Two
Molly
Christmastime is supposed to be warm. Bright. This year just feels different. Molly sits up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The soft cry from the other room that woke her sounds again. She sighs, climbing out of the warmth of the heavy woolen covers, sliding on her slippers. Crossing the hall into a small bedroom, she lifts a fussy Teddy Lupin into her arms, shushing him gently as she bounces him from side to side.
As she does most mornings, Molly silently curses Remus and Nymphadora for naming poor Harry as godfather of their baby before he'd even had a chance to live his life. Harry took the title seriously, but between working at the Ministry and being all of eighteen, Molly and Arthur quickly realized that someone would have to step in for Teddy. The child was a blessing, and lord knows they had the room for him, but at her age, Molly hoped she'd be done with child rearing by now.
She walks into the kitchen, where George and Hermione are sharing their daily cup of tea. She smiles softly at the sight. After losing Fred, she and Arthur watched George fade slowly. He spent less time at the shop, opting to hire someone to run it, and he'd taken up smoking. As he turned inward, cutting out his parents and siblings, it was Hermione who'd managed to chip away at the wall of grief he'd built, seemingly out of nowhere.
Molly sets Teddy into the wooden high chair at the end of the table, quietly greeting the grim pair.
"Hermione, could I ask you to watch Teddy for a bit today?" Molly pours herself a cup of tea, sitting at the heavy oak table. "I have a bit of Christmas shopping to do in London, and the dear still doesn't travel well by Floo."
The girl smiles, nodding.
"Of course, Molly."
Hermione
George was extra quiet this morning, she observed. He'd come in from his cigarette and sat, sipping his tea without a word, simply nodding his thanks. The bags under his eyes seem deeper than the day before, and she notices that he's been wearing the same sweater for a couple of days. She wonders if he's run out of clean clothes, and makes a mental note to offer to do a load of laundry for everyone to avoid singling him out.
When Molly asks for help with Teddy, she agrees without hesitation. The Weasley matriarch became a supplement mother after Hermione wiped herself from Mrs. Granger's mind, and there was nothing she could ask from her that she'd deny. She stands and walks to the stove, finding a pot to start some porridge for the young Lupin, who yawns quietly. The irony of Remus Lupin's son being a night owl is not lost on her.
"Hey 'Mione?"
She turns at the sound of the first words George has spoken all morning, to see him brooding over an empty mug, and nods.
"Think I could get a refill?"
She smiles softly, walking over to the table. He hands her his mug, and their fingers brush gently. She notices that his hand is freezing, despite the ceramic cup still retaining heat from his tea. Shaking off the thought, she walks back to the counter, pouring some water from the kettle and mixing him a blend of cinnamon, dried apples, clove and nutmeg into a small tea pouch, charming it closed before dunking it into the vessel. A small glass jar with honey sits next to the stove, which she grabs to add a healthy dollop of the golden sweetener to his tea. George, she'd observed, has a massive sweet tooth. Topping the drink with a splash of milk, she walks the mug back over to him, setting it down gently. He murmurs his thanks, slipping back into his solemn mood.
George
The nightmares had been getting worse, and he'd barely slept a wink the night before. Now, staring into his tea, he feels numb. After the first burning sip, a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. She added extra honey.
Teddy starts to fuss, waiting for his breakfast, with little incoherent noises of protest. George chuckles, scooping the baby out of his high chair and bouncing him on his knee for a moment. He'd never been good with kids, at least not before Molly and Arthur had taken the little tyke in. Something about another person needing his help was comforting, though. He takes another sip of his tea, watching Hermione flit about the kitchen to make Teddy's breakfast.
It hadn't taken long for her to settle into life at the Burrow, at least that's how it seems. She and Ron look happy enough, when he's home. Molly clearly loves having another woman in the house, and George...appreciates her company. Truth be told, he can't imagine what life would look like without her at this point, making tea, reading in the den, letting him brood without questions.
Molly asks too many questions. Worries too much. Arthur is barely there, between work at the Ministry and assignments for the Order. Harry and Ron are gone more often than not, and Ginny won't return from Hogwarts for another week.
Another scalding sip slides down his throat.
"'Mione?"
She turns, pot in hand, setting her warm brown eyes on him. An unfamiliar ache takes hold in his chest, throwing off his train of thought. She waits for him to speak, and his words come out in a slow stammer.
"I was just...I..." he shakes his head, "never mind."
Coward. He watches her pour the concoction of oats, cream, and mashed fruit into a small bowl for Teddy. Lifting the baby off his knee, George sets him back in his high chair with a soft smile. Hermione cools off the porridge with a charm before setting the bowl down, which Teddy lunges at with a fervor, shoveling fistfuls of the sticky mixture into his mouth.
George chuckles quietly, sipping his tea.
"George?"
He looks up at her, leaning against the kitchen counter with her own mug nestled between her palms.
"Yeah?"
Hermione
She takes a deep breathe before asking.
"Would you ever want your ear back?"
She cringes internally, knowing that George hates questions, hates addressing anything from the previous two years. She backpedals quickly.
"Not that I think you need it back or anything, I just imagine that it's probably disconcerting, only hearing out of one ear, and I've been looking into this potion that's basically a modified bone regrowth serum that targets cartilage and..."
She trails off, embarrassed for the rambling, and looks down into her tea.
"And I'm just saying, I could try, if that was something you wanted."
She feels his eyes on her, and her cheeks grow warm. Silence fills the room, punctuated only with the sounds of Teddy unceremoniously devouring wet porridge. Her eyes flick up and meet his as he seems to study her.
"I don't know, honestly. A few people have offered to try. St. Mungo's said they they could probably get the ear back, but it wouldn't function, so I'd still be deaf on one side."
She bites her lip in thought, working through the problem. Finding solutions was like meditation, and this was a task she was determined to succeed in.
"I think I could do it."
He seems to sink back into himself, and she curses herself for the offer. It was too much, too fast. She should have known better. His voice breaks her out of her thoughts.
"If anyone could, Hermione, it would be you. Just let me think on it?"
She exhales a breath that she didn't realize was being held.
"Of course. Think about it. Take your time, I'm not going anywhere."
She chuckles, looking back to him, and her chest tightens at the look he gives her. They lock gazes for a moment, until Teddy's bowl crashes to the floor, startling them both. She jumps up, and with a quick wave of her wand, the bowl is repaired. She sets it in the sink, quietly grabbing a cloth and running it under warm water before wiping down Teddy's sticky hands and mouth. The sound of George standing distracts her as she watches him stalk silently out of the kitchen, his tea left on the table to grow cold.
George
What the hell was that?
His chest aches with an unfamiliar tightness as he makes his way up the stairs to his room, closing the door behind him and flopping onto his bed inelegantly. He can hear the sounds of Hermione cleaning up the kitchen downstairs and a pang of guilt hits him for leaving without helping.
She just wants to do a nice thing for you. That's it.
He rubs his eyes, sitting up and bringing his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.
Merlin, George, she's shacked up with your little brother. Get a grip.
He thinks about the jolt that went through him when their fingers brushed earlier. He avoids contact with anyone, save the hugs that Molly forces on him occasionally. Her hand was warm. Soft.
He shakes his head, burying his face in his knees.
You need to stop. You're a mess. She wouldn't be interested, even if Ron weren't in the picture, you oaf.
After a while, it grows quiet downstairs. He stands, shaking off his battling thoughts, and opens his door.
Hermione
What the hell was that?
She washes up the dishes as Teddy babbles in his highchair, oblivious to the tension of the previous moment.
Was it the offer? Did I offend him? He didn't look...offended, he looked...
She shakes her head quickly to clear the thought. It didn't mean anything. George is in a terrible place, of course he isn't thinking about her like that.
You're shacked up with his little brother, Hermione.
She cringes internally. Ron had left with Harry that morning for a training session in Wales for a few days. She'd kissed him goodbye, then brushed her teeth as soon as he left. She'll have to deal with the growing regret inside her eventually, but not this close to Christmas.
Then when?
She sighs, sweeping up the kitchen and wiping down the table. She considers his appearance this morning.
He's not sleeping.
Teddy yawns, drawing her attention with a smile.
"Ready for a nap, little one?"
She scoops the baby up in her arms, carrying him into the den and sinking into a large armchair, rocking him quietly. Footsteps on the stairs cause her to glance up as George wanders into the room, sitting on the couch opposite her.
"If you think you can manage it, I'd be grateful."
She blinks, confused for a moment, before realizing he'd considered her offer.
"Oh, of course. I'd want some time to work out the formula, but I'd really love to help somehow, George."
He shakes his head with a small smile.
"You already do. More than you know."