Chapter 4
She sat at a muggle café in a busy Australian town, watching the passers-by, knowing that she was imminently going to see her parents. She was hoping beyond hope that she could restore their memories, especially considering they would be grandparents. The path that had led her here wasn't an easy one. Her pregnancy didn't allow for the use of portkey, so she opted for muggle methods of transportation. The 28-hour flight felt like an eternity to her but once she landed in Sydney airport, she knew she was just that one step closer to putting her family back together.
The Australian ministry had provided her with as much information of licenced dentists that they could, and Hermione began by making calls. She eventually found their office and took a train to the seaside city south of Sydney, where she now sat, sipping tea. Her bump was now so obvious, that she didn't bother hiding it. Her concern was that, if, and that was a big if, she returned her parents memories, she would have a lot of explaining to do.
At 5:45pm, she watched as Wendell and Monika Wilkins left their place of work and headed down the brick paved footpath. Hermione got to her feet and followed, knowing full well that she had limited time. She stayed far enough back that they didn't suspect anything, but close enough to make sure she could still see them.
As they arrived at what looked like a parking structure and got into a lift, Hermione hurried to get in with them before the door shut, knowing that this was her chance. If she didn't act now, there would not be another time. As the lift moved, she hit the stop button and watched the people who she had known her whole life, look at her in confusion, not knowing who she was in the slightest.
"Is everything ok dear?" Monika asked.
"It will be" she said, taking out her wand and pointing it at the two of them.
Within minutes, the blank looks on their faces faded and one of recognition washed over them and Hermione's eyes filled with tears.
"Hermione?" her dad asked.
She couldn't speak, but simply nodded as she ran into the arms of her father. Her mum took a little longer, but once she realised who she was, she joined the family hug and together, the three of them cried in the lift that was stopped between the 2nd and 3rd floors of the car park.
Hermione spent as much time with her parents as she could, pushing it to the last week before she could safely fly back home. They had decided that their life in Australia was too good to leave and, to Hermione's disappointment, wanted to stay.
"Of course, we'll visit sweetheart, when the baby is born, but this is our life now. It feels like home here" her dad said. The shock and confusion about the last few years and the story about Fred and the baby took a long time for the family to flesh out. There were tears, angry outbursts, frustrated sighs and silenced that stretched on, but in the end, Hermione knew it was all worth it because she could now be completely open and honest with her parents about her life. About the dangers and the incredible world that she was part of.
When Hermione arrived back in England, she thought about returning to her home, to the house that she lived in with her parents her whole life, but eventually, after trying to make it work there for a few days, she knew where her home was.
The Burrow had been transformed over the last few months, with the money that Ron had been granted from the ministry for his civic duties and the money that Harry had urged them to take, the family was able to extend their home, add rooms, make larger spaces and, to Hermione's surprise, add an apartment over by the orchid, just for her.
"We had hoped that you would stay dear" Molly said when she showed her the beautiful 2 bedroom apartment, complete with its own kitchen and laundry.
"I don't know what to say" she replied, tears filling her eyes. She had hoped to use Ginny's old room until the baby came then figure something out later, but this was beyond anything that Hermione could have hoped for.
"Say you'll stay", Molly said.
"I'll stay as long as I'm welcome" she replied.
"You are family" Molly said taking Hermione's hand where the ring sat that Fred had placed on it. The two women embraced, not needing to exchange words.
The next few weeks flew by and Hermione's due date approached. She had furnished her apartment and gathered as many baby things as she could. The apartment was far enough away from The Burrow that she was able to connect electricity and have a TV, a fridge and a few modern features, but overall, there was still a lot of magic in the home.
She was putting up some pale green banners in the baby's room when she heard a tap on the front door. She appreciated that no one just barged in.
George was standing there, holding a bottle of, what looked like cider.
"It’s non-alcoholic. A housewarming present" he said with an attempt at a smile.
"Thanks George" Hermione said, opening the door and inviting him in. She tried her hardest to act normal around him, but it was so hard. She didn't know how anyone could, when it was like looking at Fred. Fred who was gone. Fred who wouldn't know this apartment, this world, this Hermione.
"I'll go" he said, noticing Hermione's awkwardness and stopping in the entry way.
"No, please don't" she said, grabbing his arm before he could leave.
"You can't even look at me. No one can" he said.
"I'm sorry George, it’s just… I look at your face and I see Fred. I see me and Fred and it's hard to let go. It’s hard to accept that you're not him and that he's gone" she said.
"Do you think that I don't do that too? That I don't look in the mirror every single day and wish that it was him looking back at me? That I died instead of him?" he blurted out.
"I do, I can't even comprehend for a second how it is for you George, but please don't say that. Don't even for a second think that" she said, tears falling down her face.
"Why not? Fred had so much to live for. He had you, he had a baby on the way. It’s not fair that he died, and I lived. I have nothing. I have no one" he said, tears filling his own eyes. It was rare to see him like this.
Hermione placed her arms around him and pulled him close to her. The feeling when he put his arms around her was so similar to how Fred had held her, that she almost pulled away. The thing that stopped her, was that he smelt different to Fred. They used different cologne. That was something. There was a starting point that they could use to get beyond this. So Hermione could see George as the uncle to her child and not as a constant reminder of the loss of the man she loved.
"I just… maybe if we saw each other more, it would be easier?" she said as they let each other go. "If I got to know you, I might see that you're different from Fred. That I'm not imagining things. That I'm not holding onto some stupid sort of hope that you're actually him. That he's in you somehow" she cried, almost sobbing.
"I am him though. And he was me" he said.
She looked at him and she knew he was right. Fred and George had always been too similar. Eerily so. To spend time with him, would be like torturously spending time with Fred, only to let him go back to his life again. Could she?
"Can we just….?" she started, looking to the face of the man who was identical in every way to the man she had loved and lost.
George took the pale green banner from her hand and urged Hermione inside. He headed for the room that would be the baby's room and wordlessly started hanging the bunting by hand, knowing that Hermione couldn't reach. Hermione noticed for the first time that George was ever so slightly taller than Fred. Another thing that was different.
Although she was torturing herself by being around George, maybe there were more differences than she thought? Maybe this would be ok.
George stayed and helped Hermione finish the baby's room, late into the afternoon.
"I can't cook" she said, as they made their way into the kitchen. Geroge lent against the bench as Hermione perused the cupboards.
"It's a good thing I can" he said with a smile. The awkward tension that had been between them in the beginning was now gone.
"You can stay for dinner if you like" she offered.
"As long as I cook it right?" he asked with another smile. It was bizarre, all the ways Hermione had now realised that George was different to Fred. His smile was different, his smell, his height, his whole demeanour. Fred was always so outgoing, so open and flirtatious, even before they had begun a relationship. George was more reserved, quieter, obviously not flirting with her, because that would be just so completely wrong in every way.
George cooked and they ate, and it was nice. He wasn’t Fred and it was ok.
George would visit Hermione each day and help her with one thing or another. Other people would come and visit, which Hermione appreciated, but George was always there. Always in the background, helping, eager to fill a hole that was left when Fred was taken from her.
Harry had once asked Hermione if she thought it was appropriate. If it wasn't weird that George was around so much. Hermione brushed it off with a laugh and told Harry that George was being a great uncle and a kind friend to her by helping her set up her home and await the arrival of the newest Weasley, who was due any day now.
Harry had now moved to Grimmauld place, which was in the process of being completely renovated. Ginny had all but moved in with him, much to Molly's dislike. Their relationship was in full swing, taking up where they left off before the war.
September brought with it, the final opportunity for Hermione to complete her studies at Hogwarts, which she turned down. In other circumstances, she could have seen herself returning to Hogwarts for her final year, graduate and find a career. Six months ago, it would have seemed like the logical step for Hermione Granger. Now, all thoughts of study were gone, with books about child rearing, baby names and child psychology replacing the ones about dark magic, potions, complex spells and Horcruxes.
The day Hermione went into labour, could not have occurred under worse circumstances.
She woke in the morning, two weeks before her due date, with what she thought was digestion cramps. She had eaten a strong curry the night before, courtesy of George and his cooking expertise. In fact, George had cooked for her daily for the past week. They had spent all their free time together, and Hermione had adamantly sent him away to do something that didn't revolve around baby preparation or 'Hermione entertainment'. He, and the rest of the Weasleys had left early in the day to help Harry at Grimmauld place something they did every now and then to lighten up the place and transform it from a dark magic dungeon to a light bright Potter Palace.
As the day wore on, the cramps continued, and Hermione thought nothing of it. She assumed, given what she had been told, that when labour came, she'd know it. It would be excruciating, and she would yell and scream and curse and there would be gushing waters breaking and she'd just know. The entire day, she tried to sleep, tried to drink plenty of water to aid her digestion cramps and relaxed as much as she could.
Before sunset, the cramps intensified, and she resolved herself to sit on the toilet to pass whatever this was.
When she felt a 'pop' from within her, followed by an immediate gushing of water, she immediately realised her mistake. She had no idea how close to birth she was, however, when her body began taking over and urging her to push, she soon realised that she was in a lot of trouble.
She hoped beyond hope that someone was nearby as she sent violet sparks up through the bathroom window, a pre-arranged sign with the Weasleys that she was in labour. She immediately threw up red sparks to demonstrate the urgency and placed herself down on the tiled bathroom floor, gathering as many supplies as she could. Despite reading up about childbirth and knowing not to let the urges take over, her body could not fight the sensations that were driving through her, forcing her to bear down and push. She reached down and felt between her legs and realised, with horror, that her baby's head was crowning. Again, violet sparks shot up and out of the window as she screamed out in terror and pain. The cramps had become full blown contractions and with every one of the pains, came the uncontrollable pushing sensation.
As she felt the head of the baby come out, she reached down, panting, taking the baby's head carefully in her hands while she waited for the next contraction. At this point, she heard the front door to her apartment burst open and prayed that it was Molly, or she'd even appreciate Arthur, who at least had been at enough deliveries to know how this was supposed to go.
When Georges face appeared in the bathroom, Hermione almost lost it.
"Godric Hermione…" he yelled as he knelt down beside her.
"Please... George, I need Molly" she screamed.
With more ease than Hermione would have expected, George conjured a Patronus in the form of a magpie, and sent it on its way, before turning back to her with a look of serious concentration on his face.
No more words were spoken as Hermione experienced another contraction and pushed hard, allowing the shoulders to be born, followed quickly by the rest of the baby.
George grabbed a towel and helped her wrap the tiny slippery baby up while Hermione attempted to cover herself up.
"It’s not crying. Why isn't it crying?" she asked, wiping her hair from her sweaty forehead and pulling the baby closer to her chest.
George rubbed the baby's back quickly, in a way that Hermione felt was too rough, but before long, cried could be heard echoing throughout the tiled room.
"It's a boy" he said through tears of his own, as he tied off the umbilical cord with a clip that had been in the baby supplies, before handing Hermione some scissors.
"Fred" she whispered, as she looked down at the mess of curly red hair stuck to the top of the baby's gunk covered head.
"That's a great name" George whispered back.
There was a short moment of silence where Hermione just looked down at the tiny miracle that she had created.
"George, I… Look at him" she said through tears.
"I know, he's the most perfect thing I have ever seen" he said, smiling brightly.
Hermione had no idea why she did what she did next, but she sat forward, cradling her newborn son in her arms and kissed George with a sweet passion, that George returned.
Their lips parted momentarily while they locked eyes, knowing that this wasn't right, before coming together again, not breaking apart until the sound of the front door opening pulled them apart. Hermione looked to George in confusion as Molly burst into the small bathroom.
"Oh dear" she said as she looked down at the bizarre sight.
"It was all so quick, I didn't know it was happening until he was almost born" she said, looking down at the baby who now had his eyes open, looking all around the new and unfamiliar world.
"George, go fetch Hermione a proper blanket and a glass of water. Tell your father to floo Saint Mungos" she said.
George hopped up without a word as Molly checked over both Hermione and the baby.
"Looks like you did everything right" she said.
"Oh, I'm not so sure, if George wasn't here, I don't know what I'd have done" she said as Molly checked the tie in the umbilical cord.
"He looks perfect dear" Molly said, now holding her grandson in her arms.
"I want to name him Fred" she said.
"I think that's wonderful" Molly whispered, as the newborn closed its eyes.
George returned with a blanket for Hermione and a glass of water, which Hermione drank in seconds.
Molly handed the baby over to George as Arthur arrived with, what looked to be a medi-witch.
"Let's get you up in into bed, shall we?" the medi-witch said.
After a check that Hermione felt was rather invasive and painful, she was given the all clear and dressed in her comfy pyjamas.
She watched on as the witch checked over baby Fred while Molly and Arthur stood by and George stood back. Hermione now felt the weight of the moment she had shared with him on the floor of the bathroom and realised how horrible of a mistake she had made.
"He's fit as a fiddle. Perfect really" the medi-witch said, passing him to Hermione. "Now is the best time to initiate feeding…" she continued, but Hermione mostly drowned her out. She had eyes only for her son as she allowed herself to be guided to the couch and assisted to feed her son while the men left the room.
This was it; this was her family. Herself and her son and this was all she needed.
The first few weeks of little Fred's life were filled with frequent visits from all members of the Weasley family, as well as Harry and Neville, Luna and a few other members of the DA. George would only attend in the presence of someone else, which Hermione hadn't had the opportunity to think too hard about. She was tired from lack of sleep felt like she had to be constantly on show, trying to be the perfect mother, the perfect person.
When Fred was a month old, Hermione had had a rough night, followed by a visit from Ron, Ginny, Harry, Neville and George. Her apartment wasn't a mess, but it wasn't exactly neat and tidy. She had been living off food delivered by Molly and the dishes were piling up.
"Why don't we take Freddy off your hands for a bit while you get some things taken care of?" Ron asked, handing a crying Fred to Ginny and looking off into the kitchen.
"I don't really care for the housework to be honest Ron" she said, making to take Fred back. She looked at the clock and knew that he would be hungry.
"Its fine, I can settle him. I may be the youngest, but I'm still good with babies" Ginny said, walking around the room and bouncing the hungry baby in her arms.
Hermione could feel the milk begin the flow inside of her breasts, a natural reaction to her son's cries.
"I'll just give him a quick feed and you can have him back" she said.
"It's fine Hermione, go and have a shower or do laundry or something that you need to do. We can take care of him" Ginny said.
"I really ought to…" Hermione began, desperately wanting to take her baby back and give him what it was that he needed.
"He's probably just wet, I'll change him" Ginny said, laying him down on the lounge to change him.
"He isn't wet, Ginny, I just changed him" Hermione said quietly.
Ginny frowned and looked down at the now hysterically crying baby. Hermione stood and watched as Ginny tried everything to calm him, everything except hand him over to his mum.
"You know what? Don't even worry about it. You think you know best? Take him, he's yours!" Hermione said before she stormed out of the room and slammed the door. She didn't mean the outburst, but the frustration that had grown at the lack of consideration of Hermione's desire to just feed her own son had grown to an insurmountable level and she had to remove herself.
After a few minutes, a quiet knock on the door pulled her from her rage and George appeared with Fred in his arms.
"Here, he's certainly hungry" Fred said, passing him off to Hermione.
She sat on the rocking chair in the corner of the room and hastily nursed her son. She relaxed her head back as the let down of milk almost drowned the mouth of the hungry infant and held a towel under the other side which was now leaking like a running tap.
The whole time, George had been looking away.
"Thank you" she said, once the let down had slowed and Fred's hungry gulps turned into slow rhythmic sucks.
"It was like watching a train wreck" he said, this interaction being the first thing he had said to her since Freddy was born.
Hermione simply hummed in agreeance, not sure what to say. They hadn't been alone in a room together since they kissed and Hermione didn't know what to do or what to say.
"I need to apologise" George said.
"For what? Tearing him away from your sister? Or helping me give birth on the bathroom floor?" she asked.
"For… well… Kissing you" he said.
"I kissed you. You just kissed me back" she said.
"Well I shouldn't have" he said.
"It was an emotionally charged moment, George" she said.
"It’s not that" he said. "Well, not only that" he said, awkwardly pacing the room.
"What do you mean?" she asked, switching breasts.
"Merlin" George said, when he turned to look at her at precisely the wrong moment.
"It's a breast George. It’s not even a sexual thing, I'm feeding a baby" she said, rolling her eyes.
"We've been spending too much time together" he said.
"I beg to differ. I 've hardly even seen you in 4 weeks" she said.
"Well, that's… that's because…" he began.
"You've been avoiding me" she said.
George ran his hand through his hair and exhaled.
"You really have no idea" he said.
"About what George? What is it?" she asked, frustrated that clearly there was something going on that she was unaware of as her focus now, was on motherhood, nappies, feeding schedules and baby burps.
"For Godric's sake Hermione, I am falling in love with you" he spat.
Hermione looked at him, at George, the twin brother of the man she had loved with all of her heart. They look to each other in silence for what felt like the longest time, neither of them saying a word.
"See, this is exactly why I have stayed away. You don't need this. You don't need me around, reminding you of Fred, of what you don't have, all the while, me wanting nothing more than to give you all of that" he said.
"George… Please…" she said quietly as Fred was now dozing in her arms. She had no idea what to say. This revelation had come at such as shock to her, but as she thought about it, she wasn't quite sure that it had.
"Please what? Please go? Stay? What?" he asked.
"Please, just stay. Don't go" she said, not sure what to do or say here.
If she cast away the last 4 weeks, the time she and George had spent together had been great. She had done as she wanted and gotten to know him and realised he wasn't so identical to Fred after all. She hadn't even seen George in Fred's likeness in weeks, so the kiss that they shared in the bathroom, she had simply put down to an emotionally charged situation.
"I'm not going to ask you for something that you can't give me, or something you don't want. I just… You have to know. So now, when I don't come around, it's not because I don't want to, it's because I do. I really do. I do too much" he said.
"Don't stay away" was all she said, as she rested a milk drunk newborn Fred on her chest. He let out little puffs of air that Hermione recognised as his burps before she laid him in the middle of her bed, surrounded by pillows.
"I don't see another way" he said.
She straightened up and turned to face George. His eyes were sad, and his face torn. She saw it so clearly now. The eyes that were not the same as Fred's, but so very similar, looked at her in the way that Fred's had in the past. The longing, the desire, the hopeless, helpless 'I can't have you, but I want you' look.
She stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his torso, pulling him close to her.
"I know its selfish, but please, don't go away" she said into his chest.
"I'm not Fred" he said as he held her close.
"I know… I know. You're more different than I ever realised. But I've spent time with you George. I know you. We've talked about things that I haven't even told Ginny. I don't want you to stay away and I don't want to lose you. I don't know how much more I can offer besides that, but you must know that I care about you?" she said.
George pulled away slightly so he could look her in the eyes. Hermione's own tear-filled eyes looked back and it was at that moment that she realised it was now or never.
She knew that this would either be something she regretted or something amazing, so she took a leap of faith and stood on her toes, placing her lips on his.