All the Kings… Siblings
(All of Harry Potter and anything related to it are the sole property of J.K. Rowling.)
Part 3. Hermione Granger-Weasley (January, 2005)
I walked into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, bundled up against the blistering January cold, yet still grateful it was Thursday, and I could enjoy six glorious hours out of the house.
Every Thursday, I worked here in the main shop in Diagon Alley, except on the second Thursday of the month, when I had an extra hour out of the house. On those Thursdays, I had to visit the Ministry to see the Unspeakables and would have lunch with Percy and occasionally Harry. However, I was rarely away from the shop for more than an hour and a half. Recently, it had been even less, with Percy away and Harry too busy with cases to stop for a long lunch.
"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," the young witch with brunette hair, clad in a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes bright magenta uniform, greeted me as I stepped through the door. She was restocking a shelf by hand because the twins didn't allow it to be done with magic. A handful of their more sensitive products could activate if exposed to too much magic. To prevent any mishaps, they had instituted a policy of minimising the use of wanded magic by employees in the store to avoid becoming complacent and making mistakes.
"It's Granger-Weasley," I corrected the witch, as I often found myself having to do with people.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't realise," the witch said with a friendly smile. "The bosses are waiting for you in their office." I nodded, though I couldn't help but think she should have known my name by now, considering it was the second time I had to correct her.
I was in the process of unwinding my scarf as I entered the office, only to be greeted by the sight of the twins, grinning broadly at me as they leant casually against their large desk. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at them, as it was abundantly clear they had taken my words from the day before as a challenge.
I had pointed out that their appearances had subtle differences, which were quite apparent if one took the time to look. Today, they appeared to have taken particular care in dressing in their Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes suits, ensuring their hands were behind their backs and their hair was combed in exactly the same way, not a strand out of place. Neither of them spoke a word, likely because I had mentioned that Fred usually initiated most of their conversations.
After removing my scarf and winter robe, I crossed the room to them. Walking up, I first kissed the one standing on the left on his cheek, saying, 'George,' then kissed the other on his cheek and said, 'Fred.' They both roared with laughter, a truly joyous sound that made me smile. I moved around the desk, still amused by them as they watched me put my things down on the shelf behind it.
"Were you this big last week?" Fred asked me as I settled into the desk chair.
"She wasn't, brother of mine; we'd definitely remember that!" George teased, pointing playfully at my pregnant belly.
"You do realise that pointing is considered impolite, don't you?" I remarked, noticing the jar with an orange, watery liquid inside. I knew they would explain its contents shortly. They seemed to enjoy teasing me a bit before leaving me to my work. I wasn't sure why they found it so amusing, but I was so grateful for the adult conversation that I didn't particularly mind.
"Gives my finger something to do," he replied with a cheeky grin.
"I was serious, though. Are you sure you're only three months pregnant? You look like you're smuggling a Quaffle under there," Fred commented.
"Not sure, Forge; it might just be a Bludger," George told his brother.
Ignoring the teasing words, I focused on the serious question. "Fourteen weeks, and yes, I'm sure," I replied with a teasing grin of my own. I saw them exchange one of their speaking glances. "And I hardly look big enough yet to be compared to either a Quaffle or a Bludger, but for your information, I'm having twins," I told them. The shock had worn off after a full week of knowing, and Ron had been ecstatic.
"Twins," George remarked. The twins exchanged a curious glance, one that conveyed so much but only between the two of them.
"Twins! Can you believe it, George? The Weasley legacy of double trouble lives on!"
"Isn't that the Prewett legacy?" I asked them.
"We're a legacy all on our own, baby," Fred told me with a wink. I laughed at his antic.
"So, Hermione, any names yet? Fred and George Jr., maybe?" George asked, grinning.
"Actually, Ron suggested Fabian and Gideon," I told them. Their eyes lit up at that.
"Mum would be over the moon, but brace yourself for a flood of tears," Fred warned with a grin.
"And the sudden inability to breathe," George added with a sly smirk. I didn't need him to elaborate to know he was talking about his mum's hugs. I chuckled, but I was ready to get to work. My eyes moved back to the jar of orange liquid sitting prominently on the desk.
"Do you intend to explain what this is?" I inquired, gesturing toward the jar.
Mischievous grins spread across the faces of the twins, and Fred leant in closer, lowering his voice as if to share a secret. "Ah, Hermione, that's one of our latest inventions. But let's just say it's still in the experimental phase."
George chimed in, his eyes twinkling with the thrill of potential mischief. "It's a work in progress, but we're hoping it'll be our next big hit." Their enthusiasm was infectious, and despite the teasing, I couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity about their new project.
"And it is here because?" I prompted.
"We're hoping to test it on you," Fred told me. I stared at him for a moment. I was not usually a test subject.
"Tell me what it is first," I said suspiciously, making them laugh again.
"Air freshener," they told me in unison, but the looks on their faces were devious.
"Air freshener?" I repeated, sceptical.
"Privacy spray, if you will?" Fred added.
"We're thinking of calling it 'Eau de No-Go,'" George added.
"It's going to smell bad, isn't it?" I asked them, and their grins grew even wider.
"Not if you open the jar," Fred told me.
"What does that mean?" I asked them.
"If it works like we hope, it'll smell lovely to the person who sets it off, but everyone else will get a whiff of something that's repellent to them," George explained happily.
"I refuse to smell something that reeks like an outhouse that has never been cleaned," I told them, making them laugh again.
"You've got us all wrong," Fred informed me, amusement evident in his tone.
"Where's your subtlety, woman?" George queried, feigning a hurt expression. I found myself shaking my head at them yet again, a gesture that seemed to have become rather habitual.
"The smell's gotta be something the owner would naturally like, but it's so strong that any unwanted visitor would leg it the moment they catch a whiff," Fred explained to me.
"It sounds like a reverse Amortentia Potion," I commented, looking at the substance with intrigue.
"Where do you reckon we got the idea from?" they asked in unison again, their eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Alright, I'll be your guinea pig today, but I'm warning you—if I smell anything that could conceivably come out of the human body, I won't speak to either of you for a week," I said, quite seriously, though I knew they could detect the amusement in my tone.
"Noted," they said in unison. Fred leant over the desk, pushed the jar a little closer to me, and unscrewed the cap. Immediately, the room was engulfed by the potent aroma of lavender and bananas. I'd never been particularly fond of either, but during my pregnancies, the scents had made me vomit on more than one occasion.
"Oh, no. No," I said, pushing away from the desk, needing to distance myself from the odour. I quickly got to my feet and hurried out of the office.
"Maybe a tad too potent, wouldn't you say, brother of mine?" George commented to his twin as they trailed in my wake. A smattering of customers were perusing the shop, and the young witch was attending to another at the counter.
"It was fine; I simply have a very sensitive stomach these days," I told them with a hint of irony. "What did you smell?" I inquired of them, even as we continued to move away from the office.
"Fireworks and hot sugar," they chorused with identical, pleased grins spreading across their faces. I couldn't help but smile at the boyish charm of their expression.
"Let's head up to the flat for a bit. We've got something we wanted to chat with you about anyway," Fred told me. I nodded and headed for the stairs, eager to escape the office and its offensive aroma.
"You've got the store, Mandy," George called out to the witch as we began to ascend them.
"Yes, boss," she responded affirmatively with a nod.
"Do you have anything in mind for the packaging for your air freshener?" I asked, genuinely intrigued. It really was a creative idea, and I could easily imagine myself purchasing it back when I was sharing a dorm with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.
"An enchanted potion bottle of some sort, but we're still in the testing phase," George informed me, his tone serious yet excited about the potential of their new product.
"Remember, you mentioned wanting to make more of your products Squib-friendly. Perhaps you could look into Muggle canisters to help you decide how to use it," I suggested, just as we reached the door at the top of the landing.
"And you wonder why we wanted you here?" Fred said with a shake of his head. I smiled at him, appreciating the compliment, and opened the door. Percy was pacing the room and looked up at the same time.
"Percy!" I exclaimed excitedly, my voice filled with joy. I launched myself into his open arms, holding him tightly. His familiar scent and the warmth of his embrace brought a sense of comfort and relief to me.
"I think I'm feeling slighted, brother," Fred told George.
"Maybe we need to leave the country for a few days," George suggested.
"Oh, be quiet, you two," I replied, though my attention was still on Percy as he smiled down at me. "What are you doing here?" I asked, releasing him and taking a step back.
"It is my day off, and I found myself quite missing your company," he informed me.
"That's sweet," I said, and dragged him over to the table while the twins went into their little kitchenette to start on tea. "Can you come to dinner tonight? You can tell me all about what you are doing for the Aurors."
"Naturally, I would be delighted to join you for dinner," he concurred with ease.
"Before you head out, Perce, we want to show you something in the storeroom," Fred said, placing the sugar and milk on the table next to the napkins their mum had gotten for them.
"We want to know what you're doing for the Aurors," George commented, levitating four teacups onto the table along with a large plate of biscuits.
"It is quite fascinating, really…" Percy began, but Fred interrupted.
"You know, Perce, most folks would call working with the Aurors exciting."
"Or a right snoozefest, considering your Ministry work," George quipped, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"I hardly find my professional pursuits to be boring, though I concede that the term 'exciting' could be aptly applied to certain aspects of my current endeavours. I am currently engaged in a collaborative effort with a curse-breaker of considerable skill. Her role is to meticulously investigate a range of items for potential curses. Whilst I am tasked with the thorough perusal of all documents we encounter as well as any the Aurors present me with their own findings," he told them.
"Are you allowed to disclose the location of where you are working?" I inquired while wondering if that witch was pretty.
"I'm afraid not, but I can tell you that the Aurors have successfully dismantled a significant smuggling ring. They were trafficking primarily in artefacts but also in illegal potions and endangered creatures," he shared with me.
"What does that have to do with magical transport?" Fred asked, looking genuinely puzzled.
Percy adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses, a hint of pride in his posture. "Well, you see, the smuggling ring utilised various illegal magical transport methods to move their goods. Portkeys, unauthorised apparition points, even enchanted vehicles. Part of my job is to unravel how they did it to prevent future breaches of that nature."
"That sounds incredibly important. Ensuring such methods don't fall into the wrong hands is essential," I agreed, a sense of pride washing over me for him, and he smiled at me.
"Right," George said with a touch of… something in his voice. I furrowed my brow in his direction, but before I could inquire if he was alright, Fred began to speak.
"Yes, we had another reason for dragging you up here, and it's got nothing to do with 'Perfect Prefect Percy'," Fred chimed in, teasing him with the name they had used often years ago.
"Alright," I said, turning my attention back to them.
Gaining my attention once more with a gentle hand on my arm, Percy urged, "Please, Hermione, do hear them out before you respond."
"You know about this?" I asked, my voice tinged with surprise. He nodded, then turned his gaze back to the twins.
"Ron's been offered a spot on the next England team to play in the Quidditch World Cup," they said in unison, their voices serious. Instantly, my heart began to race. I could feel the pulse in my neck pounding, and I was grateful to be sitting down as I might have fainted. Percy took the hand that was resting on the table by my teacup and gave it a reassuring squeeze, drawing my eyes back to him.
"We are of the opinion that you should allow him to take it," Percy conveyed gently. I covered my mouth with my free hand, feeling a whirlwind of emotions, none of them pleasant.
"I presume he enlisted your help to speak to me because he knew I wouldn't be pleased," I managed to say, feeling the threat of tears welling up.
"He didn't ask us to say anything," George said, his voice and expression full of sympathy.
Fred's voice was soft but earnest as he said, "Hermione, we get it; you have your reservations, and they're totally valid. But this... this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for Ron."
Percy nodded in agreement. "He has exerted considerable effort toward this, Hermione. It extends beyond the mere act of playing Quidditch. It's about the honour of representing his country, of being an integral component of something greater." I felt the weight of their words, but it didn't matter. I didn't trust Ron, and I honestly couldn't see how it could possibly work.
"No, I can't," I declared, shaking my head as a lone tear slipped down my cheek. I quickly dabbed it away with a napkin I had picked up from the table's centre. "You all are well aware of why I can't."
"He's miserable, Hermione. Your relationship is already under constant strain," George said, compassion thick in his voice.
"Wouldn't it be better to let him prove himself to you before his misery drives him to do something regrettable again, just because he let his better judgement slip?" Fred asked gently. I broke down in tears, unable to process what I was hearing. Percy gently pulled me into another hug, and I buried my face in his chest, my sobs a testament to the pain I was feeling.
"He loves you, Hermione, but it is an undeniable fact that he possesses a self-centred disposition, especially when it comes to his insecurities. One cannot truly attain happiness in life if they deny their true nature," Percy murmured into my hair, his words barely more than a whisper. My tears only intensified, knowing his words held truth. All three of them were correct, but it hurt so badly to know I couldn't keep Ron happy. They all remained silent, allowing me to cry until I could get a hold of myself, and when I looked back at the twins across the table, they appeared as pained as I felt.
"We swear, between the three of us—" Fred began, his voice steady as he pointed at his brothers.
"—we'd never let you endure a moment of pain," George finished. For a moment, I was confused by what he meant by that, as my heart was currently aching quite a lot.
"My superior happens to be an ardent admirer of Quidditch. When I mentioned that my brother could potentially be a part of the forthcoming World Cup team, he was positively ecstatic. It appears he was already quite taken with 'The Weasley King!'" Percy remarked with a hint of sarcasm. "However, to be absolutely clear, I did inform him you have an ongoing health situation which necessitates his ability to travel at a moment's notice. He has graciously consented to provide Ron with an Emergency International Portkey in return for a ticket to one of his matches." My mouth dropped open in astonishment. Not only were those Portkeys incredibly expensive, but they were usually reserved solely for diplomats.
"This really would be good for him, you know. And you two aren't bringing in as many Galleons as you used to. Ron could make a fortune in just that one season," Fred said, his voice tinged with concern.
"Especially if they make it to the grand final and win," George finished.
"I don't care about money," I told them miserably.
"You've got twins on the way, baby. That little cottage just won't cut it, and it's only going to get tougher. You know that," Fred said gently, a hint of worry in his eyes. I did know that, and it worried me greatly.
"Harry and Ginny were kind enough to extend an invitation for us to reside with them. But I have already declined the offer. They have James, and I am aware they are planning for another baby soon. They also have their own lifestyle, and I do not wish to impose upon that," I explained. They all simply nodded in agreement.
"Hermione, there is an additional matter I wish to discuss with you. However, I must insist that you do not misconstrue this as a further endeavour to influence your decision. This is entirely unrelated to whatever conclusion you may reach regarding Ron," Percy conveyed to me.
"What is it?" I asked, wiping my hot, tear-stained face.
"Two distinct opportunities to pursue Masteries," he informed me. From my peripheral vision, I could discern that the twins were equally taken aback by his words.
"I can't pursue a Mastery, not at this juncture. Perhaps not ever," I responded, a wave of self-pity washing over me even as a flicker of hope ignited within.
"Allow me to provide you with some pertinent details before you make your decision," Percy said, turning a bit more to face me fully.
"Alright," I agreed, not seeing the harm.
"The first opportunity pertains to the study of Runes with an old schoolmate of Bill's. You may have been introduced to him at Bill and Fleur's wedding—Norville Rogers?" Percy inquired. I shook my head; the name was not familiar. "To label this wizard as relaxed would be a gross understatement," Percy remarked with a heavy note of disapproval, but continued, "However, he is exceptionally talented in his field. He currently has three apprentices under his tutelage."
"How could he possibly take on another when he already has so many?" I asked, momentarily forgetting that I couldn't take the position anyway.
"I shall address that in a moment. The second opportunity is in the field of Arithmancy, under the guidance of a rather elderly wizard who has never before mentored an apprentice. It wasn't due to a lack of desire, as I understand, but rather a scarcity of applications. Envision, if you will, a wizard akin to Severus Snape in demeanour, save for the fact that this old wizard is fond of people and doesn't seem to comprehend that his words offend people," he elucidated. I found myself at a loss for what to make of this. "Both Masters are amenable to you pursuing your studies via correspondence, although Arithmancy Master Elton would appreciate your presence once a month. To say he doesn't receive guests would be a gross understatement."
"Oh," I said, taken aback. However, another concern soon surfaced. "I lack the financial means to undertake an apprenticeship," I confessed. I had found it peculiar that in the magical world, it was the apprentice who paid the Master. Yet, it had been pointed out to me that all forms of education cost money, and I hadn't expected to attend Hogwarts and be paid for my attendance.
"Maybe that's another reason to let Ron join the team," George suggested.
"But you know, in the meantime, we wouldn't mind footing the bill for you," Fred offered, knowing I wouldn't simply take money from them without an agreement of repayment.
"If you value my opinion, I would advocate for you to accept the apprenticeship under the tutelage of Arithmancy Master Elton. He is 106, retired, and in need of some intellectual stimulation, and I am confident that you could manage him without any difficulty. Conversely, Rogers isn't likely to retire or move on anytime soon, and should you desire to acquire another Mastery after the first, you could then submit an application at that juncture. I have no doubt he would relish the prestige of having the illustrious Hermione Granger as one of his students," Percy conveyed to me.
"Thank you, Percy," I expressed sincerely, my voice filled with genuine gratitude. I felt truly touched by his kindness. I then shifted my gaze across the table toward the twins. "And to both of you, thank you for your generous offer to lend me the money. I'll give it some thought," I assured them.
"And the other thing?" Fred asked, his eyes still filled with concern for me.
"Yes, I'll think about that too," I agreed, feeling sadness wash over me once more.
Part 3. George/Fred Weasley
It didn't slip past us how thrilled Hermione was to see Percy. And I definitely felt the flare of jealousy in my twin when he saw just how excited she was. It was becoming clear to us that Hermione had a soft spot for our big brother, even if she didn't realise it herself.
During the chat, I was getting pretty frustrated with the waves of jealousy I could feel coming from Fred, and at one point, it was hard to hide. But after a long and emotional talk, the three of us left Hermione up in the flat with some product designs to mull over while we headed downstairs.
I could feel the conflict in Fred as we stepped into the storeroom, but I also knew he wouldn't let his feelings for our sister-in-law completely overshadow his true self.
"I was actually planning to visit Mum during this brief respite. Is there a particular matter you needed me for?" Percy asked us.
"We've got a gift for you. It'll come in handy on your visit tonight," Fred said, managing to keep the hint of resentment I could feel from him well hidden.
"I am not some sort of sex fiend, you know. I don't intend on..."
"Save your breath, Perce; we all know what you'll do," I told him, watching as he blushed deeply.
"We've got a small stash of 'Polyjuice Potion' we were saving for emergencies, but since you've been away for weeks and are leaving again tomorrow, we figured we'd give you some," Fred told him, heading over to fetch an unbreakable crystal phial from the safe hidden behind the picture. A snapshot of the lot of us taken about two years ago now—Harry, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, Oliver Wood, and the two of us—all kitted out on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch in the same togs we donned in our first year as a team. In the picture, we're all in stitches, trying to keep our clothes up while Katie's doing her best to cover up, and Alicia and Angelina are having a laugh, trying to out-pose each other.
Percy cleared his throat awkwardly and said, "I possess my own." Fred and I exchanged a look, not at all surprised. We had guessed as much, but it was still a shocker for our by-the-book big brother to have something like that on hand.
"This Polyjuice lasts a full workday," Fred announced with a flourish, presenting the phial like a prized trophy.
"That simply isn't possible," Percy said, eyeing the potion in his hand.
"In fact, it is," I interjected.
"Before his very timely—" Fred started.
"—and deserved, in our opinion—" I took over,
"—demise. The giant bat in the dungeon—"
"—one Severus Snape—"
"—had articles published in both 'Potions today' and 'Brew magazine'." Fred explained.
"He had improved the formula—" I started,
"—and found by adding sands of time—"
"—and many months of more work—"
"—the Polyjuice Potion," Fred declared dramatically, "now lasts a whopping eight hours!"
We clapped our hands with exaggerated slowness at the sheer genius of the work. "Imagine the possibilities! A full workday of being someone else—"
"—without the awkward mid-transformation surprises," Fred finished.
"Cease that at once. I know you're doing it deliberately, and it's utterly insufferable," Percy sighed, still staring at the phial in his hand.
"But entertaining," I grinned. We really didn't do that enough to people these days, but it was always a blast to mess with Percy.
"I assume you know how to handle Ron," Fred said to Percy, his tone shifting back to a more serious note.
"You do comprehend this is utterly twisted, don't you?" Percy suddenly blurted out, his eyes meeting ours as he gripped the potion tightly. "It's clear that none of us gathered in this room are of sound mind. We're all decidedly unhinged and ought to be confined!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing with a rare intensity.
"You might be right, Perce, but the other option is just hoping Ron does the right thing," Fred said.
"Although I reckon he'll be more than eager once Hermione tells him he can join the Quidditch team," I remarked. Fred and I couldn't miss the look of distaste on our brother's face.
"He shouldn't require an incentive," Percy remarked.
"We agree," I told him. He looked at me and nodded.
"She is expecting twins," he stated then, eyeing us before letting out a sigh. We didn't need to say anything; the truth was obvious. The timing was just too perfect. "I presume Ronald will be pleased. I overheard him expressing to Hermione his desire for a son."
"Now he gets two," Fred said, and I felt a flare of baffled, grim emotion from my brother. We exchanged another glance, but his thoughts were too muddled for even me to fully grasp, beyond unhappiness.
"Has it been subjected to testing?" Percy queried, nodding toward the potion in his grasp.
"Just here in the shop," I told him.
"Where is Ronald?" He inquired.
"We decided to let him manage the Hogsmeade shop, and we take turns going down there every few days to ensure everything's running smoothly. We've also been covering the shop on mornings when he has practice these last few weeks," Fred explained.
"Hermione needs to tell him her decision soon. There's only one practice left before he's got to either take the plunge or pass on the position," I added.
"That certain she will agree?" Percy asked.
"Yes," we both said. It was a bit uncertain at first, but we reckoned that Percy's info about the Masteries would sway her. She wouldn't feel right doing something for herself without giving something back.
"Me too," Percy muttered, a frown creasing his brow as he cast another glance at the phial in his hand.
"It's okay to use it, Percy," Fred told him, a touch of sympathy in his voice as we watched the emotions play out on our big brother's face.
"No, it is not. I find it distasteful to take advantage of her, yet…"
"We know," we agreed.
How we managed to overlook the fact that our brother was head over heels for Hermione—well, that's a mystery even to us. But Percy had always been somewhat of an enigma to us, more so than any of our other siblings, despite our shared experiences and close-knit family ties. We always figured it was 'cause he was the odd one out. Fred never imagined he'd have anything in common with the family's resident know-it-all.
Part 3. Hermione Granger-Weasley
I had spent the entire day pondering over what the twins and Percy had spoken to me about. I knew it might be a bit selfish, but I really wanted to pursue that Arithmancy apprenticeship, especially if the arrangements turned out as Percy had described. I was also intrigued by the idea of one day gaining a Runes Mastery. From my very first classes in my third year at Hogwarts, I had been captivated by both Arithmancy and Runes.
Arithmancy broke down all magic to its very essence, providing a true understanding of precisely why and how all magic worked and how it wove together. Some preferred to use it as a form of divination, but the truth was that if you studied it with that intention, you could begin to discern the patterns of the magic around you. From there, you could make educated guesses that were far more likely to be accurate.
Runes were absolutely fascinating because they represented one of the earliest forms of magic, dating back to when witches and wizards were still known as Druids in England and by various other names in different countries. This magic worked in direct harmony with the earth and the very core of magic itself. In our seventh-year Runes class, we briefly touched on the possibility of creating our own Runes, but it was something only Master's could achieve.
Creating modern Runes was incredibly personal, like writing a language that only you can speak and use because each Rune is a reflection of your own magical energy. This means that anything you create with your Runes is uniquely yours and cannot be replicated or stolen by anyone else.
I also thought about Ron and what it would mean if he returned to Quidditch. The simple truth was that, even after all this time, I still didn't trust him, and I believed that no matter how much I had tried to conceal that fact, he knew. It saddened me that we weren't able to get back to being who we once were as a couple. We had always been best friends first and husband and wife second.
Now I had to wonder if that had also been part of the problem. I looked at couples like Ginny and Harry, Molly and Arthur, and even reflected on my memories of my parents' marriage. Yes, they were all friends, but it was clear to everyone that they were husband and wife, and that was what mattered. They were true couples, orbiting around each other like revolving suns.
Ron and I had still maintained our own lives; our marriage just the tie that bound us together, a statement to say, 'This is the person I choose to spend my free time with.' At the time, I had thought that was beautiful, but now it seemed lacking.
I watched Ron now as he busied himself in the kitchen. He had offered to make dinner when he got home and hadn't even grumbled when I told him I had invited Percy over. Yet, I could see the tension in his shoulders, and every so often he would let out a sigh. It struck me that he had been like this for weeks, and before that, I knew he had been angry with me. And I hadn't known why.
I glanced into the bassinet next to the sofa and adjusted the blanket over Persis. Then, I blew a raspberry into Rose's shoulder, making her giggle as she sat on my lap, even as I reached for the toy that had slipped from her tiny, wet grasp and handed it back to her. At the sound of her laughter, Ron turned and smiled. Our eyes met, and I saw a swell of sadness in his before he turned back to what he was doing.
Gently bouncing Rose on my knee in front of my already pronounced belly, I said, "How would you feel about me pursuing a Mastery?"
Ron stilled, carefully setting down the knife. Then he turned to look at me, confusion clearly etched on his face. "How would that even work?" he asked. His response surprised me; I had expected him to start listing all the reasons why I couldn't pursue something like that.
"Percy is acquainted with a Master of Arithmancy who would be willing to allow me to work predominantly via correspondence," I responded, my gaze fixed intently on his face. "He would only require my presence once a month." As was often the case, there was a reaction to Percy's name, but this time it wasn't the usual annoyance or bitterness.
Ron glanced at my stomach, then at Rose, and finally at the bassinet where Persis was asleep. He asked carefully, "What about your curse? How would that factor in?"
"I've never needed to use my Location Portkey, yet I still wear it. As you're aware, when I'm pregnant, I can go up to two weeks without needing to be 'fed'," I said, cringing a little at the word. Ron just watched me without comment. "However, if I'm not pregnant, then two days seems to be about the limit before I experience significant discomfort," I said, trying to minimise the severity of the pain for his sake. "I know this curse isn't always that consistent, and there have been instances when I've needed you just hours later. I really do appreciate that, Ron. I hope you know that," I conveyed to him.
"You're my wife, Mi," was all he said in response. I swallowed and looked back at Rose on my lap because he made it sound like I was and obligation. Perhaps that was all I really was to him anymore.
"So, with the Portkey, I could reach you quickly, if necessary," I concluded, reminding him of the small device I always wore. When I glanced back over at him, he had returned to his work in the kitchen, but he seemed to be moving slowly, deep in thought. "Would you be willing to let me try?" I asked him.
"There are things I still want out of life too, Mi," Ron said earnestly. "It'd be pretty selfish of me to stop you from at least trying." Then he turned and gave me one of his teasing grins—a look that took me back to when we were best friends. "And I've always said you were brilliant!"
"Thank you," I breathed, genuinely touched and surprised that he had accepted without mentioning his own wants.
He shrugged, turning back to his food preparations, and said, "If anyone can pull off a Mastery with everything else you've got going on, it's you." I took a deep breath, feeling a wave of gratitude toward him. I looked down at Rose, still bouncing on my knee, and handed her a teething ring to chew on instead of the soft little lion that purred when held, as it was drenched in saliva. Her cheeks were all rosy, and I knew I'd need to apply a little Soothing Balm to her gums before she went to sleep in a few hours. For now, though, she seemed content and happy.
"Ron?" I prompted.
"Yeah?" Ron replied, moving toward the stove.
"I want you to pursue your dreams too."
He turned and looked at me again, his eyes filled with such a hopeful look that I felt a pain in my chest that was made of apprehension and sadness. But I kept my composure, not letting any of it show. Ron set everything down on the counter and came to sit beside me on the sofa.
"Do you mean that?" He asked.
"You're my husband, Ron. We used to be best friends," I said, and he winced at that but didn't refute the past tense. "I feel sometimes as though we have been living in a state of punishment. Do you know what I mean?" I asked him.
"I, er… yeah, I think so," he said, taking Rose into his arms as she reached out to him.
"Don't you think we would both be happier if we went back to supporting each other? We were always better at being friends than husband and wife anyway," I said, my voice tinged with sadness. He looked at me, and I could see the fear in his eyes.
"You're not trying to break up with me, are ya, Mi?" Ron asked, unease in his voice. I offered him a gentle smile and tenderly stroked his cheek in comfort.
"No, Ron. What I'm suggesting is that while our marriage may not have been ideal in the past, it was what we were comfortable with. Let's go back to being friends, at the very least. Friends who support each other's dreams," I conveyed to him.
"And friends who have sex," he said with a grin.
"Well, yes," I said, laughing softly at the expression on his face.
"Can I tell you something?" he asked carefully.
"Of course," I replied.
"I've been offered my spot back with the Chudley Cannons. And as much as I'd love to fly with them again, there's something else I fancy doing first," Ron revealed, his gaze studying my face as intently as I had watched his. At the mention of his old team, I swallowed hard. I hadn't known about that, and the thought of him returning filled me with a sense of dread.
"What's that?" I asked carefully.
"I was hoping to join next season's Quidditch World Cup team, playing for England," he told me.
"That would be a greater hindrance to my curse than my doing a Mastery," I said, feeling ridiculously slow at realising that he would need to leave the country during the season of play. I knew Percy had mentioned the international Portkey, but I was so upset at the time that I had overlooked the greater significance.
"Not to be rude or anything, but you'll probably be pregnant most of the time anyway," Ron said a bit awkwardly. "And, well, I'll keep doing what I have to do for you whenever I can." I despised how he phrased that, as though having sex with me were a burdensome task. True, there were moments when he didn't view it that way, but there were equally undeniable instances when he appeared to feel precisely like that.
"I know it's a lot to ask, Mi, especially after everything," he said, his ears turning pink with remembered remorse. "I can't even ask you to just let me try, 'cause once I'm in, I've got to see it through to the end. I'll have to train several times a week for hours, focusing on physical conditioning, tactical drills, and team coordination all this year. I know I've got to make everything work, like handling the shop and being there for you and the girls, but I really reckon with the family's support, it can be done."
"Ron, I have to tell you, the idea of that really frightens me, and not only because if you're gone too long, I'll be in pain," I said, then took a breath of determination. "But saying that, I was being truthful before. I genuinely want us to have everything that makes us happy. That makes us better friends again."
"So, is that a yes?" Ron asked, his face lighting up with a hopeful smile.
"That's a yes," I told him. Instantly, he enveloped me in a hug, his excitement palpable as he squeezed Rose between us, and then he planted an exuberant kiss on my forehead.
"Thank you, Mi. Thank you. I promise you won't regret this," he said, kissing my head again before making Rose giggle by peppering smooches all over her red cheeks.
The following week, Percy came back from his assignment away solely to escort me to the residence of Edric Elton, and I started my apprenticeship with him that same day. The old Arithmancy Master was actually quite sweet, if you didn't pay too much attention to his words. It turned out that we worked quite well together.
He seldom commented on my pregnancy or the subsequent ones; just made it abundantly clear that he wouldn't tolerate pregnancy or children as reasons for any lapse in my commitment. I was quite pleased by that. I always found the maternity leave the Ministry forced upon me to be dreadfully boring.
The twins were born on the 15th of July, 2005, and to say we were all in a state of bewilderment would be an understatement. For centuries, the Prewett's had been having identical twin boys, and it was naturally assumed that I would continue this tradition. All seemed to be following that pattern as Fabian Ronald Granger-Weasley entered the world, but minutes later he was followed by a sister.
I chose to name her Georgina, despite it being pointed out to me that Gideon still could have worked. I simply disagreed, and Fred found great amusement in the feminine version of his brother's name. Thankfully, George was pleased, and even Molly liked it, though she was still a little disappointed I hadn't used the other name.
Ron had initially intended to give the second boy the middle name 'Ronnie' and found himself grappling with frustration when he deemed it unsuitable for a girl. I pointed out that the name 'Veronica,' which he had never heard of before, conveniently employs 'Ronnie' as a nickname, and he promptly settled on that.
Still unsure what had happened, as I was quite certain there were no twins in my known lineage, I approached the Department of Mysteries Healers to ask their opinions. Initially, they too were at a loss, until they had me explain to them what had been happening at the time of the probable conception. They were intrigued when I described my symptoms of a particular day and enquired if I would be willing to recreate the events so they could study them.
To say I was unwilling to relive that was an understatement. Even without having to go through that horrid experience again, the Healers hypothesised that the curse had most likely forced a second ovulation in an attempt to force the issue of satisfying its needs and expedited its arrival into the right place to improve said conception. I wasn't going to argue with that theory, as it sounded plausible to me, and I decided to let the matter rest there.