Chapter 42

The sun was high in the sky and hot on Bill's bare arms. Beside him, Charlie was sprawled out similarly, bare arms and legs akimbo as they enjoyed the warm sun after a long morning of play. Much like at home, at the Burrow, the oldest Weasley boys spent almost all of their time outside. And, as at the Burrow, they had plenty of space to roam and explore. The garden here was different—there was no orchard and the pond was a different shape and surrounded by shade trees rather than tall grasses—but it had only made their summer explorations all the more exciting.

"When do you think we'll get to go home, Bill?"

Bill scratched his shoulder and blew out a strong gust of air, disrupting a slowly flying insect overhead. "No idea. Why? Don't you like it here?"

His younger brother huffed in response. "Sure. I just miss Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian… and fish and chips."

Laughing at his brother, Bill rolled to his side. "Fish and chips? You want to go home for fish and chips?"

"Well, not just that." Charlie glared halfheartedly at him. "Aren't you worried about them? Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian, not the chippies."

Bill lay back down, lacing his fingers across his chest. "Well, ya I guess. I'm sure they're fine though. I'm more worried about Helen." He sighed dreamily. "George is so lucky. Do you think she'd ever leave him and go out with me? When I'm older?"

"What?" Charlie burst into fits of giggles. "Are you mad? You're eight, you wanker. Besides, I heard mum say George and Helen are married. Like mum and dad. Why would she leave her grown up man for a scrawny little kid?"

"Oi, don't say wanker! Mum says it's naughty!" More upset by his younger brother's point than his choice of words, Bill sat up and punched him in the arm.

Charlie immediately sat up and launched himself at Bill. "Don't hit me, wanker!"

"Don't call me a wanker, you twat!"

And so they went, back and forth in the dirt and grass until they heard someone calling their names.

"Bill, Charlie!"

They hardly looked up from their scuffle.

"Bill! Charlie! Honestly, boys."

Suddenly they were being pulled apart and levitated in the air. They shrieked and squirmed until they were turned around to face their attacker.

"Helen!"

Bill felt himself blushing furiously but didn't care. "Hey, Helen!"

Still close enough to reach him, Charlie elbowed him once and smirked. "We were just talking about you."

Helen smiled at them then, but Bill thought it looked sad. "Really? And why did a conversation about me result in a fistfight?"

Charlie snorted. "Oh that's just boy stuff, Helen. But uh, why are you here? Is the war over? Can we go home? Are our uncles here too?"

Blinking rapidly, Helen glanced back over her shoulder at the house before trying to smile at them again. "No. No it's just George and I today. But we are taking you home."

Something was definitely wrong. She ended the spell holding them in the air after getting them to promise not to start fighting again and ushered them inside. Just before they reached the door, Helen put a hand on each of their shoulders.

"What's wrong, Helen?"

She pursed her lips and looked through the window as if waiting for something before shaking her head. "Go on inside, boys."

They shared a concerned look before obeying, pushing open the double doors and rushing down the hall. There were muttered conversations coming from the kitchen and Bill thought he heard his mother crying. Something hard settled in his stomach.

Both boys stopped just inside the kitchen. Their mum was sat in one of the table chairs, wiping her eyes and mumbling something they could not hear. George was kneeling in front of her and their dad stood behind, his hand on her shoulder but his gaze far away and sad.

They all looked up when the boys came in.

"What's happened?"

George stood and, with a final quiet word to their dad, walked out between them—patting each of their heads as he passed.

"Come here boys." Their mum beckoned for them, a tremulous look on her face they did not understand. "Come here."

They obeyed, each of them taking one of her hands. "What's happened, Mum?" Bill repeated his question. "Why aren't Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian here too?"

A tear slipped down her face and she looked down at her lap. "Well. I'm afraid… your Uncle Fabian was hurt very badly. He… that's where Gid is, dears. He's with his brother. George and Helen came to get us and take us home."

"He's going to be alright, isn't he? Uncle Fabian?"

Beside him, Charlie had begun to cry. "No dear. He isn't." Now her mother began to cry too, quietly as she tried to keep talking. "That's why… that's why we've got to leave right away."

Unable to say any more, their mum opened her arms to Charlie and held him while they both cried.

Bill's nose burned and his throat felt tight. Vision blurring, he ran out of the room before his dad could catch him. Someone called his name but he ignored it, racing instead up the stairs to his and Charlie's room.

He slammed the door and stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily and unsure what to do. There were tears leaking out of his eyes and someone was choking and sobbing like a baby. It might have been him.

"Bill, hey, mate."

Hands gently prodded his shoulder, trying to get him to turn around but he shook them off violently. "Go away!"

"Bill." It was George, he realized belatedly as the man came around to stand in front of him. He didn't say anything, just stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking down at Bill with a sad frown.

"Why… What happened to him? I don't understand? Uncle Fabian can't die. He was gonna teach me about cool stuff they don't learn at Hogwarts when I got my wand. He promised."

"Oh yah? Like what?"

"Like… like blood wards and cursed mummies from Egypt. And… and…"

He couldn't see anymore, there were too many tears in his eyes. George squeezed his shoulder and suddenly, Bill wished he hadn't run away from his mum. He wanted a hug too. Without worrying if he thought him a baby, Bill fell into George's open arms, burying his face in his sweater.

"It's… not… fair!"

"I know, mate." George was hugging him back, he might have been crying too but Bill didn't see. "It never is."

"What about Uncle Gideon? How…" He sniffed hard, not daring to look up. "How can there be Uncle Gideon and not Uncle Fabian?"

Now he knew George was crying too. He pulled one of his hands from around Bill to wipe at his face, coughing once to clear his throat. "Gid will be ok, Bill."

"You don't understand!" Now he did look up, trying to make him see. "They're twins, like our new babies. Not like normal brothers. What will happen to Uncle Gideon without his brother?"

George frowned deeply, holding Bill by the shoulders. "I do understand, Bill, better than most." There was something so sad in his eyes then that Bill couldn't stand to look at it, hanging his head instead. "He's going to feel like he's died too. Like… everything that made him who he was is gone and he won't understand what's left. But… eventually he'll figure it out. And it won't be easy and it won't ever go away, not really. But he'll be ok, Bill. I promise, ya?"

Bill nodded and wiped his face. "Mum said we're going home. Do we get to see him again?" He looked up into George's sad face imploringly. "Will I get to say goodbye?"

The frown didn't lesson and George sighed. "Do you want to? He might not want you to see him, mate. He's… in a bad way. Might want you to remember him how he was when you saw him last."

Bill wiped furiously at his face again, glaring up at George. "Have you seen him?"

"Well, ya…"

"Well I've known him longer than you. I want to say—to say goodbye."

Relenting, George nodded, the corner of his mouth turning up in a sad, almost-smile. "Alright, mate. Alright. Let's get a few things packed for you and Charlie and we'll go, ok?"

GH

Hermione paced back and forth around the sitting room in the Prewetts' townhouse, little Percy asleep in her arms. Charlie and the twins were all upstairs sleeping as well, a monitoring charm set in case they needed her. It was quiet. Maybe she should rest too. But she couldn't.

So she paced.

She had gone with George that morning to get his family. They'd made an illegal, emergency portkey. Fabian wanted to say goodbye to his big sister.

That's where they were now. George had taken his parents, and Bill, who'd insisted on going too, to the tent. She had argued about letting Bill go. The children didn't need to see Fabian as he was. But George had quietly decided, saying he was old enough to understand and old enough to remember if they forbade him.

She trusted her husband's judgment, and she knew he knew his brother better than she did, better than his parents really. It was completely the wrong time to be having thoughts of their own future, but she couldn't help imagining how he'd be as a father every time he showed up for his little brothers.

Tired of being sad, and thinking about all the people they'd lost, Hermione allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy. Little Percy, sleeping so peacefully in her arms did not help. Should she stop taking her potion? Was now the right time?

Counting back months from her birthday the following September, she determined she wouldn't be conceived until December. Did they want their first child attending Hogwarts the same year as herself and Harry? They had already decided they wanted their children to attend Hogwarts, assuming they got rid of Dumbledore. Did it matter when?

She bounced Percy gently, smiling down at his sweet, freckled face. Would their children look like the rest of the Weasleys? Would they look like her? Between the two of them, they were bound to be brilliant little terrors, especially if the twins were any influence.

With so many 'cousins' attending every other year, she supposed it didn't matter when. She had planned to refile her arithmancy mastery paperwork and do contract work from home. There was no rush, and yet neither was there anything worth pushing it off for.

It was these thoughts that filled her mind, distracting her entirely when George stepped through the floo. She hardly noticed he was there until he was behind her, arms wrapped around her chest. He'd immediately buried his face in her neck and she could feel that he was exhausted and sad.

"I want a baby, George."

His surprised huff of almost amusement stirred her curls. "What? You mean now?"

She shrugged against him. "Soon? Maybe it's my way of coping with everything we've lost in the last year and a half but… I just want to move forward. I want to focus on the future, on being happy again. I want to put my energy into building something good and beautiful. No more war strategy and weapons of mass death."

She sighed and when he didn't respond, she cocked her head to the side so she could see his face. He was looking down at his brother, one hand having reached to push his feathery red hair out of his face. "Is that ok, George? I know we haven't really talked about it, not seriously. Is it too soon? Should we wait?"

He hummed thoughtfully but didn't answer right away. Not wanting to pressure him, she waited. Eventually he kissed her cheek, pressing his forehead into the side of her face. "Maybe stop taking your potion, but let's wait to try seriously until after all the trials are done." A warm sigh caressed her face. "I don't want to have to worry about a vengeful Dumbledore anywhere near my pregnant wife."

The deep, protective edge that was probably not entirely werewolf influenced rumbled in his chest against her back and did something positively wicked to her core. Combined with thoughts of him getting her pregnant that she found strangely arousing, and exactly how that was usually accomplished had her feeling a complete hot mess. It was definitely not the appropriate time for that.

He must have noticed, if the smirk she felt pressed against her cheek was any indication. Damn wolf nose. Clearing her throat, she shook her shoulders slightly to dislodge him and sat with Percy in one of the plush chairs. Allowing herself a moment to clear her thoughts, she looked up at him with a small smile.

"Alright."

His smile was sweet, if a little sad. "I'm going to go grab something to eat and check on the boys. Do you want anything, Love?"

She shook her head and glanced at the fireplace. "When will they be back?"

The smile faded completely, replaced by a deep frown. "Not… probably not for a while. Dad and Bill might come through soon but I think Mum…" He swiped at his nose and looked at the floor. "I think Mum is going to sit with them until it's… until he's gone. I don't know how I can tell but, it won't be long."

Hermione's eyes burned but she was determined not to cry again. Not yet. Nodding, she looked down at the sleeping boy in her arms and held him just a little bit tighter. "Alright. Well, I think I'll stay here then and wait for them. Come and find me if you need me, George."

"I will." He leaned over the back of the chair, kissing her temple. "I love you."

"I love you too."

A/N IDK why but George with his little brothers is just so sweet.