Rhia awoke with a start. It was still dark out and her stomach felt full. She ran to the bathroom, barely getting there in time. My bladder must be the size of a corn kernel, she thought dismally. Didn't the doctor say something about the baby sitting on my bladder? Oh great, what a fun time this is turning out to be. George was sitting up on his elbows when she returned to the bed. "Are you all right, love?"

She silently nodded but then realised that except for the faint fairy lights that remained, the room was dark.

"Fine. Cheers." She climbed into the bed alongside him, snuggling under the covers next to his warm body. George lay back down as she shimmied close, contouring her body back into his and he rested one hand on her hip. He smiled when he touched the bare skin showing. She was wearing her usual nightshirt, and thin cotton knickers on her bum. Funny how something so unsexy still managed to get him all hot and bothered. He enjoyed this new closeness in bed; a few days ago they'd moved their relationship in this new direction. His fingers slid across her warm skin, gliding along her thigh. She twitched at his first touch, his fingers both rough and soft at the same time on skin that was so much more sensitive since she became pregnant. He began smoothing his hand slowly from her hip to her knee and then she felt one finger flit behind her thigh and his hand slip between her legs. She tried to muffle her sigh, but even as she bit her lip, she couldn't contain the sound escaping her throat. He smiled, nipping at her ear with his teeth and kissing her neck, letting his tongue drag along her nape. He moved her knickers aside with his thumb and used his two longest fingers to press onward.

"Oh." She moaned out as she deliberately pushed back against his firmness, and George couldn't help but smile again, enjoying her reactions to his touch. His fingers were slick with her desire for him, and he so wanted to taste her. He began to salivate thinking about bringing his hand up, but instead tried to separate her legs with his knee. He paused when he felt her become tense.

"George, please," she breathed out.

"I'm trying," he laughed.

"No, please wait. I need…we…we need to talk; about my family." She was panting now, and despite her words and her hands gently pushing him away, he could feel how truly disappointed she was. He reached his other hand into her hair, coiling and tangling in its coarseness. He raked his fingers through several times before she said quietly, "You're distracting me."

"I know," he whispered in her ear, thrusting once more with his already dripping fingers while at the same time nibbling her neck yet again.

"Please," she gasped, her head falling against him, with an almost involuntarily shudder. "George, I really need to tell you now." His own heart began beating wildly in his chest. She finally trusted him enough to tell him everything. He took a deep breath, and reluctantly stopped all of his movements, even removing his hand from her knickers, letting it rest placidly on her hip once more. She took a deep breath, letting the words out slowly.

"My mam, she threw me out because… George, I'm pregnant. That's why she chucked me out."

He kissed her ear with a smile and surprised her by plunging his fingers back inside, saying quietly, "I know."

"You know? What do you mean you know?" Rhia turned toward him, unsettling his hand. She gave him an annoyed look when she saw him grinning at her in the dimly lit room.

"I'm not a complete idiot. You throw up every morning. You're always tired. You eat half what I eat and you're still gaining weight. I spoke to Hermione about your symptoms. I was worried about you. She set me straight."

"She what? When did she tell you that?"

"Hmm. I don't know. Last week sometime. She gave me a book for you. I have it in my bedside table." He began to reach around behind him, but Rhia grabbed his reaching hand, and brought it up to her lips.

"No worries. I can read it later." George smiled at her, kissing her lips, and moving his hand onto the inside of her thigh, stroking her, his fingers becoming moist and sticky once more as her words caught in her throat.

"George, there's more." His hand retreated again, resting his wet fingers on her knickers.

"Rhia, honestly, what else could there be?"

She ran a finger along his cheek, and when she rubbed it across his lips, he kissed the tip. Her face was very close to his, and when she said the three words, he could feel them on his skin. "You're the dad."

He was quiet for a moment, and then he leaned into her, his lips meeting hers. Her eyes closed, and she felt warm when his fingers caressed the front of her neck. "I'm so glad. I was certainly hoping it was me."

"Are you telling me it didn't matter?"

George shrugged. "Maybe a bit, but not enough." He kissed her nose and her cheek and she almost didn't notice that he was pulling her knickers aside one more time.

She put her hands in his hair as she kissed him, bearing down against him. When their lips finally separated, she looked at his shadowy face, and spoke softly, "There's more."

She managed to pin his hand, so he couldn't move it, and he was flustered as he released a heavy breath in frustration. "Blimey, Rhiannon, isn't that enough? You're pregnant. I'm the father. What more is there now? Really, love, what is it?" He sounded bothered, but Rhia could still see that he was smiling and she smiled in return. She didn't respond for a longer time now, and George was becoming increasingly exasperated. "Well?" he asked, trying not to sound as impatient as he was feeling.

"It might be twins."

After a brief moment of stunned silence, he began to laugh. It was contagious, and soon they were both laughing until they were crying, holding each other in the dark and shaking with laughter. When the hilarity subsided, he moved into her and, pulling her closer still, holding her tightly, he kissed her deeply, licking her tongue, biting her lip, teasing her.

"I haven't run away screaming yet, have I?" He smiled gently at her. "I'm not going anywhere. We're all going to be fine. Brilliant, in fact. I don't care if it's two or ten babies in there; we are all going to be just fine." He placed his free hand on her stomach, putting delicate pressure on the small swell just beginning to show. It would definitely be a better day, she thought, but then George spoke up with a grin, "I've told you before. I can't resist a two for one special."

When the new bout of laughter settled down, George caressed her neck with his lips, and slowly slipped his hands under her nightshirt, easily lifting it over her head, and then climbing on her, and with one hand, pinning her arms to the bed over her head, delighting in her breasts with his nose. "Now, love, is there anything else I need to know about you or may I remove your knickers now?"

"Please," she breathed into his hair, kissing him there as he continued his exploration of her.

* *

Rhia woke up first, and smiled, finding George's hand on her stomach. She felt safe and warm and loved. She turned to face George, his face close to hers on the one pillow. He continued to sleep, snoring softly. She wriggled closer to him and leaned her head on his chest, keeping quiet, not wanting these quiet moments to end. She felt relieved, like a weight had been lifted from her. In telling him her secret, now their shared secret, she felt lighter than air. She listened to his heartbeat and pressed a kiss to his bare chest, feeling wonder that she could just be happy for this moment.

George's arms began reaching around her, soft hands caressing her back. His lips brushed against her temple and then he slowly made his way down to her lips, kissing her ear, her eye and her cheek on the way. When it begged entrance, she let his tongue make its way inside her mouth, licking her lips and gently separating them to let him in. She could feel the smile on his lips when she bit his tongue, and she smiled again when he moaned into her mouth. Her hands were in his hair and spiralling circles in his ear as his hands roamed to the front of her, touching her bare breasts unencumbered by the clothes of last night. His mouth moved to her neck and then down, closing his lips over the nearest breast, chewing lightly on her nipple, causing Rhia to tilt her head back, liberating a noisy moan. George wrapped his arms around Rhia and climbed on her. She draped her leg over his, moving her hips up to meet his. He lifted his head from her breasts, capturing her mouth once more. Unexpectedly, Rhia pulled away, "George," she breathed out, panting, trying to control her breathing. "We can't."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. I'm sure you can."

"No, stop, cariad," she said, pushing lightly on his chest. He slowed his advances, and watched her as she looked around, asking, "What's the time?"

He reluctantly turned to his clock. "Half-six. Appointment?" He nuzzled her neck when he turned back, but she pulled away. He frowned as she rose from the bed, pulling her nightshirt over her head, and watched in disappointment as it glided over her body, hiding it from his sight.

"Actually, the memorial's at nine." She leaned down and kissed him. "I need to get in the shower. It wouldn't look good if I were late." She took one step, but was pulled back when George wouldn't release her hand. "George, really –"

"When can we tell my parents?" George asked without warning.

"What?" Rhia seemed stunned by his question, becoming slightly unnerved. "What do you mean?"

"I'd like my parents to know about our baby. I'd like to tell them. When will we know if it is twins?"

"I…I go back to the doctor in three weeks."

"That's the Muggle doctor. Can't we go to a healer? Hey – your friend, Ian. Can we see him?"

George looked so eager, and Rhia hated the idea of disappointing him again, but the idea of telling his parents truly frightened her; she couldn't imagine what their reaction might be. "George, can't we –"

She stopped and George spoke before looking at her, "Can't we what?" He looked up at her now, seeing the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked and when she started to shake and cry, he repeated himself. "Rhia, what's wrong?"

"I don't want you…I don't want them…angry with you…because of me."

He bound from the bed, embracing her, stroking her back and gently kissing her cheek. "Rhiannon, my parents won't be angry. I promise you. They'll be happy, thrilled in fact."

"You have no idea, George," she whispered desperately. "When my mam found out, it was horrible; just dreadful. She slapped me, and she screamed at me and she…called me terrible names." Her voice was stilted and becoming weaker as she held the memory of her mother screaming at her in her head. She didn't know which was worse – her mam's outcry or her brother, Gruffydd, silently agreeing with her, not defending his sister when she needed him the most. She laid her cheek against George's chest and as George continued to hold her as close to him as he could, she was surprised that her tears did not flow freely.

He kissed her forehead and continued stroking her hair. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. I wish I'd been there for you, but honestly, Rhia, my parents will not react like that. Can I tell you how it will be at my house?" She nodded mutely, not looking at him. "First, we'll tell Mum about you, and she'll be speechless, but only for a second. Mum's never quiet for long. Next, we'll tell her that I'm the dad, and she'll be disappointed in me. She'll say, 'Oh, George,' and that we should have waited, but it was a stressful time, so she'll understand — she'll come round. Then she'll ask when we're getting married, and we'll change the subject and tell her we're having twins, and she'll say, 'Oh George' again. Oh, and she'll hug you," he laughed.

"George, it cannot possibly be that simple. They'll be cross with me for leading you astray."

"Don't be daft. Fred led me astray long ago. They're going to love you, and if we never get married, you'll still be the mother of their grandchildren." He kissed her head again. "Trust me on this. I know my parents." He bent down and kissed her cheek again and Rhia watched him enter the bathroom for his shower. She smiled sadly; she had thought she knew her mam as well.

She busied herself with domestic chores waiting for George to finish. She made the bed, and folded the afghan, placing it over the footboard. She poured out two bowls of muesli, but only put milk on hers, warming it with her wand. She set the kettle for tea and used the floo to contact Ian. When George returned from the shower, he sat on his bed, and he grinned at her when he caught her staring at him again. She smiled. His hair was just as vivid wet as when it was dry. She loved his bright ginger hair. She ran her palm across her stomach – she hoped the babies had his colouring. Her hair was red, but it was so dark, it was almost auburn instead of a true ginger colour. She stared at him as he tied his shoes. He broadened his grin at her when he caught her eye the second time.

"Breakfast," she called to him. "Muesli," she answered before he could ask. He sat at the worktop. "I'm sorry," she continued. "I was starved. I couldn't wait for you to finish. I also flooed Ian." George looked up keenly with milk and muesli dribbling down his chin. She reached over with her napkin, wiping it away. They both laughed, and she went on. "He can see us this afternoon, at half one. Can you get away from the shop?"

He nodded. "I'll talk to the owner. He and I get on well." He finished his breakfast as she stepped into the bathroom for her shower, and when she emerged fully dressed, she smoothed her dress down over her stomach, trying not to be self-conscious.

"Can you fix my tie?" George asked, putting his bowl in the sink with hers. Rhia turned to face him, and she adjusted his tie with a laugh.

"A bit overdressed for the shop, don't you think?"

His eyes narrowed. "Shop's closed, Rhia." He took her hands from his tie. "You didn't think I'd let you go to your father's memorial alone, did you?"

She observed him, surprised yet again at how caring he was, so grateful she couldn't express it. She finished working on his tie. "You know, you don't have to –"

"I know." He pulled her close so their cheeks could touch, and pulling a rectangular parcel from his dress robes, he kissed her softly and whispered, "Happy Birthday."

She looked into his eyes with more surprise in her own, and bit her lip, thinking she might begin to cry and took the parcel from his hand. It was covered in magenta paper and tied with a piece of twine that held a single daffodil. "Thank you. Thank you for remembering." She followed him to the sofa and sat beside him. She opened the paper carefully, revealing a book, The Witch in the Wardrobe. She turned it over in her hand, seeing the half-naked witch on the cover peering out of a wardrobe while a wizard sat up on his bed. He also appeared to be half-dressed. She looked at George.

"Now, Rhia, can I tell you the best part about that book?"

"George, you wouldn't dare."

"The best part –"

"George –"

"- is that I've never read this one. It's new."

"Really?" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck, kissing his face all over. "Really? You won't ruin it?"

"Auror's honour."

"Thank you George."

"There's more."

"More?" she laughed, kissing his cheek. He handed her a small box, which she tore open eagerly. There was a round locket inside, silver with a cloisonné of a daffodil bouquet.

"It's lovely, George – just beautiful. Thank you." She kissed him again as he placed it over her head, letting it bounce off her chest.

"I've put my picture in there, well, because you should never be without me," he winked, and then added, "but after this morning, I expect you'll want to replace it with the babies once they're born."

"What a good idea." She paused, admiring her gifts again. She placed the book inside her bag. When he raised an eyebrow at that, she responded, "So you can't peek at the end. We should go," she said, laughing. He agreed and they disapparated together.

As they appeared in the Ministry Atrium, Rhia swayed, grabbing onto George's arm to steady herself. "Are you all right?"

She slowly nodded, releasing his arm to prove it. "Just a bit dizzy; a little nauseous. I'm better now."

They both spent a moment looking around the large open space, with the centre now filled with chairs, most labelled with names. Around the perimeter hung banners depicting the many ministry workers who died in the second war against Voldemort. One year ago today was only the beginning of that war. Was it really only one year since the beginning? Things were starting to get better: people were moving on with their lives. Rhia and George were proof of that with their babies that would come in the new year.

Rhia looked at George's face as she looked around and took his hand, leading him left. She easily found her father's banner on that side of the room. She could see a small group crowded near it, which didn't surprise her. Her father still had many fans from his Quidditch days. Rhia tugged on George's hand, and they began to make their way over there. As the other wizards filed past, Rhia stood there looking at the larger than life depiction of her father's head and shoulders, his bright smile showing off the laugh lines around his eyes, his red hair just beginning to thin and change to the silvery hue he'd died with. George leaned his head down to whisper in her ear, "Are you better? Do you want me to leave you alone?"

She shook her head slowly, not taking her eyes from her father's face, tears starting to stream down her cheeks. George put a comforting arm around her shoulder, placing a compassionate kiss in her hair.

"Rhiannon," a voice called from behind.

Rhia took a deep breath and clinging tighter to George's hand, she turned around, letting a slight smile rest across her lips. "Mam, sut wyt ti?"

"Eitha da. A chithau?"

"Da iawn."

"I'm so glad you're here." Marared Jones spoke with tears in her eyes and in two strides, she was embracing her youngest daughter. George was so shocked that he released his hold on Rhia and could see her shaking with her own sobbing. Rhia's two brothers exchanged surprised looks, mouths agape. Her sister stood by in silence. When her mother ended their embrace, she turned to George with a warm smile, but spoke to Rhia. "Is this the boy you've been seeing?"

"Sorry?" Rhia asked breathily.

"Dy cariad? Your boyfriend?"

Rhia stared in disbelief at her mother, thinking that the world had finally gone mad. George hastily thrust his hand out to Mrs. Jones. "Good morning. I'm George Weasley. It's lovely to meet you."

She grasped his hand with a smile. "Are you sitting with us, Rhiannon? I've missed your company."

"No, Mam. We have different seats."

"We'll talk after, then." As she strode away, Gruffydd and Catrin followed, but Rhia detained her brother Celyn.

"What was that?"

Celyn looked from Rhia to George and back again. "I honestly don't know. Mam hasn't been herself lately." He squeezed his sister's hand and followed the rest of their family.

The service was two hours long, and mentioned all of the dead by name. The Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, presided over the service. He was an eloquent speaker, but except for his words about her father, Rhia spent much of the service lost in thought. Her mother's behaviour baffled her. She could see that it even took her brothers by surprise. She had never been a soft, fluffy woman, but even if you ignored the fact that she had violently thrown Rhia out of the house, you would have thought she'd have been harsher. It didn't seem like a public show, but Rhia supposed it could have been simple politeness out of respect for her father. Rhia hadn't noticed that the service had ended or that the attendees had begun to leave their seats until George touched her knee, and then her hand, putting increasing pressure there until Rhia turned to him.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"What was that with my mother?"

George chuckled. "I have no idea. I expected…a, well, I expected a different reception. Does she know?"

"Does she know what?"

"That I'm…you know…that it's my –"

"No. Could we not talk about this here?" Rhia smiled and George waved at his parents as they walked by.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

They made their way back over to her father's banner, so Rhia could say goodbye to Cadwaladr Jones. George stood off to the side when Rhia's family returned; this time accompanied by another woman and a few children, all boys.

"Rhiannon," a stern voice stated. "What are you doing here?"

Rhia raised her eyes slowly, unsure of the tone. "Mam?"

"Of course. I asked you what you're doing here. Who is this man?" She nodded curtly towards George.

Rhia stared at her mother, confused by the change that had come over her, and remained silent, but George extended his hand, speaking, "I'm George Weasley. We met earlier."

She grasped George's hand. "I don't believe we have. I'm Rhiannon's mother."

He glanced at Rhia quickly, but spoke politely to her mother. "Lovely to know you."

She turned back to Rhia. "Y baban?"

"Mae'r y baban yb dda; yn dda iawn."

"Is this the man you live with now? Is he?" she said loudly before Rhia could answer. She grabbed Rhia's wrist, pulling her closer, twisting it. "Have you been to your father's vault? At Gringotts. It's empty," she said suddenly.

"Sorry?"

"You heard me - your father's vault?"

"It was my vault, Mam. Daddy left it for me. There were only five galleons there," she whispered.

"There was more than that. 150 galleons in fact."

"No, Mam. Only five and that's all I took."

"Celwyddwraig! I want it back." Rhia pulled her arm back, but her mother wouldn't release her, continuing, "That's not true. It was 150 galleons. I want it returned," she shouted, squeezing Rhia's wrist tightly.

"Let go," Rhia cried out, tears beginning to spill. "You're hurting me."

"Mam," Celyn said quietly, but was ignored even when he reached a hand out to his mother.

George interjected, putting out a hand towards Rhia. "I'll pay the money."

"No!" Rhia shouted and continued, "I don't owe any money."

"Rhia, it's all right," George said gently, touching her shoulder.

"It's not all right!" she cried. "She's taken everything from me. She can't have my last five galleons!"

A man's voice boomed. "Marared! Digon!" Rhia's mother opened her hand suddenly, freeing Rhia from her hold, and she fell backwards into George, who caught her, keeping her upright and steady. The man continued to address Rhia's mother. "Do you think he would want this for his daughter? You embarrass yourself and his memory."

Mrs. Jones took her eyes from him and looked at her daughter again.

"Celwyddwr! Maeden!" she spat at her. Rhia blinked as tears escaped, stunned. George didn't understand the words, but her tone left him speechless as he kept his hand on Rhia's shaking back, watching her mother skulk away angrily. They were approached by the man, taller than George by a couple of inches.

"Rhiannon," he said gently. He touched her shoulder with a light touch, but she flinched, blinking back tears. "Wyt ti da?"

She nodded, still saying nothing.

He continued, pulling her into his arms. "Anything you need, Rhiannon. You are my brother's daughter – a Jones. Your mother can't change that. You owl me for anything, and that includes your new family; y baban a dy cyfaill. Dim, Rhiannon." He kissed her forehead, and with a glance at his brother's banner, he stepped away. George reached for Rhia, but she was already running away towards the floos. She disappeared into the green flames before he could catch up.

George spent almost an hour wandering around the Ministry, searching for Rhia. He was hoping she'd return, so he left a message at the entrance of the Atrium, and used a sticking charm to leave a note on a bit of parchment on her dad's old office in case she went up there. He had just apparated into St. Mungo's waiting area. He checked with the welcome witch, but Rhia hadn't spoken to her. He sat in an empty chair, and ran his fingers through his hair, resting his face in the palms of his hands. He hoped Rhia would come for her appointment with the healer, but he didn't hold out hope. She hadn't wanted to come here in the first place, preferring the anonymity of the Muggle doctor.

George sensed someone sit down beside him, but he kept his eyes closed, ignoring the bustling sounds around him. An arm threaded through his, taking one hand from his face and entwining their fingers together. His eyes popped open at her first touch.

"Rhia," he said his voice cracking slightly. He reached his other arm around her neck, wrenching her into an embrace, kissing the back of her neck. He breathed in the smell of her hair and whispered into her neck, "I'm so sorry." He laid his forehead against hers and put a hand on her cheek. "You'll never have to go through that again. I promise you that." He pulled her face to him and kissed her with tiny, delicate kisses across her lips each one becoming progressively longer until they had blocked out the waiting area, the sound of the other one's breathing in their ears. "I will never let that happen again."

"Rhiannon Jones." They stared at each other a moment more, and then the assistant Healer repeated herself. "Rhiannon Jones?"

"Are you ready?" George whispered. She nodded silently, numbly. They stood together and as he kept his hand on her back, he guided her towards the open door, following the assistant healer. She directed Rhia to an exam table, and asked her to change into a hospital robe. George went into the room's toilet to give Rhia some privacy, and remained in there until she asked him to return. Rhia looked around the room. This room was vastly different from the Muggle doctor's office. The pictures on the walls were moving. Healers helping patients, patients thanking Healers. When she noticed one picture of a mother nursing her baby, Rhia smiled, and when George stepped out of the bathroom to check on her, she pointed to it, and he grinned. She was glad that he was happy about the baby. Things could have actually been much worse for her. She watched him wander around the room looking at the various items. He seemed much less nervous than she was. It wasn't long before Healer MacIntyre knocked and entered the room.

"Hey stranger," Ian said, smiling as he entered the exam room. He hugged her tightly. "I've missed you. How have you been?"

"I've been better."

"Are you ill? Is that why you're here?"

"No. I'm not ill. You won't tell anyone why I'm here, will you?"

"Of course not. Completely confidential. Let's get started." She nodded solemnly, and Ian turned to George. "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, I'll need to ask you to leave now."

"Sorry?" he asked, rising from his chair.

"We're having an exam – you can't stay during the exam."

"But –"

"No, Ian," Rhia stated firmly. "George stays."

"Rhia –"

"Ian," she said in a quiet voice, taking his hand, smiling and looking into her friend's eyes. "I'm pregnant." Ian's eyes widened, and Rhia continued, "That's why Mam threw me out, and, Ian, no one else knows this, but George is the father, and we're here together to find out…well, to find out what we need to know."

Ian looked shocked for a moment, but then his expression changed. "Okay, then," Ian said. "George stays. How do you know that you're pregnant?"

"I took a Muggle test, and I've been seeing a Muggle doctor since June."

"A Muggle doctor? Are you mad?"

"She's a lovely woman; a bit dotty, but she's been lovely."

He shook his head in disbelief.

"Lie down," he directed. He brought over a small black box on a wheeled cart. Ian inserted his wand into a space at the end of a coiled wire that was also attached to the box. Ian said the spell and began to wave his wand over Rhia's torso beginning at the top of her breasts, and following down over her stomach, finally stopping just above her knees. The black box was humming and when it beeped, Ian took up his wand again and held it steadily over her stomach, and when the box beeped one more time, he disconnected his wand from the coil. "Sit up. Let's listen to your heartbeat." He placed his stethoscope on Rhia's chest, nodding his head. "Sounds good. Lay down again." He placed his wand over Rhia's uterus, just below her stomach. He said two words that George and Rhia did not recognise, and the room suddenly filled with the sound of a beating heart. Rhia had heard it before in the Muggle doctor's office, and she looked expectantly at George, a smile on her face.

It was George's first time in this position. He held Rhia's hand and was a little uneasy as Ian was poking and prodding her. When Ian placed the wand on her stomach, and the room filled with a drum like sound and then when Rhia's eyes found his, he knew that he was hearing the heartbeat of his first child. Rum, bum, bum. Rum, bum, bum. His face hurt from the broadness of his smile. His eyes were lit up in delight. Rhia extracted her hand from his and surprised George by brushing away a tear on his cheek with her thumb. He directed his smile at her, and took her hand again. Ian removed his wand and the room became quiet once more. George could still hear it echoing in his head and he stood up as Ian was reading the papers now spewing out of the black box. He stunned Rhia when he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, lingering longer than they'd both expected.

"Well, Rhia," Ian interrupted their intimacy. "Everything looks great. You are 11 ½ weeks pregnant, which makes your due date 6 February."

"Six February?" George interrupted. "That's my Dad's birthday."

Ian continued, "Good, strong heartbeat. I'll have a picture in a moment." Ian paused looking from Rhia to George. He seemed anxious. "I'm not sure how to put this." George's smile vanished at Ian's tone.

"Is something wrong?" George asked.

"No. There's absolutely nothing wrong. Um, it's just –"

"Twins, isn't it?" George asked, smiling again, a slight smugness in his voice.

"Yes. They're twins." George laughed at Ian's discomfort. "Do they run in your family?"

"I'm a twin. I had an identical brother." He gave Rhia a sad smile.

"Can you tell the sex, Ian?" Rhia asked eagerly.

"Actually, I can't. They're on top of one another, and they're sideways. They're uncooperative; like their parents." He laughed. "Here's the picture."

Rhia held the paper and George stood to look, placing his head very close to hers. George jabbed his finger into the paper. "Look, two heads, and they're hugging!"

Rhia smiled, relishing in George's obvious glee. He laid a hand over her stomach and pressed a hug to his tiny twins inside their mum, and then he kissed her again.

"Rhia. I'm sorry," Ian said, "but since you're here, we should change your medical files."

"Change them? Why?"

"Well…um…well, Rhia, your…your parents are listed as your emergency contacts and next of kin. Is that still accurate?"

Rhia and George both looked at him. "You know it's not. Not anymore. I guess –"

She faltered, looking at George, who was nodding his head fervently.

"I guess put George down for both of those – emergency contact and next of kin, and put his parents down to contact about the babies, but not until next week. We're telling them tonight."

"Can you spell their name?"

"Yes, it's Weasley. W-E-A-S-L-E-Y. His parents can be reached at The Burrow, is that right?" George nodded and Rhia continued, "George and I can be reached in Diagon Alley – number 93."

"I'll change your address as well. You can get dressed while I update this."

When Rhia disappeared into the bathroom, George took Ian aside. "She's all right? And the babies?"

"Everything's great. Try to keep stress to a minimum, make sure she sleeps enough, eats enough. She's eating for three."

"Listen, you're her friend?"

"Yeah, we grew up together. We were best friends."

"What does celwyddwr and maeden mean? Her mother said that to her. It got quite nasty at the memorial."

"I don't speak Welsh, but I do know the first word – it's liar. I don't know the second one."

George's face clouded over, and he looked at Ian with disgust for Rhia's mum. Rhia emerged and George brightened, taking her in his arms. He had taken her aback with another demonstrative hug and he kissed her keenly. "Marry me."

"Sorry? George, you don't need to –"

"No, I don't. I want to. I'll be a good husband and a great father."

Rhia touched his face. "George, I'm not marrying you just because we're having a baby together." He looked disappointed, but smiled when she added, "but I'll let you take me to dinner."

"You know, we're having dinner with my parents tonight."

"Then take me out tomorrow night."

"It's a date," he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

"Oi Rhia," Ian called over, "can I speak to you…privately?"

"Of course."

"I'm sorry, but we can't list George as next of kin – he's not a blood relative and you're not married. I've put him down as emergency contact and as your primary decision maker. Is there another family member I can list as next of kin?"

She shook her head sadly. "Leave my Dad then."

"I can't, Rhia, he's dead."

"Yes, you can. Put my Dad's name with my Uncle Rhodri's address. Do I have any restrictions?"

"No caffeine, you can apparate, but limit it, cover your face when you floo. You're pregnant, not incapacitated."

"Excellent. I'm starved," she noticed aloud. "George, is it almost tea?"

He glanced at his watch laughing. "Yeah, in two hours."
"Can we go early; have a snack perhaps?"

"We can go early, but we'll tell them first. Agreed?"

She nodded, threading her arm through his, but dropped it to hug Ian. "Cheers, Ian."

"Come back in four weeks, yeah?"

She nodded and she and George left arm in arm.

* *

George stepped through the gate to the Burrow, but stumbled when Rhia stopped. She was clutching his hand and when he turned to face her, George saw how pale she was and thought she would start to cry. He put his arms around her back and felt her arms go around his waist as they pulled each other closer. He kissed the top of her head and whispered into her sweet smelling hair, "Trust me. It's going to be fine."

He drew his head back to look at her and he tilted her head up, feeling sad when he looked at her tears and the worry she had behind her eyes. "You'll see. It will be excellent. Can I tell you something else?" She nodded. "This is your home now. This is your family. Whether or not you ever marry me, those babies make you a Weasley, and Weasley's take care of family." She looked beyond him at his childhood home. She hugged him tightly and her tears wouldn't stop, but she knew he was right. She was home, she could feel it; and George made her safe and made everything well again. "Better?"

She nodded. "Much." He turned towards the Burrow again, but she stopped him. "You make me better, George. I feel safe when I'm with you."

"We should go," George said. "I'm starving."

Rhia laughed at him, and they were laughing as they entered the bright Weasley kitchen. It was empty. The dishes were being done, and the wireless was on in the sitting room. "Where is everyone? Mum," George called. "Where are you?"

"Georgie," she exclaimed, scurrying down the stairs. "What are you doing here so early?" She hugged him closely.

"We were starving, so we came home early."

"Oh George," she laughed, patting his shoulder. "Arthur," she called upstairs. "George is here early, come down. Rhia, how do you feel? Last time you were quite peaky. Better now?" Rhia nodded, but Molly hardly noticed. "You look much better. Your colour's very good." She put her hand to Rhia's cheek. "George, will you peel the potatoes? You can help start the stew."

"Mum," George interrupted. "Mum, hang on, we wanted to speak to you – you and Dad."

"Arthur," Molly called up the stairs again. "Come down."

When Arthur reached the bottom step, he was wiping his eyes and putting his glasses back on. "Are you all right, Dad?"

"Fine. We were just looking at your baby pictures."

George bit his lip and looked away. "Dad –"

"George, start peeling potatoes," his mum interrupted, directing him to the bowl of potatoes.

"Mum," he said firmly. "I'll peel in a minute. We need to talk to you and Dad. It's important." Molly turned to face her son, drying her hands on her apron. Arthur sat down and took Molly's hand, directing her into the chair at the head of the table, and George and Rhia took up seats across from them.

"Is everything all right, George?" his father asked gravely.

"Yes. You know that Rhia is having some bother with her family. Well, she can't go to them." Molly reached out and covered Rhia's hand with her own, startling Rhia, who looked up and into George's mother's eyes. She and her son both had brown eyes, and then Rhia heard George's voice speaking again. "Mum, Dad, Rhia's pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Molly asked. Arthur remained silent continuing to watch his son while Molly's eyes remained on Rhia's. "That's wonderful, Rhia. Congratulations."

"Cheers," Rhia answered quietly.

Molly continued, "Anything that you need, dear, anything that we can help you with, you just ask." Rhia smiled at her, feeling warmed by Molly's hand on hers.

George continued to look directly at his father. "Mum, Dad… Rhia's pregnant…and I'm the father."

Rhia held her breath. She could feel Molly's fingers faintly tighten on her hand, and Rhia's lip was quivering. George quickly took her other hand in his.

"George," Molly spoke quietly. "Oh George."

His father spoke now for the first time. "You're going to be a dad," he said quietly.

"Yeah. It's brilliant."

"When?" his father asked gently, smiling at his son and the woman next to him.

"Your birthday, Dad. The sixth of February or around there – the baby chooses the day."

"That's wonderful Georgie. Have you seen a Healer yet?" his mum asked, looking back to Rhia.

"Yes," Rhia responded quickly. "This afternoon. I had been seeing a Muggle doctor in London, but we went to St. Mungo's today after the memorial service."

"George," Arthur said, thoughtfully. "Are you sure about the dates?"

George looked his father squarely in the eyes, knowing he would need to admit to something he wasn't entirely proud of, but his father was no idiot. He could do the math. "I'm a bit embarrassed, but there's no reason to dance around it – we all know how Rhia became pregnant." He felt all eyes on him, but at least he only had to explain it once. "We met at Hogwarts, during the battle, and met again after the battle, right after Fred…after Fred was gone. I couldn't stay in the Great Hall afterwards; I felt like I was suffocating in there, and I was hurt as well, and Rhia healed me. I had a huge gash on my neck and chest. Right after that, we…well, we all know what we did. We met again at the café a couple of months later and her family had thrown her out of the house…because of the baby. She's only just told me this morning."

Molly squeezed Rhia's hand and tsked. "You've had to deal with this all alone? You poor thing." She then looked at her son. "When are you getting married?"

George looked at Rhia and smirked as they exchanged a glance. She couldn't help but return his smile. This was going exactly how he had predicted it would.

"Mum, we're not getting married; at least not yet."

"George, what do you mean? A baby needs a stable home and two parents –"

"Yes, and we'll still be two parents. We're not talking about marriage yet. Honestly, mum…you heard how we met…we barely know each other."

"George, you're having a baby together! Where will the baby live if you're not married?"

"Oh," George said enthusiastically. "We've solved that problem." All eyes were on him yet again. When he was sure that he had his mum's full attention, he continued, "we're having twins, so we'll each get one and then at the end of the year, we'll trade." Molly's mouth opened in wonder with her son's cavalier tone, and Rhia shook her head, closing her eyes.

"You're not serious?" his mum asked.

"Twins?" Arthur asked.

George nodded his head excitedly. "Twins! It's brilliant, isn't it?" He was grinning broadly, like a cat.

Molly released Rhia's hand suddenly. Rhia held her breath again, waiting. She knew they'd been too lucky; George had been too flippant. She clung to his hand tightly. She knew that the shouting was about to begin, but Rhia was mistaken. Molly jumped up and grabbed Rhia by the shoulders, and hugged her strongly until she could hardly breathe.

"Why do you put up with that man? Congratulations Rhia. Married or not, welcome to the family!" She kissed her cheek, and hugged her son next. Then it was Arthur's turn, and while George peeled potatoes, Rhia sliced the carrots. George looked at Rhia every few minutes, noticing her laugh, the lines in the corners of her eyes when she smiled, her dark eyes shining in the kitchen light. Arthur went up to get the picture album, and while the stew stewed, and they waited for the others to arrive, they looked at baby pictures of George and Fred, the whole time wondering what these new Weasley twins would look like; what they would be like.

Chapter End Notes:

Author's Note: The due date is an actual coincidence. If you take the date that they conceived (2nd of May) and count out forty weeks which is a full term pregnancy, you end up with a due date of 6th February. When I checked the Weasley birthdates for Ginny's, I discovered that Arthur's was on the due date, which I thought would be an interesting tie-in. One more note, since the baby does decide when it will be born, and this fictional baby will be no different, readers should note that it is perfectly normal for twins to be born 3-4 weeks early, and that is considered in the acceptable range for a full-term birth and not premature. Twins also tend to be smaller than their single birth counterparts, and part of that is due to the earlier delivery date. Lastly, before you ask, no, I do not have any twins of my own – two cousins in the States, two cousins in Canada and two nieces.

Author's Note: Welsh GlossaryChapter 7 Glossary GuideThese are the translations for the Welsh in Chapter 7. Mam, sut wyt ti? – Mum, how are you?

Eitha da. A chithau? – Quite well. And you?

Da iawn – Very good.

Dy cariad? – Your boyfriend?

Y baban? – The baby?

Mae'r y baban yb dda; yn dda iawn. – The baby is good; is very good (well).

Celwyddwraig - Liar

Marared – this is her mother's first name

Digon - Enough

Maeden - Slut
Wyt ti da? - Are you well?

y baban a dy cyfaill – the baby and your friend

Dim Rhiannon – Anything Rhiannon