next to me that night instead of Fred, asking for help on her homework. Or that night in the hospital wing when she sat on Fred's bed instead of mine… I reckon she'd have been my girl. Well, she would've if I'd been sleeping on my side facing Fred, instead of on my back that night like a blanker. She'd never really been able to tell us apart in school, constantly confusing herself by trying to figure out who was who. It'd been so fun all those years teasing her, and she was so gullible to fall for it each time. Nevertheless, in the end it'd been Fred who'd kissed her first – so I backed off. I was the one who didn't come out with the first move. I just didn't know – I wasn't sure if she liked me or Fred then.
A canon fired from somewhere back at the castle, jerking George from his memories, and the coffins magically lowered into the ground. Fred's coffin vanished under a white marble slab that simply bore his name, the dates of his life and a few words that Hermione had written for him. George turned around and sighed. Fifty-nine, he thought, although he didn't really want to count. Fifty-nine marble slabs, all in rows and squared off. At least Fred's here, right at our favorite path into the trees…. As his family began to move off, George noticed that Lydia hadn't moved, clutching a bouquet of water avens to her chest. Her favorite flower, the ones Fred used to send her by owl. Instead of following his family, George walked around Fred's marker and approached Lydia. She looked up at him, biting her lip with thick tears running down her face.
Her face reflected how he felt, but was unable to match. He'd not cried since that day in the shop when he'd held her, to give her his support, and hadn't shed any tears since. Instead, he'd just held her, feeling their shared pain as she cried against his chest until she fell asleep.
"Hi," he said, not sure what to say.
Another tear ran down her cheek. "Hi." She looked up from the grave and tried to give him a small smile.
"You okay?" No, she's not, you wanker, he berated himself.
She turned to stare at Fred's marker. "Yeah, I suppose so." She bent down and wiped some nonexistent dust from the surface of the stone. "He wouldn't let me… He locked me up. I could've…" Her head dropped.
"He was adamant," George stated, trying to explain. "I reckon he didn't want you anywhere near the fighting." George helped her to her feet and placed an arm across her shoulders. She turned toward him, crushing the flowers against his chest. Gently, he removed the flowers and she looked up at him.
"He used to give these to me," she said softly.
"I know, I had to watch the shop when he went to get them," he replied, looking at the partially crushed white blooms. "You want to hang onto them?"
She shook her head and looked down at the crushed flowers. "They're smashed."
"He won't mind." George watched as she bent down to lay the flowers on Fred's grave and stood back up. He pulled her into a hug, and Lydia cried against his chest, eventually placing her arms around him. He could feel her pain and held her tighter, allowing her to shed the tears that wouldn't come for him.
"George," Charlie said softly. "Oh hi, Lydia."
George hadn't even noticed that his brother had approached. He looked up at Charlie over Lydia's head and simply nodded, not moving away from her or letting her go.
"Mum is having everyone come home to the Burrow. Lydia, do you want to come?" Charlie asked.
I should have invited her, George mentally kicked himself. Well, I would've after she stopped crying.
Lydia turned her head to look at Charlie and nodded. George released her as she turned away from him to face Charlie. "Can you Apparate?" Charlie asked.
"I'll bring her," George said. It's the least I can do…
Charlie turned and walked away. "I shouldn't Apparate," Lydia said softly.
The corner of his mouth lifted into a half smile. "Fred told me that you hated Apparating, but, Lydia, I can…"
She looked up at him, her expression worried. "No, I mean I shouldn't… not without…" She looked away from him, obviously uncomfortable with the idea. "I haven't seen my… been cleared for Apparation yet."
"You Apparated when I told you about the funeral," George stated, confused.
"That was reckless of me. I shouldn't have done that." She looked down at Fred's grave. "He'd've been really mad at me if he'd known I'd risked…" She started to cry again.
"Splinching?" George asked, surprised. "I don't think that would've been a problem with all the Healers around here."
A strand of hair escaped the ribbon and brushed across her face, sticking to the wet trail of her tears. "No, it's not that… I haven't seen a Healer yet."
He was confused now. "Are you hurt? Do you want to see Madam Pomfrey? She's right over there helping Mrs. Creevy."
"I'm not hurt. It's okay. I can wait. Mrs. Creevy needs her more than I do." Lydia turned to walk away.
"So are you coming?" George asked, quickly catching up to her. "I'm sure I can make a Portkey or find one?"
"Can't…" She stopped and looked at the lake. "I'm sorry," she said, turning to look at him again. "I can Floo if I'm careful and for short distances, and I can try Apparating, but I don't want to if it's far…" She looked back at the graves. Already a stone and wrought-iron fence was being magically erected. "At least he knew. At least he…" She fell to her knees crying again.
"Lydia, tell me." George hated to see her so crushed. "He knew what? That you loved him? We both knew that." He reached down to help pull her to her feet. "C'mon to the house, I'll get you there safely."
"All right. But be extra careful," she said, still holding his hand.
"I can do this, I won't splinch you," he said, pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her.
"Not me, the baby," she said softly, just before George Disapparated with her.
"Baby!" he shouted as they Apparated in front of the Burrow. "You're – you are? He – you – baby…?"
Ron, Charlie and Harry were still in the front garden, being ushered inside by his mum when George and Lydia appeared in front of the house. Lydia flushed and bowed her head. He tipped her chin up to make her look at him. "A baby? How long? Are you? Really? When?"
Her face lit up in the first real smile he'd seen since the day he and Fred had left to go fight. Her simple smile warmed his heart. "He asked the same things and in the same order too."
"What's this about a baby?" Charlie asked, turning around and starting to walk over to them.
"You're pregnant?" Ron shouted from the front stoop.
Merlin's balls! She's pregnant? By Fred… "So, when? How?" George stammered, still gobsmacked by the news.
"What did you say, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked from the doorway. "Who's having a baby?"
Lydia simply blushed and looked down at the ground. Ron was now following Charlie, closely followed by Harry.
George was watching Lydia, wishing he'd known about this before he'd Apparated with her. That's what she was trying to tell you, you idiot!
"Well, are you?" Ron asked in his usual tactless way.
"Ron, don't yell at her," Harry said. "George's the one that said anything about having a baby."
"Did you know she was pregnant when you Apparated?" Charlie asked, stopping next to George. "What were you thinking? You have to be extra careful when Apparating with a pregnant witch, so you don't splinch the baby!" He turned his attention from berating his brother to Lydia. "Are you all right? Do you hurt anywhere – I mean down – in – does it hurt?"
Lydia shook her head, refusing to look at anyone.
"So she is pregnant!" Ron said, and George groaned.
"Lydia, are you sure? No cramping, no pains of any kind?" Charlie asked, pulling his wand free from his pocket. "If you start bleeding, we'll get you a Healer…"
"Who's bleeding?" Mrs. Weasley asked, hurrying over. "George, is Lydia bleeding? Oh, my goodness, are you all right?"
"She's pregnant, Mum," Ron announced, and George really wanted to hex him.
Lydia turned a deep pink and bowed her head as she did when his family surrounded her. Her shyness around large crowds, or the entire Weasley clan, was one of her more adorable traits. "I – um... No. I don't think I'm bleeding. I don't hurt anywhere…"
"Lydia dear, are you sure…? Do you need…? Of course you do," Mr. Weasley began her fussing over Lydia, and Lydia stepped closer to George as if needing rescuing.
Bludgers… I had to open my big mouth! George sent his Patronus into the house to get Hermione and Ginny. Hermione will know how to handle Ron and Harry, and it's always good to have the girls around when Mum starts going. If Mum starts acting anything like she did when Fleur or Tonks was pregnant…
"Well, let's get you in the house, you need to sit down!" Mrs. Weasley said, reaching out to guide Lydia into the house. "Boys, come on, let's get inside. There are others arriving… Lydia, do you need anything?"
George felt Lydia's hand slip from his as she was ushered into the house by his mother, followed closely by Charlie and Harry, as Ron looked from George to the retreating group as if confused. Sighing, George ran into the house after Lydia, hoping to be able to do some damage control. Really great! Now the entire family will know, and Lydia's embarrassed and having to deal with Mum's infernal mothering.
When George entered the house, Charlie, Ginny, Fleur and his mum were clustered around Lydia. Hermione was keeping Ron and Harry occupied in the opposite end of the house, but still kept looking up occasionally at either Lydia or George.
So, Fred was going to be a father? His baby…. George watched Lydia blush from all the attention and smiled. She did say that he knew. 'At least he knew,' her voice echoed in her mind. She's going to have Fred's kid – so… She's going to keep it! Wow. Oh. Oh!
As more people began to arrive, and the house became crowded, the excitement about Lydia's announced pregnancy died down somewhat; still George was unable to find a moment alone with her to find out what she was going to do about the baby.
~x~
George had been thinking about Lydia and her baby all through the wake. Well, about Fred, the times they shared together and the stories he'd get to tell Fred's baby. The kid will never really believe all the stuff Fred and me pulled or all the stuff we got away with. I'll be able to tell him all kinds of bedtime stories. I'll make sure that he, or she, knows about her – or his dad. He'd caught Lydia's eye several times, but she either looked back at him annoyed or flustered. Charlie rarely left her side nor did his Mum. George had so many questions… so much he wanted to ask. The ones that kept popping up were; Is she going to keep it? Where's she going to live? Who's gonna take care of her now? When she gets big, will she be able to work? If she works – who's gonna take care of the baby…? His questions were endless and didn't stop plaguing him.
Only when Mrs. Weasley stated cooking did George think he'd have a chance to pull her aside. "Oi! Lydia, I wanted to talk with you…"
She looked up expectantly when he approached. "What do you want, George?"
George stared into her amber eyes and suddenly needed to be alone. "Can we talk for a minute?"
Lydia sighed. "Okay, a minute. What do you want?"
"Can we go somewhere to talk more privately?" George asked as he looked around the room quickly. Charlie's refilling drinks… Mum's in the kitchen… Ron's on the stairs…
Lydia tried to follow his gaze and looked up at him confused. "Like where?"
George chose the only place possible. "Let's go outside." He'd expected her to decline, but she nodded, rose from her chair and turned for the door. He followed her, plucking up the balls to swack the cockatrice head on. She led him out into the grass of the large garden. George watched her as she walked, trying to follow her gaze as she seemed to be looking around at the weeds in the flower beds and gnarled trees that stood along the walls, and then stopped next to an old apple tree next to a big, green frog pond. She stood staring at the surface of the water in the pond. "What's wrong, Lydia?"
Lydia turned on him, her usually soft eyes angry. "You just announced to your entire family that I'm pregnant!" she said with a wave of her hand in the direction of the house. "Your mum is already planning my baby shower, choosing my Healer, giving me a list of potions I need, and she's having your dad bring out the family crib and baby clothes! She wants to know if it's a girl or a boy, and Charlie keeps offering to check!" she crossed her arms, hugging herself.
"Blimey, it's not like I planned to say anything. It just came out…"
Lydia dropped her arms. "Well you did, didn't you? Your brother Charlie keeps trying to pull me aside and check the baby to make sure I – we didn't harm it – like he's my personal Healer now or something. And Ginny – she's still dancing about asking me over and over what I want to name it! I wasn't ready for all this!" She started pacing, looking a little frightened. "Your mum expects to help with the baby!"
"I was taken by surprise! You said it just before we Apparated, and it just hit me what you'd said as we came out," George said, although it sounded lame as soon as he'd said it. Lydia looked up at him, and he sighed. "I would've wanted the announcement to have been better planned. I would've let you do it if you'd wanted to, but it just – I went mental – all right? I'm sorry."
Lydia sighed heavily. "Me too. I wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. Well, not your entire family..." Her eyes swelled up with tears again. "I'd just told him, you know... just before…"
When? How long ago? "No, I didn't know," he said.
Lydia looked down at the grass under her toes. "Yes, in the bedroom before his Galleon vibrated... and he suddenly had to leave. He locked me in his bedroom, saying he'd be right back and never did." Lydia's tears slid down her cheek.
He wanted to wipe them away. "Fred didn't tell me – but I'm sure he wanted you safe from harm…"
"Obviously!" she said in a soft sneer. "You ran off to fight. Locked me up and ran off to defend the world. I – I suppose he forgot all about me in his big rush – he didn't bother to…." She turned head to avoid looking at him. "I could've – would've helped."
"But understand where he was coming from. If anything would've happened to you, it would've crushed him – just like it's crushing you right now."
She looked at him, her eyes narrowed slightly. "What's crushing me is that he'll never see our baby – his baby. And he didn't even have time to tell me if he was happy or not. He just stood there, staring at me, then pulled out his bloody money – and left! With my wand! He left me in the room – alone – without my wand! I don't even know if he was happy or angry or mad about – I…"
"Just the fact that he locked you away in the room and took your wand away tells me that he was happy," George tried to second-guess his brother. "It's what I'd have done – would've if you were – if I were him. Lydia, he cared enough about you to do that for you…"
"Happy?" she asked incredulously. "He didn't – he looked – angry! I don't even know if he even wanted the baby..."
George was surprised. "Of course he'd have wanted the baby! Lydia, I'm sure of that. If he looked anything other than pleased…" He shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. "Lydia, I have a Galleon just like his. It sends us messages, or we can send messages to each other and other friends. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger gave it to us when we joined a club. You remember Dumbledore's Army? You heard us talk about that, remember? Neville Longbottom used the coin to send us a warning – to call us to come fight. It read Vol attack Hogwarts. It was a signal we'd been waiting for."
She crossed her arms as if considering his words carefully and bit her lip the way she did when pondering something.
"If Fred didn't look happy, it was because Voldemort was attacking and the battle had begun. His look was more concern for what was going on around us. I'm sure if he had more time to talk with you, he would have told he was happy for both of you. So don't think he was mad at you," he explained.
He stared at her lip as she released her lip slowly and it quivered slightly. "Do you think so?" she asked placing her hand on her tummy. "He was happy?"
George smiled. "Trust me. Twins have this sense about them to feel each other's feelings. No one knew him like I did." He winked at her reassuringly. "So, can I see a smile?"
She sighed and mouth stretched into a small smile. "Sure."
He pulled her to him and hugged her. "Everything will be alright." She started crying again, and he looked at her, actually feeling her pain "I know. I miss Fred too." He tipped her head up and wiped away her tears. "Lydia, what are you going to do?"
She sighed. "I don't know... Richard is still in Egypt and my parents... Oh, my parents! They're going to kill me! Mary, she's gonna freak – I don't know... I'm still staying at my brother's with Mary until he gets back."
She hadn't told anyone yet but Fred. George smiled at her trepidation. And here I go and tell the whole family. "Let me help you."
"Help me? How?" she asked.
"I will be here for you and the baby. I want to help raise the baby with you," he said.
Lydia's eyes grew large in surprise. "What?! Are you daft!"
He chuckled. "Why? Fred was my brother and the father of your baby. It makes good sense."
Lydia opened her mouth to respond, and he tried to continue breathing, hoping she would say yes, just as Mrs. Weasley walked up on them. "Hey, you two. Get back inside. I've got the food ready. Lydia, it's frosty cold out here, come inside before you catch a cold. You cannot get sick – it wouldn't be good for my grandchild. George, you've better sense than bringing her out here. Come along now – come eat!"
Mrs. Weasley quickly ushered Lydia back to the house leaving George standing, wondering. Simply splendid! Circe, Mum, she was just about to tell me – 'Yes, sure, George, I really need you – or no, I can't impose… Gods! What if she says no? She can't… I'll have to… No, she'll come around. It's the best choice. Who else should raise Fred's kid other than me?
~ How To Woo A Witch ~
George spent the next two days trying to find time alone with Lydia. The problem was now that Mrs. Weasley knew about the baby she was rarely alone. Lydia's sister-in-law, Mary, had owled everyone in her family, and Lydia had gotten into a horrible row with her, so Mrs. Weasley had convinced Lydia to move into the Burrow until things settled down. Unfortunately, Lydia's parents didn't take the news of Lydia's pregnancy any better than her sister-in-law did, especially since she was having her dead boyfriend's baby and was unmarried. Then news came that Lydia was carrying twins, and her family became even more insistent that she not carry the twins to term, but allow them to be switched to surrogates. Lydia was adamant that she wanted to keep her babies, and her relationship with her family deteriorated to shouting. Lydia fled to the Burrow and the support of his family. Still, single, unwed mothers were not looked upon too favorably in wizarding society, and George really took Lydia's chastisement to heart. He could help her if only she'd let him.
One night at the Burrow, he was finally able to corner Lydia in Bill's room. "Lydia, really, it's the next best thing, right? Look, is it my ear?"
"No, it's not your ear," she replied, shaking her head. "You only want to because of the twins."
"No, I really want to," he persisted.
She backed away from him, walking over to the crib his parents had set up in the room. "I can't – it wouldn't be right," she said with a deep sigh.
"Who says? Look, I really like you, always have," he said.
She looked up at him and tilted her head, her hand rubbing the rail of the crib. "But you've never shown me any interest before?"
He plunged his hands into his pockets. "You were seeing my brother! What was I supposed to do?" he asked, hoping she'd see reason. "I'd have been a right prat to hit on you while you were a couple."
"And suddenly, now you love me so much you want to marry me?" she asked with mild indignation.
"Lydia, if you'd showed me any preference over my brother... if you'd asked me to help you with your spell work instead of Fred that night, sat on my bed in the hospital wing instead of his, or that night you twisted your ankle coming down the Astronomy tower and asked me to help you instead of Fred… these would be my kids."
Her expression turned to one of amused shock. "Oh, you think so? A bit self-assured are we?"
"Yes," he replied. "Look, I wanted to date you, but Fred and you got together so I backed off. But, if he'd dumped you, I would have asked you out."
"Really?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"Well, maybe," he said as he withdrew his hands from his pockets and held one out toward her. "But this is different."
"How's that?" she asked, looking at him as if he were nutters.
I've seen that look a hundred times before. "He's dead, so you'd be like a widow… only you weren't married. Lydia, you know that unwed mothers are frowned upon. I want to spare you that. I want to raise Fred's twins, yours and Fred's," he rambled the speech he'd practiced a dozen times in the mirror. Somehow, it didn't sound as convincing as when he'd said it in his loo. "I'd love these kids as if they were my own. Really."
"I have no doubt that you'd love my babies; my doubt is whether you love me – me. I'm half of this package, and when they go to Hogwarts, then what? What if we've made a mistake, and you and I aren't suited? Then what? I don't want to divorce… nor do I want a marriage of convenience."
"You were suited for Fred?" he retorted, hoping that she'd see his logic.
She obviously didn't. "That's different," she answered him.
"How?" he persisted. "No one could tell us apart growing up – not even my mum. And you – you were constantly confusing us for the other."
"You'd switch your names on me! Fred told me!" she exclaimed and tears welled up in her eyes.
Great. Don't make her cry, idiot! "Well, yeah, that was before you started showing us any interest," George tried to explain.
She lowered her gaze to the two stuffed teddy bears sitting in the crib. "I was interested in you since fourth year."
"See, you were interested in me, then," he said hopefully.
"You were not interested in me in fourth year, in fact you never showed interest in me at school," she pointed out. "I was even hoping you'd take me to the Yule Ball but you didn't."
"Yes, I was… Okay maybe I was a bit thick. I could've been. I didn't know," he stammered, and she looked at him incredulously. "Too many Bludgers to the head."
"You were never hit by a Bludger, you were too good," she replied, shaking her head.
"Thank you," he said with his most winning smile. "Marry me."
"No."
"Why are you making this so difficult?" he asked, walking over to her.
"I'm not, I'm being practical," she answered as he placed his hands lightly on her waist.
She didn't pull back or resist so he took a risk and pulled her closer to him. "Practical would be letting me raise these kids with you and marrying me."
"Not practical – convenient," she said with a sigh, not meeting his eyes.
"Then simply have dinner with me," he suggested, brushing a tear from her cheek.
She thought about it a while. "Okay, when?"
"Every night for the rest of your life," he replied, pulling her into a hug.
She didn't resist him, but her arms didn't move any further than his waist as he held her. "I'll think about it."
~x~
Lydia spent the week working in the back room, charming objects for the shop. She was finished charming the trick wands and playing cards that afternoon. So far she had spent most of her evenings with him, but frequently, dinners were at the Burrow rather than alone in his flat. Still, she was spending more time with him than without. But George wanted her to spend time in his flat with him, alone, so that he could flirt and tease with her easier and get her to realize that she could love him as much as he cared for her. That wasn't so easy to do in the shop with customers needing his attention or at the Burrow with his mum's constant presence.
So it was fortuitous when Hermione stopped by the shop to have lunch with Ron and while he was still busy packing up the last of the owl orders that had to go out that day. George took advantage of the situation and pulled her aside to ask Hermione's advice regarding Lydia. "Hermione, you're good with understanding girls," George asked. "Can I ask you something?"
Hermione looked at George, confused. "Sure."
George watched as Verity walked over to assist a group of giggling girls over by the Pigmy Puffs. "I want to marry Lydia," he said just getting to the point of the matter.
His seriousness must have caught her off guard. "Okay?" she asked, shrugging. "And the problem is?"
"She said no," he clarified for her.
"Oh," she said and bit her lip for a moment. "Did she say why?"
He took a deep breath and picked up a feather quill out of a bin of trick rubbers some customer misplaced. "She didn't want a marriage of convenience, and she said I only want to marry her because of the babies."
"Is that true?" she asked, eyeing the feather cautiously.
"NO! Okay, at first – yeah, sort of," he said, looking at her, the feather tip pointing at her chest. "I like her loads. I would've dated her if Fred hadn't first."
"But he dated her first, and she doesn't feel the same way for you that she did for him," Hermione summarized. "You're not Fred."
"I'm as good as," he argued.
"But you're not him – you're you. She sees the difference. You're his brother, her friend and boss. It's got to be a little weird to her to – um – switch brooms like that," she explained.
"Fred and I had the same brooms," he replied. "We switched brooms all the time."
"Yes, but it's like… Okay, it's like you wearing Fred's pants," Hermione replied, trying another comparison.
"Done that loads of times," he said. What does this have to do with trying to get Lydia to marry me?
Hermione held up her hands and grimaced. "Not a picture I really wanted in my head, thanks," she said with a laugh.
George suddenly caught on to his slip and blushed. "No, they'd be clean, Hermione!" he said, catching her innuendo. "Mum wouldn't fold anything, so we'd just divide and dump. Heck, even the house-elves got our stuff mixed up."
"Don't you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" she asked, laughing. "Ok, she kissed Fred. Obviously, she shagged him. Now, she's faced with the idea of being with you, and she's probably wondering if every time she kisses you, who will she be thinking about? You or Fred. And, if she shags you, will she wish she was with Fred or will she be happy it's with you? And if she starts anything with you, is she only with you because you're so like Fred in the first place? In a way you are very much like your brother, and if you two did get together, it might feel like she was just accepting a replacement look-alike for him."
"Oh. Oh… right," he stammered as he sorted out what she said in his mind. "Blimey, I didn't think on it that way. Thanks!"
"You have to convince her you are you and not Fred. And help her see the real you – your differences," she said, smiling as Ron appeared to take her to lunch.
"'Mione, I'm ready to go."
"Yeah, you go, have a good time. Hermione, thanks, I really appreciate it," George said, leaning against the counter looking at the quill still in his hand.
Hermione smiled encouragingly. "Anytime. Good luck."
George watched her leave, more confused than before they'd had their talk. Blimey, girls are complicated. He watched as three girls filled a shopping basket with Wonder Witch Products and even considered slipping Lydia one of his love potions. Nah, she'd hate me for it. I'll just have to woo her with my charming wit. I mean it's not like we aren't already friends. I'll just have to convince her I want more than friendship. I want a family.
~x~
George had been sweeping the front door as Verity and Lydia finished straightening up the sales bins and returning the misplaced items to their proper places. There were still six potions simmering in the back room to be added to the biscuits and candies used in the Skiving Snackboxes. He was going to ask Lydia to stay and help him, hoping she'd say yes. He really liked working after hours with her and knew that she did, too. He waited until both girls went to hang up their magenta robes before approaching Lydia. "Hey, do you have a moment?"
Lydia turned around. "Sure, what's up?" she asked.
"I wanted to know if you'll stay and help me with the Snackboxes?" he asked, hoping the excuse didn't sound lame.
"Doesn't Ron usually help you with those?" she asked, confused.
George shrugged, knowing that he'd given Ron the evening off with the excuse of revising for his Auror training exams next week. "He's not coming in tonight, exams. So I could use the help."
She shrugged and turned around to retrieve her robe. "I can if you like."
They started on the Canary Creams, which now came in six variations, each making the person who ate the cream turn into a canary of different colors, the most popular being yellow, red, green and blue hues, although lavender and orange sold fairly well. "Have you given any thought to where you'll live when the babies are born?" he asked, smearing the filling on the crisp biscuits.
"Your mum insists I stay at the Burrow," Lydia stated.
He watched her from the corner of his eye as she careful smeared the cream fillings. "Things aren't going well with your sister-in-law?"
She shook her head. "Mary's still nagging me about keeping Fred's babies. Richard came home over the weekend, and they had a discussion about me. It was like I wasn't even there. I'm nineteen for crying out loud – you'd think I was still a minor. Everyone wants to decide for me."
George took the tray she'd finished and began filling the boxes. "You are welcome to move in here."
"That's thoughtful of you. Seems I have several places I could live, your parents' place, my brother's, my friend Robin offered," she said, concentrating on the next set of creams. "Mum and Dad are still disappointed in me and aren't offering to help, but that's all right. I wouldn't want to move home and deal with Mum's and the twins' constant… Well, that's not an option."
"But what do you want?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant yet supportive at the same time.
"I like working here. I was saving up for a flat of my own, but that's been changed. I dunno. Either stay with your parents or my brother's place with Mary. Richard travels all the time, so it's just her and me…" She sighed heavily. "Mary and I get along, but she's so demanding and opinionated. She's smothering me all the time."
"Like my mum is, I suppose," he said with a grin. "Offer still stands. Move in with me. It's close to work, you won't have to Floo or Apparate, I'm a decent cook, even if I do say so myself, and you're not to far from your Healer here."
"You just want me to move in," she said, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.
"Look, the flat is right upstairs. You can keep the twins here in the back room while you work or up in the flat. I can rig something so that you can hear the babies if they cry or need you," he replied, stacking the ready boxes on the back counter. And yes, I want you here. We get along grand, don't you think?"
"People would get the wrong idea, me living with you," she said, sliding a completed tray of creams to his side of the workbench.
"Let them. It's the idea I'm hoping you'll get that matters anyway." He stopped and turned to face her. "Lydia, I really like you. Well, it would be premature to say I love you, but I do."
She blushed and turned away from him. "It just still feels weird, me seeing you."
She dropped her knife, and George pulled her into a hug. "It will be okay with me, you know. I know you like and respect me. We're good friends and all. Can't that be the basics of us getting married, being good friends? Who knows, you may even come to love me someday."
She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I already love you, just not like that," she said.
"That's a start," he said, kissing her temple.
"Oi, what's going on here?" Ron asked, standing in the doorway.
Lydia was the first to pull away, blushing profusely. "Ah, er, nothing. Just filling creams."
George had no idea that Ron had come into the shop or how long he'd been standing there. "I thought you wanted the night off?"
Ron looked angry. "You offered to let me have the night off, but I came in anyway. So, what's this, you moving in on Fred's girl?"
"It's not like that, and it's none of your business," George said defensively. Leave it to Ron to come in and spoil my plans.
"She's carrying Fred's twins," Ron said indignantly.
"I'm aware of that," George snapped back.
"You've asked her to move in with you," Ron said sounding accusingly judgmental.
"Yes, he has," Lydia stated. "So what?"
Ron looked at her aghast. "You're not married to him and you're not a couple," he said. "People will talk."
"So, what? It's not as if I didn't propose to her," George stated, wishing Ron would mind his own business. "Besides, it makes good sense."
"What does? Shacking up together?" Ron asked, crossing his arms.
"Us, Lydia and me. Me marrying her and raising Fred's kids," George said, hoping to get his baby brother to see reason.
"You're nutters!" Ron exclaimed.
"I love her," George stated. This was not how he wanted the evening to go. He wanted to convince Lydia to move in, not shout about it with Ron as if she weren't standing beside them. "It's what we were talking about, Ron. It's her…"
"Stop it – just stop it! It's not up to you, either of you! It's up to me!" Lydia pulled off her work robes and tossed them on the floor. "I have to decide what's going to be best for my twins and for me! If you're just going to fight over this – I'm leaving!" She stormed form the room in tears.
"Bugger, you are mental, Ron! How can you be so thick? Who else should raise Fred's kids? Do you really think it would be best if she raised them on her own? She's a single parent and only nineteen. I have a flat and a thriving business, and technically those kids are family – she's as good as family. So what is your problem?"
Ron's ears turned beet red. "I didn't see it that way."
"Well, I have! And I want to marry her," he responded angrily. "So if you're done making things even more difficult for Lydia, maybe you could start mixing the ingredients for the Whiz-Bangs!" He picked up the completed Snackboxes to stock the shelves. "Make yourself useful or go home."
~x~
George arrived outside the Burrow, flowers in hand to see Lydia. Actually the flowers were for his mum to soften her up after the ridiculous owl he'd received. Apparently, Ron had blabbed to everyone that George had proposed to Lydia and that she'd moved in with him. Mrs. Weasley put her foot down saying that the girl couldn't live with him as it wouldn't seem proper. He had no idea why it would seem improper for a pregnant, single girl to reside in his flat. Blimey, she'd have her own room! She used to stay with Fred and me loads of times. I mean, bloody horntails, it's not like I don't have good intentions!
Just before he opened the door, George heard Lydia's voice through the open window. "Charlie proposed to me, too. What is it with the males in your family?
Ginny's voice followed. "That's disgusting. He hardly knows you!" George leaned against the house, listening in and hoping that maybe Ginny would talk some sense into Lydia. At the least he'd know what the girls thought.
"Are all Fred's eligible brothers going to propose to me? Even Percy sent me an owl asking what he could do," Lydia asked.
"They are only trying to look out for you, dear," Mrs. Weasley stated.
"Ron is telling everyone that George is trying to pull Lydia," Ginny said and giggled. "So it may seem like all my brothers are trying to snag you. But I know Ron isn't. He still wants to marry Hermione."
George stifled a laugh. Good match, Ron. All you two do is fight and argue when you're speaking with each other. You'd be better off with Lavender Brown!
"Charlie doesn't think George is mature enough to be a dad," Ginny added, "but I'd have to disagree. I mean he could easily support you, and he does really like you."
"That's the problem, he likes me. I still think he's only doing this because of the babies," Lydia said. She sounded sad to George.
"Do you like him, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"He's my best friend and my boss. That's hard enough," Lydia said.
"Do you trust him?" Mrs. Weasley asked. George couldn't hear Lydia's response. "Do you respect him? He's been nice to you, hasn't he? Has he ever shown you any indication of what he may feel for you?"
George was frustrated; Lydia wasn't answering his mum's questions verbally, so he had no idea how she was responding.
"Do you like George?" Mrs. Weasley continued. "Do you think you could be happy with my son?"
He wished that he could turn into a fly or a beetle and sit up on the windowsill to watch the girls inside.
"I think that's what you should be thinking about: what would make you happy. Either way, know that Arthur and I will be happy to have you stay here until you work things out. However long you need."
George decided it was time to face the girls. He opened the door smiling as if he'd not heard a word spoken and hoped it disguised the concern he felt. "Hi, Mum, Gin. How are you, Lydia?"
"The same I was fifteen minutes ago in the shop," Lydia said with a chuckle.
"Well, you never know, one of my daft brothers may have made some lame blunder and upset you. I know Ron has been a prat lately." He handed the flowers to Mrs. Weasley. "Apologies for being a daft prick myself," he said. "So, did you change your mind and want to marry me?"
Lydia shook her head, but at least she was smiling. "No, I haven't."
"Well, I'll wear you down eventually," he said, grinning. "I mean how can you resist my magnetic charm and good looks?"
Ginny pulled on George's arm and leaned in close to his good ear. "You were listening, weren't you?"
"I heard a little," he admitted.
Ginny gave his arm a playful shove, then pulled him back down to her. "If anyone should raise Fred's twins, it should be you, not Charlie. She'll come around. You've just need to keep reassuring her, that's all."
~x~
It had been nearly three months since George's grand announcement to the entire family about Lydia's babies, and he had used that time to try and convince her that he wanted to marry her for her. At least he and Lydia were spending their evenings together, either in the shop or at the Burrow, and she'd even agreed to go out with him on dates. However, she was reluctant to go up into his flat. He started bringing her bouquets of flowers entwined with ivy: roses, carnations, daffodils, stargazer lilies and sunflowers knowing that water avens would only remind her of Fred. He was thankful to Ginny when she handed him a list of flowers and their meanings so he wasn't sending the wrong messages.
Charlie had returned to Romania, but he still sent regular owls to Lydia and made it quite clear in each letter that he'd still marry her. He even sent her forget-me-nots. It made George laugh. Lydia's brother was starting to be more supportive, but Mary was now pregnant herself, and Lydia didn't really want to add her burdens in the house, knowing that she was having twins. Two newborns would be enough of a handful, but the idea of three in one house was making Mary anxious. George couldn't have been happier about the news and regularly suggested baby names, usually ones that rhymed. Still his biggest concern was Lydia's parents.
Lydia had agreed to let George fly her to her parents' home for dinner, mostly because she didn't like facing them on her own. Her mum was cordial enough, but her father pulled George aside and had the 'talk' about intentions, responsibilities and commitments. In the end, the best part of the dinner had been the pudding and the flight back to the shop. It was also the first night Lydia had stepped into the flat since the battle at Hogwarts.
They were on the floor, leaning against the couch, legs stretched out, sitting on a fur rug by the Floo and sipping on grape juice. "I'm really sorry about my dad; he's usually a really nice guy."
"Well, he definitely got the right impression, I think," George stated, moving his arm to rest on the couch behind Lydia's head. "I do still want you to marry me." He started to play with her hair, enjoying the soft texture between his fingers.
She sighed and leaned into him. "I know you do. I'm beginning to think it may not be a bad idea."
"Really?" he asked, trying to control his grin.
"Well, don't look so smug about it," she chided him. "You've hardly given me any time to myself, and you've been the most persistent suitor I think a girl could ever have."
He set his glass down and then took hers. "You know I really do care for you. You. Not just because of the twins." He tipped her head gently to place a gentle kiss on her lips. She usually pulled back when he tried to kiss her, but this time she didn't, encouraging him on and even placing her hand on his chest so she could lean in closer to him. It was all the indication he needed. His arms went around her and their kiss deepened. He wasn't going to push her, not tonight, but he'd wanted this tenderness from her, and he was going to savor every minute. The log in the Floo crackled as it split in two, but neither George or Lydia cared.
"I think you should stay here tonight," he said softly as their kiss ended. "I mean, I'd really like you to stay."
She smiled and nodded. George helped her to her feet, holding her hand as they walked over to the bedrooms. She looked at Fred's door with an expression of longing sadness, and he pulled her into his arms. "If I'm going to do this, I think I would prefer your room," she said softly, hugging him back.
"Sure, I can sleep in Fred's room if you like," he replied, looking down at her.
"No, with you. I'm not really ready for anything physical, yet, but would you mind just holding me?" she asked, uncertainty in her voice.
"I'd like that," he replied, pushing open his door. "I even bought a bigger bed, just in case, for when I finally convinced you."
"How presumptuous of you," she said back, following him into his room.
"I like to think of it as prepared."
~~~~x~~~~
Author's Notes:
Flower meanings:
Carnation: My heart aches for you, admiration.
Daffodils: regard, unrequited love, you're the only one, the sun is always shining when I'm with you
Ivy: wedded love, fidelity, friendship, and affection
Sunflowers: warmth, adoration, sunshine and longevity
Forget-Me-Not: faithful love, undying hope, memory, do not forget
Thanks to my beta, Southern_Witch_69, who spent so much time and patience cleaning up all my mistakes and errors. Southern_Witch_69, you're the greatest. How did I ever get so lucky?