This story takes place about fifteen years after Hogwarts (for Hermione, that is. For George it's seventeen years).

As always, on with the story...

***

At about eleven o'clock he finally decided to wake her up. She had been sleeping for almost fourteen hours. Slowly he trudged up the winding staircase to their bedroom, and opened the door which creaked as he pushed it.

"Hermione," he whispered climbing onto the bed. "It's time to get up..."

She stirred and opened her eyes, staring at him.

"What time is it?" she asked groggily.

"Almost eleven," George said, and she groaned.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?"

"I wanted to give you some peace," he explained.

She fell back onto the soft pillows and sighed. "Speaking for peace - the house is quiet. What did you do? You didn't use a silencing charm, did you?"

"Of course not," he said, stroking her hair. "Uncle Ron came by to take them out for the day."

"Ron's got the kids? He's barely more mature than them!"

"You know that's not true!" protested George. He paused for a minute and then said "Okay, so maybe it is true, but you know he's good with them."

"I suppose so," said Hermione grouchily. She pulled back the bed covers and groaned. "I'm huge!" she complained, looking down at her heavily pregnant stomach.

George smiled. He always thought that she looked beautiful when she was expecting, and being married to a Weasley, that was more often than not. His smile widened as he recalled a memory from about four years before.

"What is it?" she asked, noticing the smile. "Are you plotting something, Mr Weasley?"

"Of course not, Mrs Weasley!" said George, with a grin. He kissed her on the forehead and then said "Do you remember the first time?"

"The first time what?"

"The first time we found out you were expecting?"

It was Hermione's turn to smile. "Of course - how could I forget? Even Ron realised before we did!"

Four years before...

With a groan George got to his feet to see who had rung the door bell. Peering out of the small window beside the door, he caught a glimpse of two redheads and a man with black hair.

George opened the door a crack and looked out. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Do we need a reason to visit our brother and our sister-in-law?" said one of the redheads; Ginny.

"Yes," said George with a grin. "Don't you have anything better to do than bother us?" he asked jokingly.

"No," said the man with black hair. It was, of course, Harry. "We have nothing better to do."

"Plus, it's right around lunch time and we're hungry," said Ron, the other redhead. Ginny hit him in the stomach.

"Who is it?" called Hermione, coming out of the downstairs bathroom.

"Three weirdoes," replied George as Hermione walked over to the door.

"Hi!" said Hermione, when she saw who it was. "Come in."

"I was just about to invite them in!" said George as Hermione glared at him.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?" asked Hermione, as they settled down in the spacious living room.

"We thought we'd come and visit you," said Harry, sitting down in one of the plump red armchairs.

"Plus I'm hungry!" piped up Ron.

"When are you not?" asked Hermione with a smile. "I suppose it is almost lunch time. I'll get us something to eat..." she said and she covered her mouth with her hand. "Right after I go to the bathroom..."

The three guests stared after her as she practically ran out of the room. They then looked at George for an explanation. "She's given herself food poisoning," he said with a shrug.

"You let her cook?" asked Ginny, and Harry and Ron grimaced. They all knew how bad Hermione was at cooking from past experiences. Even after lessons from her mother-in-law, Molly Weasley, Hermione could still only cook the basics, and even then they didn't taste too good.

George nodded grimly. "She tried to cook a romantic meal a few days ago, but it was so awful that I could only eat a few mouthfuls. Hermione, however, insisted on eating the entire meal."

The others laughed at this, knowing full well that Hermione never admitted defeat, and would eat anything that she had cooked. She was the only one who would.

Hermione came back a few minutes later, sipping a glass of water.

"So how do you guys feel about sandwiches?" she asked, and everyone nodded, before Hermione tried to make anything more complicated.

Everyone followed her out into the kitchen, which although Hermione didn't use very much (thankfully), she kept in pristine condition. With a few waves of her wand, Hermione had conjured up a large plateful of sandwiches, which Ron helped himself to before she had even set it down on the table.

"So how are you three doing?" asked Hermione, taking a small bite out of a sandwich. "You haven't come around for ages!"

"We've been busy," said Ginny, considering which sandwich to take. She eventually picked one and bit into it before making a face. She pulled the bread apart and picked out a piece of tomato which she dropped onto her plate.

"How is Draco, anyway?" asked Hermione, while George and Harry started talking about Quidditch.

Ginny blushed, but didn't say anything.

"We visited mum the other day," said Ron, helping himself to his fourth sandwich.

"How is she?" asked George, as his and Harry's Quidditch conversation came to a pause.

"She's fine," said Ginny.

"She was doing some knitting," said Harry.

"What's new about that?" asked Hermione. "It is almost Christmas, after all."

Hermione was sure she heard Ron mutter something that sounded distinctly like "I hate maroon."

"She wasn't knitting jumpers," said Ginny, brushing a lock of her red hair out of her eyes.

"I'm pretty sure they looked like baby booties," said Ron with a smile.

"Is Penelope expecting again?" asked Hermione, referring to Percy Weasley's wife.

"They weren't for Penelope," said Harry.

"Then who?" asked George, absent mindedly. None of the other Weasley brothers were in serious relationships except for Ron, but the girl he was engaged to had told him straight away that she didn't want children until they'd been married for a while.

"Well, you two have been married for just over a year and there isn't even a sign of any kids yet. I think mum's getting worried," said Ron. Hermione and George had dated for almost ten years before they had finally got married, and a couple of weeks before they had celebrated their first anniversary.

Hermione frowned and took another bite of her sandwich, which she was eating very slowly. "We don't want children yet," she said, looking at George, who nodded.

"Hermione's right," he said.

"I'll be right back!" said Hermione, running out of the room quickly. A couple of second later they heard the door of the downstairs bathroom slam shut.

Ginny, Ron and Harry exchanged a look. "Could be," muttered Ron, and Ginny nodded slightly.

"Are you sure she has food poisoning?" asked Ginny slowly, looking at George with a strange look on her face.

"What else would she have?" asked George, confused.

"What about morning sickness?" asked Ron.

Laughing came from the doorway. They turned around and saw Hermione standing there. "Morning sickness?" she asked, weak with laughter. "Whatever gave you that idea?" she said, sitting down at the table again.

"Hermione, that's the second time you've thrown up since we got here," said Harry.

"I'm not pregnant," Hermione said firmly, taking a sip of her glass of water.

Ginny pulled out her wand, with a sly smile on her face.

Hermione stood up. "What are you doing?" she asked nervously.

"If your so sure you're not pregnant you won't mind us doing a little prediction spell," said Ginny, pointing her wand straight at Hermione.

"I don't want you doing a spell on me!" Hermione said. She was backing away from Ginny. She now had her back pressed up against the wall.

"If you're pregnant you'll have like a blue aura, and if you're not it'll be pink," explained Harry. Ron was holding an angry looking George back.

"No!" said Hermione, her eyes closed, as Ginny cast the spell.

There was a moment of silence before Hermione opened her eyes again.

"Uh, congratulations?" said Ron, and Hermione looked down at her hand. There was a definite blue aura surrounding her.

Hermione then fainted.

"Wake up, Hermione!" said George, soothingly. Hermione's eyes fluttered open. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I had a strange dream," said Hermione. "I dreamt that Ginny, Ron and Harry came around for lunch and that I was pregnant."

Someone in the room coughed, and Hermione looked over. She was lying on the couch in the living room, and sat across the room from her were Ginny, Ron and Harry. Ginny gave a small wave, and Harry and Ron looked nervous.

"It was real, wasn't?" asked Hermione, weakly.

George nodded. "Looks like we're going to be parents," he said smiling and he kissed her, while the other three clapped and cheered.

In the present...

"How long was I unconscious?" asked Hermione.

"I dunno," said George with a frown. "About half an hour, I suppose."

There was a loud crash downstairs, and then the excited voice of a young child could be heard. Light footsteps sounded up the stairs and a second later the bedroom door flung open. A second later a three-year-old redhead jumped onto the bed where his parents were talking.

"Mummy! Daddy!" he cried.

"Did Uncle Ron bring you back early?" asked George, and the little boy nodded.

"I'd forgotten how active they are," said the voice belonging to Ron Weasley. he was standing at the door, holding a eighteen-month-old baby boy in his arms. "You're still in bed at this time of day?" he asked.

"You're a fine one to talk," said Hermione. "Florrie tells me you don't get out of bed until midday most days!" Florrie was Ron's wife.

Hermione clambered out of bed, and took the toddler into her arms. "Hello, Thomas," she said to the toddler. The toddler smiled.

"Mummy!" he said happily.

Hermione smiled, brushing a lock of flaming red hair from the toddlers face. She kissed him on the forehead. Suddenly she put him on the floor and clutched her stomach.

"I think it's time..." she said.

***

Okay, that's the end. I'm NOT going to write a sequel to this, though I may write some more Hermione/George stories if I feel inspired.

Review, flame, whatever.