I'm really sorry, you guys! I've just been so exhausted and I couldn't get this chapter to look the way that I wanted to. Holidays, birthdays, work, and my boyfriend lost his job, so things have been a bit chaotic on my end. I'm still here, and I haven't abandoned you, and I appreciate all of you for patiently waiting for me to update. You've all been very sweet.
This chapter took ages and I'm a perfectionist, but I've got to let it rest. I'm calling it decent from here before I drive myself insane. Enjoy!
H. : Thank you for reviewing! I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story so far. It's been so much fun for me to write.
RoonieTunes: Thank you, love. It's a rough time of year for a lot of us, but I'm doing better. Things will get far less chaotic once the holidays are over. And oh my gosh, the thought of George discovering the scar is already making me swoon. He's such a sweetheart when he wants to be and I adore him.
Chapter Eight
Perhaps Hermione had lost all sense of herself since she'd learned about the marriage law. She certainly couldn't find any other explanation for the fact that she actually…enjoyed working in the twins' shop.
It was horribly chaotic and loud and the opposite of everything that she'd ever enjoyed, but there was something very stimulating about the entire thing. There were people everywhere, children so excited and giddy about new and old products that they couldn't keep the grins off of their faces, parents who had regaled her fondly of how much their children loved the products. It was more physically demanding than she'd expected and she had started drinking coffee as a means to keep herself energized enough to chase around the wildest of the children who came into the shop or restock the shelves fast enough to keep them all happy. And it was surprisingly intellectually stimulating, watching the twins develop products or ask her something theoretical about certain charms or potions — perhaps she hadn't paid much attention, but the twins themselves were quite smart.
She couldn't remember that fact from when they'd been in school, but she watched them quite often come up with ideas for new products almost totally out of the blue; watched them bounce ideas off of each other for how to tweak spells or potions to fit their needs as if it were entirely second nature to them; watched them put effort and thought into every idea they had, writing down every trial or success, sketching out photos and preliminary products and sales points, refusing to stop working until they got something exactly right, no matter how many times that it didn't come through for them.
It was…marvelous.
It felt like an odd word to use, but she often found herself looking at George in slower moments of the day, her head half-cocked as she considered him as if it were the very first time she'd seen him.
He took her by surprise at least once a day. Sometimes it was just some stupid joke, sometimes it was the love he had for the shop, sometimes it was simply the way that he interacted with Fred. But most times it was because she was trying to reconcile the image she had of him in school — wild, carefree, indifferent, a bit careless — with the person she saw now — still a bit of all of those things, of course, but also painstaking about his work; attentive to the needs of his customers; charismatic and charming enough to gain and keep their attention, but personal enough to make them feel like he was there only for them.
And probably one of the smartest people she'd ever met.
Just the evening before, he'd been telling her about how he wondered if he could manipulate the Lumos charm to make someone glow in the dark. She'd stared at him for a long moment because she hadn't really understood the question, but she'd ended up spending an hour sitting on the store room floor — where she was supposed to be organizing the products for easier access — discussing with him the possibilities of using the charm on chewing gum and had ended up coming back to the Burrow later than she'd expected because they'd gotten so caught up in discussion.
Ginny's smirk had been entirely unhelpful, and she'd pretended not to notice it.
All of these things, and it had only been two weeks in the shop with him.
Was it possible to have read someone so completely wrong? She was starting to feel like she didn't know a thing about George Weasley at all.
"You're staring at me again."
She startled at the sound of his voice, thick with unrestrained amusement, from where he was working diligently on the paperwork he typically did in the morning before they opened. Flushing pink, she cleared her throat awkwardly and went back to straightening things on the shelf from the day before.
"Sorry, I was distracted," she said, cursing internally because it was such a horrible excuse. He was clear across the store, and what could she have possibly been distracted by that would have required staring at him stupidly?
He grinned, lifting his eyes from the documents in front of him to look at her.
"I have that effect on women," he said arrogantly, grinning wider when she scoffed at him.
"The only women I've seen ogling you in the last two weeks are teenage girls," she said with a snort. "In fact, I think I heard Rachel discussing with her friends if they thought she could slip a love potion into your morning coffee."
George had gone back to his paperwork with a grin at the sound of her dry sarcastic voice — he found that tone somewhat exhilarating for reasons unknown to him, and she had a brilliant mind. He'd known that before, of course, but she was as quick with her comebacks as she was with her textbook knowledge.
When the words fully registered to him, however, his head snapped up to look at her in horror, and she had to stifle her amusement behind the boxes of U-No-Poo she was straightening.
"She's fourteen!" he exclaimed, totally horrified.
"I'm aware," she said, clearly amused at his reaction. She walked around the front counter, tapping the register with her wand and then, satisfied that it was working, jumped up to sit on the counter next to him. There was a playful twinkle in her eyes that made his stomach swoop out from under him, which he ignored entirely. "That's about the age that you become interested in relationships, isn't it?"
"Not with grown men!" he said indignantly. "She's supposed to be giving those love potions to someone her own age!"
"It doesn't say that on the box with the other warnings —"
"It's common sense."
"George, you sell cookies designed to constipate and candies designed to make people throw up," she said blandly. "I hardly think common sense applies in this store."
He narrowed his eyes on her.
"Is that why you charmed that side table to be inaccessible to anyone except us?" he said, nodding toward the table next to the front counter that they typically rested their coffees on when they were mid-rush. He'd thought it quite annoying when the thing went off screeching in warning any time someone other than himself, Fred, Hermione, or Verity touched it, but perhaps he ought to have considered such a thing before. Or singing her praises.
"She got fairly close to your coffee once when I was busy trying to keep David from lighting fireworks inside the store," she said with a shrug. "It felt like the safest choice. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to demonstrate the way your love potions work to your customers?"
He snorted, giving her a look full of exasperation.
"I've already tested them quite enough, thanks," he said with a snort.
Her brow furrowed.
"Really? With who?"
There was a moment where George paused in his scribbling at the question as if he couldn't quite believe she'd ask him that question, although she had no idea why. There was another moment where she was entirely sure that his ears had gone red — an action she was very familiar with with Ron, but certainly not either of the twins.
"That's not important," he said dismissively. If she hadn't caught his ears turning red, she might even have suspected he'd said so casually. There was hardly a waver in his voice, the assuredness that he usually carried himself with coming back as though it had not once disappeared. "Point is, they work. That's all our customers need to know."
She considered him for a long moment. He seemed normal now, but he'd gotten very weird just a moment ago.
Or perhaps she was reading into things — she didn't know him all that well, no matter how often they spent time together in the shop. At the moment, he was her boss and nothing more. She'd certainly gotten used to being near him, had certainly seen more sides of him than she'd seen before, but as far as personality quirks and preferences, she really didn't know him all that well.
Except it was hard for her to imagine why a man so open would refuse to answer her now. Particularly about a question that seemed so straight forward.
She had a small inkling as to why, and she took her opportunity the moment that Fred walked in from the back, waving his wand to unlock the shop door, flip the sign to open, and helped her off the counter.
"How are you today, Hermy?"
"Quit that," she said with a glare, ignoring George's snigger. "I'm fine. I was just talking to your brother about how the two of you tested your love potions on each other —"
Fred straightened, his jaw completely unhinging as he stared at George in horror.
"George, we agreed we weren't going to tell people about that!" he said, punching his twin in the shoulder so hard that it nearly sent him careening backward. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand to hide her grin. "Why would you tell her that?"
George retaliated by punching Fred in the shoulder.
"I didn't, you wanker," he said pointedly. "You just did."
Hermione couldn't help herself. She burst into giggles because the twins were so clearly ashamed of themselves, and Fred glared at her.
"That was a dirty trick, Granger," he said, pointing at her accusingly. "It's no big deal. We test all our products on ourselves and I couldn't exactly give myself the love potion —"
"Don't think it would make much difference if you had, seeing how much you're already in love with yourself," Hermione scoffed.
"Everyone should be in love with themselves, Granger," he said, affronted, straightening his robes when someone walked through the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a business to run. A business I came up with —"
"We came up with —" George said pointedly.
"I'm not talking to you, you told her about the potions," Fred said, shoving his nose into the air and walking to greet the customers that had entered.
Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering how she'd ended up in this place to begin with.
"Nothing happened," George said abruptly. She looked at him in confusion. "With the potions. The moment he started making heart eyes at me, I gave him the antidote. Simple as that."
Hermione couldn't help it — she burst out laughing. It was the tone of his voice as much as his serious expression that sent her over the edge. He looked quite horrified at the prospect that she'd have thought he'd have done anything untoward while the potions had been being tested.
And she'd already assumed that, of course. Seeing as he and Fred could still stand to be joined at the hip, she'd guessed, but she couldn't help but laugh at his insistence. And not the sort of passing giggle either — she laughed so hard, she had to hold her sides and bend over to try to get air into her lungs. She laughed so hard that tears streamed down her face and she wanted to beg herself to stop before her sides hurt so bad that she wanted to cry for an altogether different reason, except there was something very freeing about it.
It had been so long since she'd laughed that way. Between the war, cleanup, her own struggles, and her issues with Ron, she hadn't found much to laugh about in the last several months. Everything had seemed so bleak, but she couldn't help herself now.
"Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry," she gasped, waving her hand in the air as if it would dissipate the giggles and trying to breathe in deeply without sending herself into another round of laughter. "I'm sorry, it's just — you looked so horrified."
"Well, of course I did," he scoffed. "It was embarrassing enough to live through — if we'd thought of a good alternative, we would have. Lee refused to help with that particular line, the prude."
Hermione snorted, wiping at her eyes as the store began to fill. She'd thought him joking when he'd said Monday was their busiest day, but he had not been. Every other day, the store filled to the brim within the first hour. Weekends were a nightmare.
"Does Lee know that you two —"
"No," George said, closing his folder and vanishing it back to their office. He pointed at her warningly as he moved around the counter. "And he isn't going to either, got that?" She rolled her eyes before turning to the first customers who made their way toward the till with their purchases, plastering her face with the well-practiced smile she'd mastered in the first few weeks. "Oh, and Hermione?"
She looked over at him, furrowing her brow.
"You should laugh like that more often," he said before he disappeared to help other customers.
She felt her cheeks turn pink, though she had no idea why. It was a simple thing to say, but the meaning behind it was plain. She cleared her throat, her cheeks still warm, as she greeted the customers in front of her, making the wand movement that she'd become well accustomed to.
In the beginning, she hadn't felt like she'd been helping much. The first week, she'd felt more like a hindrance than a help, following Verity around like a puppy and asking a million questions. Verity was very patient, despite how annoying her questions must have been because she'd asked every one under the sun, and she'd managed to get more comfortable as the first week had come to an end. Now, she at least knew how to man the registers and could (mostly) make sense of the store room to help restock, though she still had some work in remembering what all of the products were for.
All in all, though, she was quite satisfied with how quickly she'd managed to learn things. By the time Verity had come in at eleven, she'd managed to keep the line at the till quite manageable. She accepted the coffee Verity handed her with a smile of thanks, and waved her away when she asked if she needed help with anything.
No matter what, however, she'd never quite get used to the chaos of the store. While Fred and George were able to step off of the floor more easily now, Hermione quite suspected that they'd need to hire more than one new employee before the school year started. She didn't even want to imagine the back to school rush with just the four of them.
And that was before she met Eugene. He was a force to be reckoned with, though she didn't quite notice him until the table beside the till was screeching in warning. She whirled to face it, her hands on her hips, and watched the blonde boy hide something hastily behind his back.
"What do you think you're doing?" she said sharply.
If she'd thought she'd sounded severe, she was sorely mistaken because the younger boy merely looked her up and down curiously, his eyebrows furrowing.
"You're new," he said plainly.
"What are you hiding?" she said, ignoring his statement entirely for the sake of learning which product he'd pilfered. She'd been quite sharp with Fred for being so rude to the customers when he'd caught them trying to sneak things in their pockets, but she'd begun to understand his desire. She would never succumb to such tactics, but it was quite annoying how many people thought they could pull one over on them. As if the Weasley twins couldn't spot a troublemaker from a mile off. "If you've opened it, you'll have to pay for it."
The boy stared at her as if she were speaking Spanish.
"I don't have to pay," he said, indignant. "Who are you?"
"Who are you?" she said peevishly, annoyed by his constant dodging of her questions, before pinching her nose between her two fingers. She was having a ridiculous argument with a child. The lows she had stooped to since she'd started working here. She'd not thought herself much different, but clearly she was letting Fred and George's informality rub off on her. Sighing deeply, she said, "I'm Hermione. Now tell me what you've got behind your back."
"No."
"No?"
"That's what I said."
Hermione gaped at him. Never in all of her days had she ever spoken to an adult like that when she'd been younger. Her parents were quite strict on etiquette and respect, especially to her elders, and she was simply floored that someone so young would be so adamantly difficult.
"Where are your parents?" she said, losing patience entirely. There were a number of people lining up at the queue, and she was losing patience with the antics of such a small child. He was rather adorable looking, short blonde hair, round glasses, and a smattering of freckles across his nose, but he was quite possibly the rudest child she'd spoken to since starting here.
"My mum is at work," he said, straightening indignantly.
Hermione blinked at him.
"I — you're here alone?"
He was quite small, and she didn't imagine him being any older than eight years old. Why on Earth would a parent leave such a small child in a store alone?
"I'm a big boy," he said indignantly as if the question implied that she were suggesting he was a mere toddler. "I'm not a baby."
She wanted to roll her eyes to the ceiling at this assessment, but her concern was taking precedence over her dislike for the child in front of her. She'd be quite rude herself if her parents had left her in a store like this by herself.
Of course, she wasn't even sure her parents would have come into a store like this. Her mother certainly wouldn't have.
"Hermione, what's the hold —" George came pushing his way through customers, and his impatience immediately gave way to a grin at the sight of her standing off against the eight year old in front of her.
"Hi, George!" the child said to George cheerily, waving at him excitedly.
"Verity, could you man this other register?" George yelled toward Verity, who appeared from nowhere, immediately taking the other register and beginning the process of thinning the line of customers. "'Lo, Eugene. I see you've met Hermione."
"Eugene?" Hermione said indignantly. "This is Eugene?"
"What's it to you?" Eugene said, wrinkling his nose at her in distaste. George snorted when Hermione narrowed her eyes on him impatiently.
"Don't be rude," George said immediately to the younger boy, who had the sense to look ashamed, although Hermione nearly growled when he stuck his tongue out at her the moment George's back was turned. "Hermione is helping at the store. A word, love?"
"Love?" Eugene said, sticking his tongue out in disgust. "Are you his girlfriend?"
"I — no," she said, her cheeks turning pink. "He just says that —"
"My sister has a boyfriend," Eugene said with a scowl, clearly not interested in her response to his question. "He's got a butt chin. They have to get married now, so she said I have to stop putting dragon dung under his pillow or he'll think I don't like him."
Hermione gaped at him, completely at a loss for words for how horrible it was that he'd even considered putting dragon dung under someone's pillow. She looked at George in horror, and he had to press his lips together to keep from laughing.
"Go and find Fred, Eugene," he said, waving the younger boy off in his twin's direction. "He'll have something to keep you busy."
Eugene gave her one last lingering look of displeasure before he went skipping off in Fred's direction.
"Eugene can have whatever he likes in the store," George said the moment the younger boy had walked off. "Just keep an eye on him when he's near the fireworks. He's a bit too interested in them and he'll set the whole bloody bin on fire —"
"Where are his parents?" Hermione interrupted, totally flabbergasted. "Why are you letting him take products? How did he get here? What is —"
George smiled at her sadly, but she was too irritated to back down entirely. Or really notice the sadness tinged in the expression.
"Just keep an eye on him, alright?" he said, nodding at Fred when he mimed something at him that she didn't understand. "I'll explain the rest later."
Hermione had a hundred questions she'd like to have asked him, but they were far too busy, so she let him walk back into the fray and let them all crowd her mind instead.
Her frustration grew with every passing hour. For one thing, she didn't like not knowing things, and there was clearly something to know. The twins didn't even offer free products to their own siblings, and she'd listened to Ron whine about this a hundred times over. For another thing, she might kill Eugene. Their argument seemed to have set him on a mission to send her over the edge of sanity, and the hours that dragged by felt like days she'd spent on the run from Voldemort. Dramatic possibly, but she wanted to throw a rock at an eight year old, so clearly she'd lost herself entirely.
She nearly collapsed in relief when the store slowed slightly. Nearly cried from the relief of seeing Ginny walk through the door at four o'clock, although she couldn't have explained why. Possibly because it had slowed enough that she could let herself rant to her best friend in order to bring herself back to neutral. It would pick back up in an hour, but it gave them a chance to breathe. And if Ginny couldn't calm her down then she might have to put in her notice now.
"You look knackered," Ginny said in greeting, grinning at her in amusement. Hermione brushed hair back from her forehead and glared at her in exasperation.
"Don't start," she said simply, straightening some of the products on the shelf. "I don't know how Fred and George do this every day. I've been snapped at by two disgruntled parents, I stepped in what I sincerely hope was chocolate near the Pygmy Puff cages, and there's a little blonde boy — although possibly a demon, I haven't yet decided — who has spent the entire day causing chaos throughout the store. He tried to put a self-propelling pie in my bag earlier. And I think he's trying to sneak a U-No-Poo cookie into my coffee when I'm not looking. As if constipation is the thing that I need right now —"
Ginny burst into giggles, the laughter only gaining in momentum when Hermione glared at her.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she gasped through her laughter. "I'm just wondering how you're going to manage raising George's children if you can't even handle a little blonde boy."
"This isn't funny," Hermione said peevishly. "He doesn't listen to a thing I say. George's children will listen to me if I'm their mother —"
"You do remember George, don't you?" Ginny said incredulously.
Hermione didn't bother responding to that inquiry. She also deliberately chose not to think about all of the times that George had not listened to his own mother. It was a means of self-preservation at this point.
"Yes, well, you should tell George that you broke your arm or something. Get me out of this place —"
Ginny snorted and gave her an exasperated look.
"First of all, he'll notice that my arm isn't broken —"
"That's easily fixed," Hermione scoffed. Ginny blinked at her.
"You've been spending too much time in this place," she muttered, shaking her head as if she were trying to make sense of what she'd just said to her. "And secondly, we don't have to do that. We have an appointment at St. Mungo's. That's why I'm here."
Hermione's jaw unhinged.
"I — that's today?" she said.
God, how had she even forgotten? She'd been dreading the entire thing to begin with. She'd thought of little else since she'd made the appointment, and if Ginny hadn't said they should go together, she might have avoided making the appointment entirely.
Ginny gave her a worried look.
"Hermione, are you doing okay?" she said worriedly. "You've been a mess lately. No offense."
Hermione would have liked to brush off the concern, but she wasn't sure that she could at this point. Between being late to everything, agreeing of her own volition to work in the twins' shop, and forgetting about the appointment entirely, she was certain at this point that she was beginning to crack under the pressure.
She hadn't the time to answer because Eugene came barreling around the corner and chucked a — well, she had no idea what in the hell it was because she's never seen it before — but he chucked it right at her head. She ducked at the very last minute and she heard Ginny screech in surprise when it hit her full in the face.
Eugene froze in horror when Hermione stood slowly to look at Ginny, who was dripping in something green and slimy mixed with the Pygmy Puff "chocolate" Hermione had been concerned about earlier, and a lot of glitter. It had to have been of Eugene's own concoction because she'd not known the twins to possess any product that looked like glittering bogies.
Ginny took in a slow breath, dragging her hands across her eyes and letting the material splat onto the floor.
"I assume this is the demon," she said, good-naturedly despite being covered in what Hermione could only pray was not bogies of the literal sense.
She opened her mouth to answer, looking back af Eugene, who was standing still in abject horror as if he couldn't quite believe he'd hit someone other than Hermione. She didn't know if it was the ridiculousness of his expression or the fact that Ginny had green slime dripping from her nostrils, but it was not words that came out of her mouth when she opened it.
She dissolved into a fit of giggles, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise in horror. She had never — not once in her life — laughed at the expense of another person's misfortune. Well, except for Malfoy, which one could argue was more than deserved.
Both Eugene and Ginny looked at her as if she'd grown a third head.
"God, I'm sorry," Hermione giggled. "I have no idea what's gotten into me today. I didn't sleep well and — you look hideous."
Ginny snorted, searching her purse for her wand with a roll of her eyes.
"That's quite enough," she said, pulling her wand out just as Fred and George were rounding the corner, clearly looking for their blonde mini me.
They paused at the sight of their sister, their surprise turning into amusement, grins spreading immediately when Eugene scrambled behind them, peeking out between their legs as if he half expected Ginny to lose her head on him entirely.
Hermione rolled her eyes — he had no qualms throwing it at her, but other customers he saw an issue with.
She was never having children. It had been settled.
"I must say, Ginny, you really should take more care with your appearance," Fred said, tutting impatiently.
George snorted, reaching out to point at her forehead.
"Yeah, you've got something just there," he said, his lips twitching. Ginny smacked his hand away from her face with an eye roll, waving her wand so that the offending…whatever it had been…disappeared without a trace. "What even is it?"
Eugene answered in a whisper as if he hoped Ginny might not hear him.
"Supposed to be unicorn bogies," he said, sending Fred into a fit of snickering. "Was supposed to hit Hermione —"
Hermione glared at him, but Ginny spoke before she could tell the little boy that he was the most ill-behaved human being she'd ever had the displeasure of meeting.
"Unless you all want to be covered in bat bogies, I suggest you wipe those smirks off of your faces," she said with an eye roll. "Hermione and I are running a bit behind as it is."
George raised an eyebrow at her in question, and she grimaced apologetically.
"It's nothing," Hermione said hastily. "I'll reschedule. I completely forgot about it and —"
"She can't reschedule," Ginny interrupted. "Mungo's is booked for a month and the Ministry timeline is tight enough as it is. You can have her back tomorrow. Unless you'd like to have two weeks to make a baby with her? In which case, I suppose we could reschedule and Fred and I will just leave you two to it —"
Hermione flushed a deep scarlet at the implication, particularly when Fred grinned at her and waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her. George snorted, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
"You're making a baby with her?" Eugene said in disgust. "She doesn't even let me eat U-No-Poo cookies whenever I want. She said she doesn't even know how to make them."
Ginny gave Hermione a look that was clearly intended to convey a 'how could you' message and Hermione rolled her eyes at her.
"I'd rather he set this store on fire than listen to him complain about his stomach hurting," Hermione said by way of explanation. "He's horrible enough when he's in a good mood."
"That's sweet, Hermione," Ginny joked. "But save something for your own children."
"I might not even be able to have children, you know," she said with an eye roll. "We haven't done the testing yet."
"You'll be able to have children," Ginny said with an eye roll. "Don't go into it thinking like that."
"George might not be able to —"
Ginny laughed before she could even finish.
"Yeah, you know, I heard Weasleys have a very hard time procreating," she said sarcastically. "They're nearly extinct."
Hermione snorted.
"Would you quit being ridiculous? I'm working —"
"Just go," George said, waving her off. "Ginny's right. It's a nightmare in that place, and I don't really fancy putting the wedding off —"
"He's not complaining about the baby-making either, I'll bet," Fred said with a large grin. George hit him upside the head when Hermione immediately began fidgeting awkwardly. "What? She's going to have to get used to —"
"Are you going to make a baby in the workroom?"
They all blinked at Eugene as if they couldn't quite understand the question. George recovered quickly, grinning widely.
"No," George said. "That's not how it works."
"Although, they probably could —" Ginny said, grinning widely.
"Ginny!" Hermione said, wishing desperately that she'd simply told the twins that she was leaving and been done with it. "Don't suggest such things in front of a child, for Merlin's sake!"
"Is it the child being present that doesn't make you want to make a baby in the workroom or the workroom itself?" Fred said, grinning widely.
"We're really not that close, Fred," she deadpanned, wincing when she realized that that made it sound like she wasn't entirely opposed to having sex in their workroom. Based on Fred's grin and George's raised eyebrow, they found the words as equally implicating as she was thinking they sounded. She was sincerely hoping the ground would swallow her up — particularly because she had not even considered the fact that she and George would have to have children together. It was easier that way. Far, far easier. "That's not what he meant anyway!" She added hastily. "He thinks you're going to mix a few potions together and make a child and that's now how you do it!"
"Well then how do you make one? Maybe if I make one then Cassie won't have to marry Butt-Chin Brandon."
Ginny covered her mouth with her hand and Hermione groaned painfully. She shouldn't have said a thing — she was making the entire thing far worse.
George took pity on her, grabbing Eugene under the arms and lifting him to sit on his shoulders.
"Sorry, mate, but that's way above our pay grade," he said, waving Hermione and Ginny off. "Now go. We've wasted about fifteen minutes of peace talking to you two, and we're going to get bombarded again any moment."
"But I —"
"Go, Hermione," Fred said, waving her off good-naturedly. "We'll be alright. You can make it up to us later. We particularly enjoy eating, though I suppose we'll leave the details up to you."
She snorted, giving them an apologetic look but following after Ginny. She felt a bit bad leaving them to handle the dinner rush, but they really didn't appear totally concerned.
"Oh, and if you do use the workroom, sanitize the place afterward," Fred called after her, much to her mortification. "I work in there!"
She heard George's less than pleasant words in response, Fred's cackling, and Eugene's additional questions, but she'd already raced from the store before she could hear anything else, grabbing Ginny by the wrist and tugging her out hastily.
She hadn't been to St. Mungo's in a very long time. Since her fifth year when Mr. Weasley had been attacked by Nagini. She'd been invited to come back, of course. After the war, when people had been injured and on the edge of death, the Ministry had thought that the Golden Trio could raise spirits by visiting those that were hanging on, comforting loved ones after their loss, being the face of the movement forward.
She'd refused. Something she still felt particularly guilty about because those people had believed in her. Had needed support and encouragement. Perhaps even a reason to live, to keep fighting.
She hadn't been up to mustering it though. She didn't want to be the face of anything, and after years of fighting by her best friend's side for something better, she'd merely wanted to fade into the background. She'd wanted to pretend like she couldn't see the gaping wound that Voldemort and his followers had left behind, even in death. She'd wanted to pretend like she wasn't teetering on the edge of mental breakdown just as much as the people who had been being treated. All of that was much easier to do when she avoided the hospital.
So she had — Harry and Ron had gone without her to visit patients, and she'd sent owls, personalized to each person, wishing them well and praying that they left the hospital alive and well.
Being there now made her heart race for reasons that she didn't understand. A wave of guilt and nausea hitting her so abruptly that she nearly wanted to make a run for it, and that was before they even stepped into the building.
The large, old-fashioned, red brick department store called Purge and Dowse Ltd. was exactly the same as she remembered. It had the same shabby, miserable air to it, the window display consisting of a few chipped dummies with their wigs half-off, standing at random and modeling fashions that were at least ten years out of date. They'd always freaked her out, and she tried not to look at them too closely as she followed Ginny to the window that displayed nothing but a female dummy whose false eyelashes were hanging off and was modeling a green nylon pinafore dress.
"We've got appointments for Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger," Ginny said, not at all bothered by how ridiculous she looked speaking to an inanimate object.
Despite the bustling noise of people and buses and traffic around them, the dummy heard her quite clearly, nodding at her and beckoning her finger creepily. Hermione grimaced and stepped through the glass with her friend, feeling like she'd stepped through a sheet of cold water, but she emerged warm and dry on the other side.
The reception area was crowded where rows of witches and wizards sat upon rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectly normal and others sprouting new limbs or hair in places that it did not belong in such quantities. The room was as loud as the street had been, some people chattering, Healers walking down the rows and speaking to patients, scribbling things on the clipboard in front of them. Others were making odd noises — quacking, mooing, groaning, coughing, hissing. One person sounded like a train whistle every time he opened his mouth, and she worked not to stare. She also worked particularly hard not to listen to the quite embarrassing stories of the people ahead of them in the queue to reception.
"We're here for fertility testing —"
"Fifth floor," the receptionist said dismissively. Hermione was tempted to scowl at her — she was much older so it was likely that she wasn't altogether concerned by the fact that they were being subjected to invasive testing for no reason at all other than an intrusive political environment; she didn't have to marry someone against her will.
Before she could get too bent out of shape about the fact that the woman was clearly unsympathetic to their plight — and had horrible people skills, though Hermione likely shouldn't have been the one to point that out — Ginny had grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her after her through the double doors at the other side of the room and into a much quieter corridor lined with portraits of famous Healers and lit by crystal bubbles full of candles that floated up to the ceiling.
The fifth floor Fertility and Maternity Ward was much quieter, though no less packed than the reception area had been. Every chair was taken, some people even beginning to congregate around the walls and check-in desk. The chairs here were far more comfortable looking, plush cushions in a lilac purple. The walls were a watercolor-esque blue and pink, a smattering of end tables and a round coffee table in the middle of the room, all pure white in color, sparkling clean, and piled high with magazines and old newspapers.
Hermione tried not to think about the reason she was here as Ginny checked them in as if she had not a care in the world.
The woman smiled at them in understanding, handing each of them a pamphlet that was lilac in color.
"Have a seat wherever you'd like," she said kindly. "It'll be some time. We're a bit swamped trying to get everyone in before the deadlines," she pointed at the pamphlets in their hands. "Feel free to go over this while you wait. It goes into detail about what tests we'll be running and what you can expect while you're here. If you have any concerns, feel free to ask."
Hermione had quite a few concerns, but she was certain the receptionist wouldn't be able to assist with them, so instead, she followed Ginny, who snagged a pair of seats immediately after two women were called back to their own exams. She tried not to shuffle anxiously as the silence of the room descended on them. Ginny thumbed through the pamphlet in front of her, but Hermione felt sick at the prospect of doing so.
She still wasn't quite sure that she'd really wrapped her head around the entire thing. She was here for the most ridiculous, preposterous reason she could think of. It was clear who else was here for the same reason — some of the women around her age were looking down as if meeting eye contact with anyone might send them into a spiral. There were men who were standing alone, shuffling awkwardly and avoiding eye contact. There was a pang of longing when she eyed the few couples who were clearly here for pregnancy check-ups, seeming happy and content and as excited by their appointments as Hermione was dreading her own.
"Hermione, it's just an exam," Ginny said, attempting to sound gentle.
"An exam I didn't sign up for," she grumbled, looking at her friend. "This is easier for you. You wanted to marry Harry —"
"I didn't want to have children," Ginny said bluntly. Hermione winced. "Not yet. And don't get me wrong, I'm glad that it's Harry, but I'm not any happier about this than you are. Nor is anyone else who's here against their will. Read the pamphlet. It'll help."
She wanted to apologize because she probably shouldn't have made a snide remark about the fact that Ginny was going to be marrying a man she loved. It changed things enough to even the playing field maybe, but she wasn't in that much greater of position. And Hermione had to remind herself daily that she was lucky to have ended up with George. Perhaps she didn't know him well, and she didn't love him, but she knew him. She loved his family. His family loved her. All things considered, it could have been much worse.
So she took a deep breath and leafed through the pamphlet. There was a lot of testing required to check fertility and she tried not to think too much about each one. It was unusual to go through such testing for Muggles — typically, it wasn't necessary unless someone was having trouble conceiving. It wasn't particularly done for the sake of discovering if it was possible to have children, though she supposed that this situation were so absurd that it hardly mattered.
She read the pamphlet three times before she decided that she understood the entire thing front to back. When she sighed heavily and set the pamphlet down, Ginny was flipping through a Quidditch magazine lazily. There were new faces in the waiting room, but it remained as crowded as before, people appearing through the doors as soon as others were called back to see a Healer.
"Better?" Ginny asked without looking up from the page she was reading.
"Yeah," Hermione breathed, clearing her throat. "Thanks."
It was true that knowledge tended to relax her, and though she could feel the anxiety creeping in still, it was easier to breathe through now. Less debilitating. The fact that Ginny knew that reading through the pamphlet would have helped her warmed her a little as well, beating back some of her sad thoughts.
"How are things with George then?" Ginny said, throwing her magazine back on the coffee table before them and crossing her legs as they waited. Hermione didn't particularly want to discuss her relationship with George, but she knew that Ginny was trying to distract from her own anxieties and Hermione couldn't deny her that reprieve. Especially when younger girl had helped keep her head screwed on the last few weeks.
"Fine," she said shortly. "The same as always. I don't think we've really changed much."
Ginny eyed her curiously, looking as though she wanted to say something, but chose not to.
"You've been enjoying the shop though," she said, changing the subject entirely. "To be honest, I bet Harry you'd have quit by now."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"It's not so bad," she said. "The twins are ridiculous, but Verity is sweet. And it keeps me busy, you know. Not thinking about Ron and Romilda and what they're up to." She paused, hoping that Ginny might tell her something about her brother, but the younger girl merely looked at her expectantly, and Hermione sighed and continued, "And they're quite intelligent. I mean, I knew they weren't stupid, but it's interesting watching them plan and create. I get a bit wrapped up in listening to them talk theory sometimes."
Ginny smirked, raising an eyebrow.
"Is that why you came back late last night?" she said. "Or were you swooning at him —"
"First of all, I do not swoon," Hermione said primly, ignoring Ginny's laugh. "But yes. He's talking about glow in the dark chewing gum. It's a bit intriguing, of course. I've never considered using a Lumos charm for that particular — what?"
Ginny was grinning at her widely, looking like the cat who'd eaten the canary.
"Nothing," she said nonchalantly. "I'm just happy you're enjoying yourself. I haven't seen you so passionate in awhile." Hermione furrowed her brow. She's always been passionate, so she had no idea what that meant. Ginny kept speaking before she could press. "Fred and George are underestimated. Don't tell any of the others I said this, but I think they might be the smartest of us all. Percy might have a fit if he caught wind I thought that."
"They didn't try in school," Hermione said, the words confusing her like no other. How was it possible that they had been drop outs, but had the knowledge of spells not taught within the walls of Hogwarts?
Ginny snorted.
"Intelligence is more than just reading books and repeating them verbatim, Hermione," she said dryly. "The twins have a hard time fitting a mold. School was boring for them — there was no opportunity to bend the applications of spells or be creative. They're intelligent in their own way. Same as you."
She didn't quite understand it. She'd never known anything other than book smarts, and the fact that the Weasley twins were more than met the eye sincerely floored her.
"How much did you lose then?" She said instead of conveying this. Ginny raised an eyebrow. "In the bet with Harry. How much money did you lose?"
Ginny smirked.
"No one said anything about money," she said, laughing when Hermione covered her ears hastily.
"No, no, no," she said quickly. "I don't want to know."
"Prude," Ginny said jokingly.
Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but she froze completely when her name was called out by a blonde, petite Healer from the other side of the room. Her entire heart started to beat faster.
Ginny covered her hand with her own, squeezing lightly.
"Go on," she said. "I'll see you when you're done."
Hermione nodded, standing and walking over to the woman at the door as though she were totally detached from her body.
The woman smiled at her kindly and led her back down another corridor, the walls lined with more famous healers, the silence beginning to push in on her from all sides.
The room she was ushered into was plain — one small window, a bed with crisp white sheets and pillows and stirrups that she largely tried to ignore, and a desk with a clipboard in the corner. There was a chair in the corner next to the table, likely for visitors, and Hermione couldn't tell if having Ginny in here with her would have been comforting or mortifying.
"Go ahead and sit on the bed for me, Hermione," the Hesler said kindly. She was young, her hair a dirty blonde color and pulled into a high pony. She wore the typical lime green robes, the symbol of St. Mungo's — a bone and wand, crossed — showing over one side of her chest. She took a seat at the chair in front of the desk, turning to face her with a sort of serenity that Hermione wished she could manage at the moment. "How are you?"
"I — well, I — fine," she said, surprised by the concern she saw in the woman's eyes.
She nodded, her eyes scrutinizing her in a way that made her feel like she could see right through the lie.
"I'm Healer Spartan. You can call me Kayleigh," she said confidently. "I know this is a bit of an odd situation, so I want to make sure you're as comfortable as possible before we do anything else. We're going to get very comfortable with each other in the next few years, and I'm going to ask you quite a few personal questions." Hermione nodded, trying not to let her anxiety show too easily on her face. When she didn't say anything, Kayleigh continued speaking, "You've been paired already, yes?"
Hermione nodded.
"Any concerns with your partner at all?" She said gently. "You feel safe?"
Hermione blinked at her in surprise, some of her tension relaxing slightly.
"Yes, he's — we've known each other for awhile," she said quietly, her heart pounding in her throat.
Kayleigh nodded.
"Good," she said, smiling at her widely. "That's good. I'll ask you that every time that you come in here, so if that changes, let me know. There are few ways around the law, but your safety is my top priority, so any concerns you have at all — pregnancy related or otherwise — we'll handle it as they come."
The words made her want to cry. She didn't know what she'd expected — something overly clinical and dismissive, someone who merely wanted to cross their t's and dot their i's to comply with the law — but having someone care so deeply and openly about the process made it feel less overwhelming. A little less lonely.
"Right then," Kayleigh said, turning toward the desk on her chair, grabbing a quill to jot things down. "Now to the more awkward stuff, I'm afraid. Are you sexually active?"
"No," Hermione said.
"First day of your last period?"
How in the hell would she remember that? It came and went like clockwork, that's all she knew, but she provided an estimate.
"Any potions that you're taking regularly? Anything you're allergic to?"
"No," she said.
Kayleigh nodded, standing and waving her wand around her. There were several numbers that appeared above her head and Kayleigh jotted them down.
"Vitals are good," she said, reaching into a drawer and drawing out a vial of something sparkly and gold and a robe of a pale pink color. "I'll have you drink this, if you could. And then I'm going to step out for a moment to let you undress from the waist down. I'll go over everything before we do the testing and let you know what next steps will look like, alright?"
Hermione nodded, her nervousness coming back again, but she followed the directions she'd been given. The potion was overly sweet and made her want to gag, and she awkwardly stripped before sitting on the edge of the bed awkwardly, looking around the room in the quiet that followed.
Diagrams of dilation and childbirth were somewhat alarming, so she avoided looking at those too long for the sake of her sanity. Others of symptoms and warnings to take daily potions on time were less alarming. Except the diagrams for dilation and childbirth were moving and very difficult to ignore.
Because there was no chance she was going to be able to do that —
She jumped a mile in the air when there was a knock on the door, and Kayleigh reentered, smiling cheerfully.
"Alright, so I'll try to be quick with all of this," she said, "We'll do a blood and urine sample before you leave to check for ovulation and hormone levels. Based on your last period, you should be ovulating about now, but everyone's body is a little bit different. We'll keep track of your cycle on our end to help with any fertility concerns or issues you might have later. Then we'll go ahead and check the fallopian tubes, ovaries, and uterus to make sure there's nothing concerning there. You aren't sexually active but we'll still test for STDs as they can impact fertility as well. If you have any concerns during the testing process or you're uncomfortable or in pain in any way, just let me know, alright?"
She nodded, watching her carefully as she performed the testing. The potion she'd given her allowed her to collect blood samples into small vials, and she noted results on her clipboard after each spell she ran over them. Hermione didn't understand the numbers that appeared, and Kayleigh's voice remained blank as she noted them on her clipboard.
Hermione knew less about the images that Kayleigh used to look at her organs, although there was some interest in watching the images flicker above her until they faded again. More notes, and then her least favorite part of every female exam. Less intrusive with magic but still quite awkward in terms of the fact that there was someone down there who really didn't need to be.
By the time that she'd been sent off to take a urine test and returned, she was tense again, her body thrumming anxiously and she sincerely hoped that this was the last of these appointments she'd be needing for quite some time.
Kayleigh was sitting at the desk when she returned, looking up at her from her clipboard the moment she sat back on the bed.
"Alright, Hermione, I've no concerns here," she said happily. "Everything looks good, and you're perfectly healthy. You aren't married yet, so there's no need to begin trying to conceive if you aren't ready to. You can take a contraceptive potion once every two weeks until the day of your marriage. Make sure that you stop taking it two weeks before to comply with the law. Most women your age will conceive within one year if they're having regular, unprotected sex, and I've no concerns that that will be difficult for you, but we'll keep monitoring things once you're married. Since you are fertile as far as I can see on my end, I'll send notification to the Ministry. Assuming your partner has no concerns, you'll be expected to comply with the deadlines for marriage and conception. I'll do what I can to help with anything that you need during that process. Now once they get that information, they'll assign you a Union Inspector, who will contact you and your partner for additional questions or concerns in regards to the law. It's possible that they may require additional testing, but I'll do my best to convince them that's not necessary so we can avoid any unnecessary appointments. Questions?"
Hermione shook her head, unsure if that feeling in her stomach was dread or relief. Perhaps a mixture of both. She could have children which was great, but now there was no doubt in her mind that she had to go through with this.
She had to marry George Weasley, and she had no doubt that the entire experience was going to be chaos from here.
The exciting stuff is coming now, friends. As a side note, I don't have children so as far as exams for that sort of thing go, I'm really about as in the dark as you could be, so apologies in advance if it isn't horribly realistic. I'm trying to remember any doctor appointment I've ever gone to, but I can barely remember what I ate for lunch, so it's a about as useless as you'd expect.
Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! Be safe out there and enjoy time with your families! I adore each and every one of you!