~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 20th June, 1998 (Saturday)~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Verity I'm going to need you to close up shop alright? Duty calls I'm afraid." George winked at his assistant and sauntered out the door, coat in hand.
Once outside he sighed and raked a hand through his hair. Hermione's cravings were disgusting, to say the least. On top of which, he wasn't exactly sure what to do about Hermione and Angelina. On the one hand, Hermione wanted to keep her pregnancy a secret and George wanted her to move into his flat to make things easier. But on the other hand, he had Angelina. Whom he loved. And it seemed as if the choices currently lay as 'Choose Hermione and thereby Fred, taking her in and keeping her secret', or 'Choose Angelina over Fred, thereby telling her about Hermione's pregnancy and the fact that George would soon be living with someone other than his girlfriend despite the fact that he'd turned down her offer to move in together. A bad business altogether.
In the end, George stocked up on his faster-than-usually-depleted supply of alcohol and dropped off Hermione's foodstuffs before heading home to get outrageously drunk, alone.
Hermione knew George had stopped by at some point but, knee-deep in the throes of research, elected to ignore the tempting candies waiting on her counter. All around her lay bits of parchment pinned on the walls and books open to random pages as she switched between them muttering continuously.
"There has to be a way...they ought to have researched this by now…" she often repeated (usually with enough foul language to kill a man).
On and on the night wore away until dawn had begun to rise and still Hermione was left without an answer. By the time George stopped by to remind her of the Weasley Sunday lunch, she'd fallen asleep across Necromancy: A Guide To The Fouler Artes.
"Hermione? Hermione wake up we've got to leave soon," George said quietly, shaking her shoulder.
"Mmmfff go 'way," she grumbled.
George rolled his eyes.
"Hermione you have three seconds to wake up or I'll go to that lunch myself and tell mum you're pregnant with-with Fred's child."
Hermione bolted upright and snarled at him, but was soon showered and dressed.
"That wasn't funny in the slightest," she hissed at him as they walked to her floo. "You've got no right to tell anyone about this and you know it!"
George made some noise of assent but didn't really say anything as he flooed away, Hermione soon following him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Weasley Sunday Lunch, 21st June, 1998~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you asked Hermione, lunch was awful. Nausea rolled through her in waves and the most random of smells set it off. Worse, she was starving and ate nearly as much as any of the Weasley boys, a feat Hermione prayed Molly wouldn't notice. George opted to sit by her the entire time which displeased Angelina greatly though the witch couldn't put a finger as to why. More than once, Hermione heard her lean in and whisper to George about Hermione or 'certain witches' or 'Ron's friend'.
Ron wasn't too pleased about it either, despite having no right to his feelings for Hermione. And after yet another snide 'You and George were awfully closely timed in your floo arrivals" remark, Hermione snapped.
"Ronald Weasley! If you have any implications you'd like to go right out and say, I suggest you do so now or I might very well hex you!" she said angrily.
Ron's eyes narrowed but he hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and plunging into the coming storm.
"Oh so it's my fault now that you've gone from one twin to the other? Don't think I didn't notice you listening to Fred all those times on Potterwatch! And I suppose you're just switching to the next best thing now he's gone? I knew you had a thing for quidditch players but Merlin's saggy left Y-front Hermione! Tell me," he changed attitudes faster than an adder, leaning forward face shining with spitefulness Hermione'd rarely seen before. "Did you ever get them to share? Hoping for a quickie before running off to fight Voldie? It's no wonder Krum left as soon as he could." Ron spat in disgust.
The table went silent, all eyes on Ron and Hermione in shock. It seemed nobody knew where to look. Hermione, meanwhile, was near shaking with rage. George watched in stunned horror as she slowly picked up her tumbler of water and flung it in Ron's face before standing up to better bring him to his knees.
"You dare," she hissed back at him, "dare to suggest that I am a whore? That I am so indelicate as to sleep with your brothers with little to no regard as to the who's and when's of the matter? You didn't seem near so inclined to worry about delicacy when you went ahead and got with half the remaining female population once Voldemort was gone and you weren't stuck in a tent with me! You didn't seem worried about public appearance when you lied to my face and said you loved me whilst sleeping with anyone who gave you a second look. Fuck you Ronald!" she screamed. Hermione spun in the wake of everyone's shock and apparated away before anyone could do a thing. Behind her, Angelina slowly turned to George.
"Do you have anything to tell me?" she asked quietly.
George gulped, realising that all eyes now rested on him.
A/N: So apparently I'm to continue this story for at least another chapter as far as I can see. Sorry for the cliffy. Review if you don't mind.