Alright folks, this chapter is where the plot really starts to get rolling. I'd covet your thoughts.

Chapter Three

"We need to go to the Hospital Wing," Minerva said, slinking up beside Hermione.

The younger witch rolled her eyes. Minerva had been avoiding her all morning, and she really didn't appreciate being given an order as a greeting. "Hi honey, how has your day been going?"

"This isn't funny, Mrs. McGonagall," Minerva grumbled. "All couples who handfast are required to. Some fuss about the ceremony being stressful on the magical core. My status as Headmistress doesn't give me a free pass, and it would be rather odd if I showed up and you didn't."

Hermione sighed. "Fine then. Outing ourselves to Poppy should be entertaining, at least. Merlin love the woman, but she seems to be under the impression that I'm a symbol of virtue for the whole of the wizarding world. As if."

"Clearly," Minerva agreed. "Let's go."

The two walked quickly toward the Hospital Wing, and as soon as they had entered and Minerva had scanned the room to ensure nobody but Poppy was there, she nodded at Hermione to go ahead and ward the doors. The last thing either of them wanted was news of their new marriage to be public knowledge, at least for the time being. That much they agreed on. Hermione hadn't even worked up the nerve to tell Harry, Ron, or George yet.

"Headmistress. Miss Granger," Poppy greeted calmly. "What can I do for you two?"

Hermione decided to beat Minerva to the punch before her new wife tried beating around the bush. "We are here to submit to a handfast physical."

The Hogwarts Matron looked perplexed, so clearly Hermione hadn't been blunt enough. Poppy pointed to each of them in turn, before opening her mouth to speak. "Both of you, as in…"

"Yes…" Minerva groaned. "Could we skip the part where you give us a speech about being responsible?"

Poppy bristled. "I expect irresponsible behaviour on Beltane. It's par for the course. But from you, Minerva? And you, Hermione? Of anybody, you two would be the last people I'd have expected… and to go off and do the most irresponsible thing together…"

"Clearly we're not skipping the speech," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"You're both meant to be examples!"

"Poppy, we are both human beings," Minerva tried. "Human beings, evidently, who are attracted to one another and the summary of Gryffindor impulsiveness."

"Having Pomona playing matchmaker may have been a contributing factor," Hermione hedged.

"She did what?" Minerva yelped.

"You really think I'd have let you… you know … if Pomona hadn't effectively told me to go for it?" Hermione asked, hands on her hips. "She's your best friend, Minerva! If she was giving the green light so far as your state of mind, then I was going to trust that. To top it off, your brother was the one who performed the handfast! You've got everyone in your corner. If anyone has a right to feel taken advantage of right now, it's me!"

"Well, do you?" Minerva asked, eyebrow raised. "Feel taken advantage of?"

"Not in the slightest, so I don't know why you're being such a child about this!"

"Well this marriage is getting off to a splendid start," Poppy remarked. "Minerva, come over here and sit down. I need to check your core. Of course, when you throw a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin into the mix, your predicament does make a certain sense. One wonders if they coordinated their efforts."

"I'll murder them both if they did," Minerva huffed, but did as she was told. "Talk to George if you feel you have to tell someone what's going on, but for the sake of my sanity, until I'm able to sort things out in my head, please refrain from telling Potter and the younger Mister Weasley."

"Well that tells me you're at least remembering some of what we talked about last night," Hermione muttered. "Do you remember what I told you about why George and I got so close this year?"

The older woman's gaze met hers, and she offered a sympathetic look. "I won't force you, but I do think you should tell Poppy. That… event will have damaged your core. There are treatments for that, but Poppy can't help you if she doesn't know. I'm surprised George hasn't brought it up."

Hermione shifted her feet. "He has, actually. I've just been blowing it off. Does it really matter that much?"

"It does," Minerva nodded.

"Anyone want to start acting like I can hear you talking and please fill me in?" Poppy inquired.

Hermione let out a heavy sigh. "I went eight years not telling a soul about him, and now I'm telling a third person in the space of a day. I'm starting to think my secret is about to come out good and proper."

"I'm not entirely sure why you felt it needed to be a secret in the first place," Minerva frowned. "And who did you tell last night other than me?"

"Robert, right before the handfast." Hermione replied. "The connection was similar. I thought he'd understand why I felt so sure about you."

"Still listening…" Poppy ground out. "And Minerva, you're healthier today than you were yesterday. Hermione's core must pack a hell of a punch for you to have gotten that much of a boost. Irresponsibility completely aside, I commend your choice in life partner. Hermione, your turn."

Hermione traded places with Minerva. "I had a twin brother," she admitted to Poppy. "He died when we were eight. That's what we were talking about. As I've been told, that's medically relevant in the magical world."

Poppy gasped, almost dropping her wand. "Sweet Merlin, girl, you've been separated from your twin for… almost twelve years, with no treatment… and your magical core is still that strong? And you haven't bloody imploded?"

"I don't understand," Hermione said, looking concerned.

The mediwitch groaned. "Alright, you're muggleborn. You understand basic electricity, yes?"

"Of course."

"Let's say that magic is electricity and your core is the wire it runs along," Poppy began. "With twins, the pair can join their wires together to create a stronger current, and run more magic through it. Nifty trick."

"Yes. Still not understanding why the death of a twin would impact the other magically or medically," Hermione posed.

"Twins, by nature, bind together in moments of stress. It's instinct and unavoidable. Death, by definition, is stress on a set of twins. This means that when one twin dies, the pair entwine their magic, and then one is ripped from life violently. This causes the remaining twin's magical core to be left with the equivalent of a stripped wire."

"Well that's not ideal," Hermione admitted.

"Every use of magic after that is like plugging that wire into a wall," Poppy added, matter of factly, "and hoping like hell that it doesn't rain."

"Okay, so that's really bad." She understood now. The analogy had gotten its point across. She was, in effect, a ticking time bomb without treatment. She'd burn her magic out if she wasn't careful. Hermione had been nothing short of lucky thus far.

"I can start you on a potions regime to restore your core, for the most part," Poppy said, looking reassuring. "You'll likely end up with a boost in power at the end of the process. You've been running on a faulty core for years. You may want to consider putting a stall on your NEWTs until after you've completed them. They take eight weeks to get through, but you're going to need some time after that to go over spells at your new power levels. I would seriously consider ceasing all use of magic until you take the potions. Every spell is a risk that it'll be the last spell you ever cast."

"I'll kill George for not telling me how serious this is," Hermione muttered.

"Don't be too hard on him," the mediwitch said. "Normally, it's not. In the wizarding world, it doesn't get serious unless you go more than a year after the loss of your twin. The risks are negligible until that point. Nobody in the wizarding world is idiotic enough to wait because they've heard horror stories of those who did wait too long, but it's been so long since anyone did, that unless you're a trained medical professional, you don't really know what going wrong implies. All George likely ever heard was something like 'it can damage your magic if you don't get the proper treatment', or something like that."

"That is basically what he said," Hermione allowed. "I was listening to the might part of the sentence more than the damage part, to be honest. That said, why is my examination taking twice as long as Minerva's?"

"I was sort of wondering the same thing," Minerva admitted.

"Hermione, did you engage in intercourse with anyone other than Minerva last night?" Poppy suddenly asked, frowning at the results of her scans.

Hermione blushed. "Um, yes. One other person, prior to what happened with Minerva."

The older witch let out a haughty breath. "Did you seduce this person as well, Miss Granger?" Minerva inquired. "Or were they at least aware of their actions?"

"Hey!" Hermione snapped, annoyed at her new wife for reverting to her formal addressment. "I recall quite clearly, Minerva, that it was you who kissed me first, and you who suggested we handfast, thanks so much. So that's enough out of you about who seduced whom. As for who I was with prior to you that night, he was perfectly willing and we were both still fairly sober at that point. Back to Poppy, I repeat, why do you ask?"

The Mediwitch flicked her wand a few more times. "Dare I ask who he was?"

"What does it bloody matter?" Hermione asked, choking up a little. "To start with, even when we opted to do what we did, we both agreed it was to be a one off for a variety of perfectly sensible reasons, and even if we had been interested in pursuing something further, the point is moot given he was among the casualties during the attack."

After she and Minerva had parted ways this morning, she had gone to find Harry and Ron right away. She'd thought to talk to them about what happened last night, to her, but the first thing out of Harry's mouth had been to inform her that Draco Malfoy had been among the lives lost. For once, he'd not been making fun of the other young man. Neither he nor Ron had been taking joy in Draco's demise. All three of them had appreciated Draco's actions at the end of the war, and there had come to be a truce between the four of them this last year at Hogwarts. There was no room for friendship between them - that much was understood - but the truce was respected and therefore the loss was felt by all of them. Lucius, Draco's father, had also been among the casualties. His death, the four of them celebrated over butterbeers in the Gryffindor common room; Lucius having been among the attackers the night before. Some of the rumours suggested that Draco had killed Lucius, and some that Lucius killed Draco. One way or another, they were both gone.

Minerva frowned. "I find it rather concerning that you're dodging the question, Hermione."

"Calling me by my name is not going to make me more inclined to share."

"Will informing you that you are carrying his child inspire you?" Poppy inquired softly.

All three women were silent as the news sank in. Hermione's heart thundered under the implications. She was magically bound to Minerva McGonagall, and yet, evidently, she was pregnant with the sole heir to the Malfoy line. "Fuck," she finally breathed out. "Bloody well fuck."

Minerva spoke first. "Well that's one question answered, Hermione. We did briefly talk about having children. Looks like we're having one. Legally speaking even if the father you are so hesitant to name were still living, I'd still have priority as your spouse."

Hermione sat up. "Are you telling me, in all seriousness, you don't have a problem raising a child that is not biologically yours?"

"For the love of Merlin, Hermione, I was Head of Gryffindor House for how many years?" Minerva said, rolling her eyes. "I've been raising other people's children for as long as I can remember. At least this one I can give a good swat to when they're being naughty without worrying about the Board taking issue."

"No matter who the father was?" Hermione pressed. "No matter how you felt about him?"

Minerva narrowed her eyes, and Hermione waited. She'd been studying Minerva McGonagall for years now, and knew every expression well. The brunette didn't have to tell her wife who the father of her child was. There was only one man killed last night, who was present at the Beltane festivities, who Minerva very much disliked but Hermione had made her post war peace with, as it were. Finally, Minerva closed her eyes and let out a ragged breath. "If this child sorts to Slytherin, I'm sure Robert will be thrilled," she finally said. "So yes, Hermione, even if you have deplorable taste and actually slept with Draco Malfoy."

Hermione snorted. "There was no sleeping. A quick shag in the street with privacy wards. That was the extent of it. But yes, it was Draco."

Poppy plopped on the bed beside her. "So, next question. Considering the fact that Lucius always insisted on his personal Mediwizard attending to Draco when he was injured or needing care, and Abraxas was much the same, I have very minimal records concerning the Malfoy medical history. If you want any sort of that information on the father's side of the family, I'm going to have to tell Narcissa she's to be a grandmother. Yes or no?"

Minerva shook her head. "I agree she needs to be told, Poppy, but I think that's something we need to do. What do you think, Hermione?"

"I am not prepared to go back to Malfoy Manor," Hermione admitted, fear creeping into her voice. "If I'm honest, I'm not really sure I'm ready to face Narcissa, either. I know I'll need to eventually, but it's too soon."

"Do you object to me taking care of it, then?" she asked.

"I'd practically swoon if you would," Hermione said honestly. "Although my sense of pride doesn't want to outright ask you."

The older witch moved closer, and pressed a kiss to Hermione's temple. "As you keep reminding me, you're my wife. I'm supposed to take care of you and so forth. At this point dinner is probably over… I'm just going to head over to Malfoy Manor now. Get yourself something to eat and then head back to our quarters. I had one of the House Elves move some of your things over earlier."

"Our quarters? Moving my things?" Hermione smiled brightly. "You've changed your tune, McGonagall."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "I've had some time to adjust to the notion, dear. Password is Beltane. I thought it would be appropriate. I'll see you in a few hours. Poppy, good evening."

With that, Minerva was out the door, leaving Hermione alone with the Hogwarts matron. "Well," Hermione said with a sigh, "life with her is going to be interesting."

"Robert dosed her with Animus Mico, didn't he?" Poppy asked.

Hermione nodded, seeing no reason to lie. "How did you know?"

"The potion all but breaks down in a person's system fairly quickly. Everything except for the Felix. That part is active for at least twenty-four hours, given that the potion requires a whole vial. The Felix showed up in her scan. I could see no reason why she'd have taken Liquid Luck on the night of Beltane, and I knew Robert had been by for a visit. It's somewhat legendary how he's been trying to get her hitched for ages. You mentioned he'd done the handfasting, and that he'd agree to perform it all but confirmed that he'd dosed her. He'd never have agreed to bind his sister in a marriage while she was visibly inebriated unless it was he who had caused her apparent inebriation."

"He wasn't entirely sure about the idea until I told him that I knew I was her match just as much as she knew I was hers," Hermione admitted.

Poppy nodded in understanding. "Because you're a twin, you can sense signatures just as much as she could on the Animus Mico. I have to admit, Hermione, that while I was sceptical at first, filling in the details leaves me confident that you two are going to have a wonderful life together. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," she smiled. "Now we just have to get the rest of the world to understand. We hardly make a conventional match."

The matron shrugged. "The worst of it will probably come from the Pureblood circles, and you're carrying the Malfoy heir. I'm pretty sure you've got it covered if Minerva can get Narcissa to back you."

"Do you think she can?"

Poppy laughed. "Didn't you know? What Minerva wants, Minerva generally gets."

"She does, doesn't she?" Hermione agreed.

"That said, Hermione," Poppy said, sobering. "This pregnancy presents you with a bit of a dilemma. The potions required to stabilise your magical core, due to the loss of your brother, cannot be taken while you are pregnant. It would cause a miscarriage. Either you will have to knowingly terminate the pregnancy and deliberately end the Malfoy line, or wait to take the potion until after you deliver. If you have any sense and wish to continue the pregnancy, you won't cast a single spell between now and when you give birth."

Hermione drew in a sharp breath. Short of something causing her to miscarry naturally, she knew she couldn't have an abortion. It just wasn't in her nature. She valued life far too much for that sort of thing. However, living two months over the summer without magic was a far cry from going forty long weeks without it. Could she really manage that long? Would Minerva support her decision to do so? Further, this all but sank any hope of taking her NEWTs with her classmates in another month, and she couldn't help how much it smarted to think that she wouldn't graduate because her own irresponsibility had gotten her pregnant. Hermione almost thanked Merlin her parents weren't here to see her now.

Minerva would rather be pretty much anywhere but at the gates of Malfoy Manor. However, as the saying went, she had fish to fry. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she pressed her hand to the gate to alert the Lady of the Manor to her presence. A moment later, a House Elf appeared. "Lady Narcissa is grieving. She is not being disturbed."

"This cannot wait," she calmly replied. "Tell her that there may yet be hope for the Malfoy line."

A few moments later, the gate swung wide, and after striding confidently the distance of the walkway, she was greeted at the large wooden door by Narcissa. "Minerva McGonagall," the elegant woman greeted. "Hope for the Malfoy line? That's an odd sort of message coming from the likes of you. I recall you trying to kill both my husband and my father-in-law at various points."

"Believe me, I know," Minerva admitted. "May I come in?"

"Certainly," Narcissa replied, stepping aside. "Now, I do consider myself to be fairly intelligent, so let me start with some deductive reasoning. Last night was Beltane; a height of wizarding fertility. So either my husband raped and impregnated someone last night, or my son had a lusty encounter that resulted in a conception. What I don't understand is how on earth you could have found out about either of these things so quickly, and why you wouldn't be anxious to terminate said pregnancy in whichever case. You have no love for the Malfoy family."

Minerva appreciated Narcissa's intelligence, and her ability to at least put that much of the puzzle together. Still, she knew Slytherins and she wasn't about to give Narcissa everything at once. She needed to know what the other woman would do with the information as it was given to her. "It was Draco," she confided. "He had a brief encounter with a young woman with whom he shared an attraction, but no real romantic interest. Neither of them had a desire for it to go further than that night, as I understand the situation. I can't speak for Draco, but the woman was merely seeking connection anywhere until she could find the one connection that was right for her."

Narcissa shrugged. "Fair enough. So what? You're here on behalf of this young woman to barter for the Malfoy money? Is that it? To ensure she is provided for, as is her child, as befits her as the mother of the Malfoy heir?"

Minerva snorted. "Hardly. The child will be well provided for with or without your support, Narcissa. Mostly, I'm here for medical records, as Lucius and Abraxas were both loath to provide them to Hogwarts, and in order to ensure this child's health, we need to know Draco's medical history. Beyond that, as this child's grandmother, you had a right to know."

The other woman stared at Minerva. "Why aren't you telling me her name?"

The Scottish witch stood up straight. "Because a few hours after her encounter with Draco, she handfasted with me, and I'd prefer to know your intentions regarding this child and their mother before I set you loose on my wife."

Narcissa looked well and truly dumbfounded, even going so far as needing to sit down on a nearby sofa. "Bloody hell," she finally breathed out. "Will you even allow me to be a part of this child's life?"

"Provided you respect my and my wife's parenting decisions, I don't see why not, although I will have to confirm that with her before committing to it," Minerva replied. "She's tenderhearted so I'm inclined to think she'd not keep you away from your grandchild, but at the same time, there's more than one reason she's not here tonight."

The other woman looked up sharply, and Minerva knew immediately she'd said too much. "Hermione Granger?" she whispered in question.

Minerva paused for a moment, then nodded in confirmation.

"Merlin!" Narcissa groaned. "What was Draco thinking?"

"Why? Because she's Muggleborn?" Minerva asked scathingly.

"Yes and no," the other witch said dismissively. "More because of his and her respective roles in the war. Imagine, Minerva, if he had lived and she not handfasted with you. What then? Draco would have been expected to marry Hermione Granger after having gotten her with child. Setting aside the political disaster that would have been, they are entirely unsuited, and clearly both knew that perfectly well, and yet were both idiotic enough not to utilize contraceptives during bloody Beltane!"

Minerva sat beside Narcissa. "I may agree that the scenario you mention would have been a nightmare, but it is not the scenario we face. I am sorry for the loss of your son, truly. I may not have liked Draco very much, but I know what it is to lose someone, and I'd not wish that on anyone. That being said, Hermione is carrying his child. It is my intention to raise that child. I'll not hold their parentage against him or her, and I hope you'll not resent who is raising your grandchild."

The blonde woman smiled a little. "That I'm even going to have a grandchild is a miracle. How could I resent anything about it?"

"So medical records…"

"I'll have them Owled to Poppy first thing in the morning," Narcissa agreed. "And Minerva?"

"Yes?" she said, standing to leave.

"Tell your wife that I'll burn Malfoy Manor to the ground if that's what it takes to begin building trust," the other woman said honestly. "I just want a chance to have a relationship with my grandchild."

"Knowing Hermione, she'll make it harder on you than that," Minerva smirked.

"What on earth could she possibly want me to do?" Narcissa huffed.

"If I was a betting witch, I'd say she'd want you to work things out with Andromeda," the Headmistress said, thinking about how she now understood why Hermione took sibling relationships so seriously. When one took the early loss of her brother into context, it was easy to see why she'd hate to see siblings taking each other for granted. Hermione had always hated when the Weasley siblings were squabbling, and it all made perfect sense now. She'd have given anything to have Nicolas there to squabble with, or to say she was sorry to.

"Sure, and I'll raise the Founders of Hogwarts from the grave while I'm at it," Narcissa baulked. "That's impossible. She couldn't possibly ask that of me."

"Maybe she will, maybe she won't," Minerva shrugged. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Hermione Flooed George at his flat from the Hospital Wing with Poppy's permission. She would rather have just apparated over to see him, but that option was out given her inability to use magic. Poppy had promised privacy, which was good, because before she headed back to what was now going to be her and Minerva's quarters, she wanted a chance to fill George in on everything. She needed to talk to Minerva later about what she was going to tell the girls in her dorm about why the hell she wasn't sleeping there anymore, but that could wait at least one more night. Let Ginny and the others gossip. They were good at that.

"George, can you pop through for a little bit?" she called.

"Can you, love?" he countered. "I'm having a late dinner here."

"Bring it with you," she said. "I'm not allowed. Poppy's orders. You were right about the twin thing, and so I'm not allowed to use any magic, at all, until I start the potions. That includes going through the Floo. I have to be escorted."

George guffawed. "Alright, give me a minute."

Hermione pulled back from the fireplace, and waited. A few beats later, the fireplace lit up and her friend came through with his plate in hand, and he plopped on a nearby bed so he could comfortably eat and talk to her. "I'd have figured you'd have started the potions already and been fine," he muttered.

"Evidently you can't take them if you're pregnant," she deadpanned.

His fork froze midair. "You're fucking with me."

"So not," she said. "Last night was evidently very productive. Not only did I get myself pregnant, but I also got myself handfasted."

His fork dropped to the floor. "Hermione!"

"And the father of my child is not even the same person I handfasted to," she rounded off.

George put his plate on the bed beside him, and rubbed his face. "Okay, well, fuck. Merlin, Hermione, when you go wild you don't screw around, now do you?"

"I may never drink again," she joked. "That said, while this pregnancy is far from ideal, I'm really not regretting the handfast. That… I'm happy about that, even if she's still adjusting to the notion. Her head was a bit fuzzy the morning after, although in my defence, the handfast was her idea."

"Stop beating around the bush, 'Mione," George teased. "Start dropping names. Who knocked you up, and who'd you marry?"

"Draco Malfoy got me pregnant," she began.

"Oof," the red-head breathed. "Then he bit it in the battle. That complicates matters a bit."

"It does," Hermione agreed. "Minerva's talking to Narcissa about things now."

"Minerva…?" George sputtered. "McGonagall? Since when do you call McGonagall by her given name?"

"Since she started leering at my arse last night," Hermione grinned, "and then about half hour later talked me into handfasting with her."

Hermione didn't think she'd ever seen George Weasley get so wide eyed. She'd certainly never seen him at a loss for words before, but there he was, dumbstruck for a full minute before he let out a long breath. "You handfasted with the Headmistress of Hogwarts?" he let out.

She nodded slowly. "Effective last night at about ten-thirty, I'm Hermione McGonagall, courtesy of her brother Robert, who acted as our bonder, with a little help from Pomona Sprout, who shuffled a tipsy Minerva off on me, suggesting that it would do Minerva good to get laid, and making a pointed remark about how I should look out because she was pretty sure Minerva was about to try to seduce me."

George let out a loud laugh. "Sprout set you up? That's fantastic!"

"Not sure she intended for us to get married," Hermione mused, "however I do think I'll send her a thank you note later."

"So, how is McGonagall handling things?" George asked, picking his dinner back up.

"She seems to be slowly getting back her memory of last evening, which is helping," Hermione admitted. "When we first woke up she tried calling me Miss Granger. That was a laugh and a half. There we were naked in bed and she's addressing me as a bloody student…"

"Yeah, I had a similar reaction during my fling with Remus," George admitted. "We wake up and the bugger is all Mister Weasley, and I just looked at him and asked if it looked like we were in class to him."

"I'm sorry it didn't work out with him," Hermione said, frowning as she remembered that whole mess. It had been during the time when Dora Tonks had been pursuing Remus relentlessly, but he'd not yet given in. George and Remus had been together, secretly, for about three months and then had a fight about what a future would look like for them, and the next thing George knew Remus was publicly seeing Dora, and avoiding George like the plague. They'd not spoken again until the night of the battle, only hours before Remus, Dora, Fred, and so many others, would die. They'd had a chance to make their peace, thankfully, but it still hurt George to think of the older man, and Hermione thought that George would likely look out for Teddy Lupin for the rest of his life, even if the little boy never understood why. Severus Snape had Lily Potter. George Weasley had Remus Lupin. All Hermione could hope was that George never became as bitter and lonely as Severus had.

George shrugged. "Wasn't meant to be. I don't begrudge him wanting to find something more… normal. He'd only ever known life as an outcast. It was bad enough being a werewolf. Being a gay werewolf was just one step too far for him."

Hermione sighed. "Meanwhile, I'll be the brightest witch of her age who doesn't graduate with her class twice in a row."

He groaned, clearly remembering her earlier comment about not being able to take the potion while pregnant. "Oh, 'Mione. Fuck."

George put his food down again, moved over to her bed, and held her in his arms as she cried. For a little while, Hermione felt safe, loved, protected, and something resembling whole. It was a different feeling than when she was with Minerva. Her connection with George wasn't romantic in the slightest - she'd been honest with her wife about that. However, she and George Weasley had both lost a vital part of themselves, and when they were together that brokenness seemed to feel less like a gaping, festering wound, and more like an old scar. As she felt his heartbeat, steady against her ear, Hermione wondered if there was a way to connect her and George more permanently, so that they didn't have to be in physical contact to feel this safe. She wondered if there was a way to artificially make them into each others' missing twins.

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