Sorry this is such a short chapter. There are some REALLY long ones though, so it kinda evens out...
I flopped heavily onto my bed, kicking my shoes off. I didn't bother to notice the fact that several candles in the room were lit. I sat up and began to unbutton my shirt, leaving my hair piled loosely atop my head.
"You look so beautiful," George whispered from the dimly lit area with the chairs.
My head jerked up at the sound of his voice, and I smiled, feeling my pulse begin to race.
"You're not exactly anything bad to look at yourself," I replied, as he stood up and walked over to me, catching my lips with his. I smiled against his lips, and set my hands on his firm chest. "So, Mr. Weasley, how long are you going to keep staying nights in my hotel room with me?" I inquired, looking up into his eyes.
"I'm not sure," he replied thoughtfully.
"I spoke with Dumbledore today," I said quietly, looking up into George's eyes. He nodded, and I smiled. "He said that we could floo into his office tomorrow afternoon around four and speak to the girls there. He even offered to be conveniently out of the office while we were using it," I informed George.
"That sound fabulous. You can floo from here to my shop tomorrow at about three forty and then we'll be up there at about four," he said, as he leaned in to kiss me.
"George, what am I going to say?" I asked, and his eyes hardened.
"I suppose you could try the truth," he said coolly.
"Yes, I suppose that's best," I sighed, dropping my forehead against his chest.
"Annabelle, if you expect me to make this any easier for you, you've got another thing coming," he told me in a firm tone.
"I know that, George," I returned coolly. "I'm not stupid."
"Of course you're not stupid, you weren't in Ravenclaw for nothing," he said softly. "Sometimes you're just so naïve. Despite everything you've been through, you still have this unusual innocence that makes me feel a need to be explicit about everything."
I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew he was right. I knew it.
"George," I said quietly. "I know you're right…I just…everybody gets so upset with me for what I did, but have you ever thought about what you did to make me think I had to do what I did?" I asked quietly, lifting my face to look at him.
He stared at me blankly.
"Did it ever occur to you that made if you hadn't been so verbal about not ever wanting to get married, and never wanted to have kids, I wouldn't have run away?" I asked softly. He was clearly processing this. "Did you ever think about the fact that all I had ever really planned to do was play professional Quidditch after Hogwarts? Or the fact that I wasn't the kind of person who would not have the baby? That my first chocie was of course to have you be involved in raising the girls, because it meant that I would actually get to sleep occasionally, or that I might not have had to spend every single second of my life trying to take care of two babies while earning a living? Have you stopped to think about the impact that this has had on the girls and their development?" There were tears in my eyes.
"Anna, if you had just told me," he said quietly.
"I know that now!" I shouted, squeezing my eyes shut.
"Yes, love, I know that I'm not the only victim," he said quietly, pulling me tightly to his chest. "I know that, I've thought about that, I realize that. I, however, am the only one who knew nothing."
I nodded against his chest.
"It seems like you didn't want me to be involved," George told me gently.
I started crying.
"George, I wanted you there the whole time!" I choked out. "Ask my parents, ask Paul! At the hospital, all I wanted was for you to be there, but I couldn't very well tell my mom to get you! I needed you the whole time! Why didn't you come after me!" I demanded, pounding a fist on his chest.
"Oh, Annabelle, sweetie, love, don't cry," he murmured, rocking me gently. I pulled him to me as tightly as I could. His arms were like iron bands wrapped around me, holding me to him tighter than I could have ever hoped for.
"Love me," I whispered, shivering into him. "Please, just don't stop loving me," I begged, my wet cheek pressed against the firm muscle of his chest.
"Never," he promised, kissing the top of my head. "I couldn't even when I wanted to."
He sank to the floor, cradling me in his arms, and holding me tightly. I continued to hold him.