Chapter Twenty Eight

It took George a second to process the name Hermione had just said. Bellatrix LeStrange? That wench had been dead for years, hadn't she?

"Hermione, what are you talking about? Hermione, wait!" George had to leap out of bed as she took off out of the room. He stalled long enough to grab their robes.

"Where is my wand!" Hermione demanded as she tore through the flat frantically searching for the thin piece of wood. It wasn't until she located it on her coffee table and her location spell came up with nothing that she stopped and breathed deeply. "Just a dream… it was just a dream…"

It hadn't been that bad in a long time. Hermione's eyes went wide with horror as she realized she hadn't remembered to take a dreamless sleep potion before nodding off. Sweet Merlin, George was never going to speak to her again after seeing that. A warmth over her shoulders made her jump but she calmed down slightly when she realized it was just George putting her robe over her. He looked worried. She didn't blame him.

"Hermione…" he said slowly as he pulled the robe around her. "What is going on? LeStrange is dead. We both watched Mum kill her."

Hermione open and closed her mouth a few times before sighing. "I was hoping you'd never see that," she said while leading him over to couch. They sat down and George pulled a throw blanket over their legs. "I'm sorry that you did."

"Just what exactly did I just see, and why didn't you want me to see it?" George tilted Hermione's down turned face upwards to look at him. "Love, you can tell me anything. I promise I don't scare easy."

Hermione searched his eyes for a moment. Part of her wanted to tell him, to let him into every inch of her but she was afraid. He may not scare easy but would he would he still want someone so utterly broken? She hadn't even told Harry and Ron the worst of it. The worst being one of her driving reasons for breaking things off with Ron. There were many other causes that were more important but it certainly helped make her decision at the time.

"I…" she sighed. May as well have it out now. If he was going to sprinting out the door because of it, may as well let him now before she fell completely in love with him. "Ever since the war I have had horrible vivid nightmares. The clinical term is Night Terrors but it boils down to if I don't take a low grade dreamless sleep potion before I sleep I wake up screaming."

"Every time?"

"Every time. It's at the point where if I don't put sound proof charms around my bedroom my neighbors call the police for fear that someone is attacking me. I almost always remember to take them but last night I was understandable preoccupied."

George frowned for a moment, "Why haven't I seen you take them? I'm over a lot."

"I usually am able to tip it into my tea really quickly and get rid of the vial before you see it," Hermione said sheepishly. "I didn't know how long you'd be around to be honest and this isn't really something I like a lot of people knowing about."

"Who does know?"

"Harry and Ron. Luna too. Luna and I were flat mates for a few months while I was in law school. She was very helpful," Hermione said. "Sally knows I have them but not why I have them. I don't usually like going into the details."

George vaguely recalled that day in the office hearing Sally speaking in a low calming voice to Hermione. He couldn't really hear what she said though; he did have a book case on top of him after all. He pulled Hermione close and hugged her.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, Love," George pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Hermione shook her head, "No, you should know before you decide you're going to stick around."

George nodded, "Alright. I'm all ears. Well… I'm all ear."

She chuckled slightly and nestled into George's arm. Hermione took a deep breath, hoping she actually had the courage to get through the story again, "Well as you know Harry, Ron and I were on the run that last year before the final battle. What not a lot of people know is that during that time is that we were caught by Snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor. When they found the sword of Gryffindor in my bag LeStrange had the boys locked in the cellar while she 'questioned' me."

George tightened his grip on her protectively, "And by 'questioned' you mean…"

"She tortured me for over an hour."

George had to swallow down a growl. The idea of anyone laying a hand on Hermione angered him in a way he didn't usually feel.

"And when she was done, she threw my half conscious on the floor at Greyback's feet to let him have what was left."

And that made his blood freeze in their veins.

"Did…. Did he assault you?" George managed to squeeze out. His relief was overwhelming when he felt Hermione shake her head.

"No, Mrs. Malfoy stopped him. I don't know if she did it out of pity or she did it because she didn't want a Mudblood dying on her carpet, but either way she saved my life. Greyback would have killed me after he'd had his fun. I still have the scars on my thigh from his claws."

George's brow furrowed slightly. Scars? What scars? He was fairly sure he had thoroughly inspected every perfect inch of her skin not three hours ago, and he didn't recall seeing a single blemish, let alone a scar. George sighed, the logical answer finally dawning on him.

"Take it off."

Hermione chuckled. "George, is now really the best time to suggest another round?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Hermione," George said gently as he sat them up. "Take off the glamour."

The smile slipped completely off of Hermione's face and she cast her eyes downward again, "I don't think you really want to see that, George."

"Let me be the judge of that," he kissed her hair. "Please?"

Hermione sighed and pulled out her wand again, lifting the spell from herself. George had to take a deep breath and count to ten. Never before had he felt such jealous towards his own mother. If only it had been him to be able to kill that bitch instead…

With the glamour gone, tiny scars littered her face while darker ones peeked out from under the robe. The most obvious one on her face was a thin white line that went from just below her left eye to her cheek. Slowly, so as not to scare her, George gently pushed the robe off of her shoulders to get a better look. Hermione stared straight at the ground, not able to meet his eyes at all. George's jaw clenched tight as his fingers traced the dark scars that started at her breast and ended at her navel. It looked like someone had tried to flay the very flesh from her back and true to what she had said; five nail shaped lines trailed from her upper thigh down about three inches on both sides. The most chilling one though was down her right arm. In jagged letters, a cruel repulsive word had been cut into her very skin. The angry red letters stood out on her pale skin. That disgusting word. That filthy vicious word that had no right being anywhere on her perfect body. The pain of it must have been excruciating. George couldn't help himself, and as he pulled the shaking witch into his arms he let several tears fall from his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said as he pressed gentle kisses to the word on her arm. "I'm so, so sorry, Hermione. Merlin Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me?"

"I… I didn't want you to see how ugly I was," she admitted in barely a whisper. "You're a wonderful person, George… you deserve someone who is whole and can look beautiful for you with out the use of a glamour."

"Don't," George almost growled. "Don't you ever talk about yourself like that ever again. You are beautiful. You could be missing half your face and you would be still be beautiful to me."

"But not whole," Hermione said, pulling away slightly. He may as well know the worst of it. "I… George, because of some of the curses LeStange used on me, I may never be able to have children."

The admission nearly sucked the air completely out of George's lungs. The idea of wanting children with Hermione shouldn't even be on his mind this early in their relationship but it was always there in the back of his brain. A little girl with shimmering red curls and brown eyes, or a little boy with chocolate brown locks and bright blue eyes had been on his mind for weeks now… and if he stayed with her that may never happen. The thought shouldn't chill him but it did. It was cruel to her on so many levels. Far crueler to her than it ever would be to him. George saw how she looked at little James or how she smiled when the other children ran about the Burrow. He now knew what that smile was. It was a sad one of understanding that she may never get to have one herself, but an acceptance of it. If he ever met LeStrange in the afterlife he would make sure she suffered for the rest of eternity.

Hermione watched George's face as her confession sunk in. His eyes went wide with what she could only assume was disappointment. She couldn't expect him to stick around knowing she could never give him children, what Weasley would want someone who couldn't bare children? It was better this way. It would hurt for a bit sure, but it was kinder to let him go so he could find someone who could give him a family. If only one of them could leave this and end up happy, she'd be ok with it being him.

George surprised her when he grabbed her and pulled her back to his chest tightly.

"It doesn't matter," he said, and he meant it. There were other ways, surrogates, adoption, fertility potions… ways they could think about in a few years when he convinced her she couldn't live with out him just as much as he was coming to realize he couldn't live with out her. "It doesn't matter."

"How can you say that?" she asked. "You could leave right now and I swear I wouldn't think any less of you. You could leave and go find someone who can give you a family, a life that you could be happy with."

"Hermione, you're a smart bird so I'm sure I'll only have to say this once and you'll get it," George said with a smile. "I already have a life I am happy with, and a someone I am happy to have it with. The details we can sort out later."

Hermione wasn't entirely sure she believed him but she couldn't see anything false in his eyes so she just laid her head back down on her chest and curled into his warmth. Maybe he really wasn't leading her on after all.

"Let's go back to bed, Love," George kissed the top of her head. "Still have a long day a head of us tomorrow. You go get cozy, I'll be right back."

Hermione made her way back to the bedroom and had just gotten comfortable beneath the blankets again when George came in with a cup of tea in one hand and a vial in the other. She watched him uncork the vial and pour it into the mug. He smiled softly as he handed it to her.

"I found your stash in the flour jar. I always wondered why you had a flour jar but never baked," he said.

"To be fair I am very busy with work most of the time to bake," she chuckled as she sipped the warm tea. The effects of the potion were almost instant and Hermione could feel the tension evaporate from her shoulders. She set the cup aside on the table as George crawled beneath the covers as well and pulled her back to him. As she nodded off again, Hermione allowed herself to take comfort in the feeling of his arms. Maybe she was actually allowed to have this.

TBC

A/N: Told ya I've been productive today ;) This chapter was actually sort of difficult for me to write in that it slightly mirrors a conversation my husband and I had while we were dating. I think in a way though that helped me write this chapter a little bit better. I hope you think so too. R&R, lovelies.

~Chupip