Barely Holding On

Chapter Two

"George, I...I'm...p-pregnant," the young woman whispered before collapsing before him. Without hesitating, he quickly reached out and caught her before she could hit the ground. Gently hoisting her up into his arms, he carried her back through the shop and up the stairs to his flat. He wasn't thinking, only running on instinct. That one word softly being repeated over and over again, a mantra running through his brain. Pregnant. He could hardly believe his ears. She was pregnant. He didn't have to ask to know that the baby was Fred's. He knew how close they had been. His heart fluttered a little at that thought. A piece of Fred was still here. He hadn't lost him completely.

Once he got to the upstairs flat, he gently sat her down on his couch before rushing to the bathroom for a couple of dry towels. He noticed how soaked her clothes were and knew he needed to get them off, but was hesitant to strip the poor girl. Pulling out his wand he pointed it at the prone form on the couch and whispered, "Enervate." Slowly her eyes opened. "Angelina, you need to get out of those wet clothes," he calmly told her while handing her the towels. "I can loan you some pajama pants and an old t-shirt of mine if you would like," he offered. She merely nodded, not trusting her voice. George quickly walked to his room and returned a moment later holding a pair of green plaid pants and an old Holyhead Harpies t-shirt Ginny had given him years before for Christmas. He had never really wanted to wear it, but couldn't tell his sister that. Angelina took the clothes with a whispered, "Thank you." He led her to the bathroom so she could change, and then proceeded to the kitchen to start brewing some tea. He had a feeling they were both going to need it.

Five minutes later, a much dryer Angelina emerged from the hallway, looking a little calmer, but still rather peaky. George steered her over to the couch, offering her a cup of tea in the process. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

She gave a wry laugh, "Oh, just peachy," she told him sarcastically before burying her face in her hands and sobbing again. "Damn hormones," she muttered into her hands.

"How long have you known?" he asked quietly, unsure how to comfort the distraught woman before him.

"A few weeks now," she told him, sniffling slightly. George immediately handed her a tissue. "Thanks," she said with a watery smile aimed at him before blowing her nose. "I didn't know what to do or who to tell. I've been staying with Katie since she is all alone right now," she told him, her tears subsiding for the moment. George put his hand on her back and started gently rubbing circles. "I am so sorry to barge in like this. I didn't really plan on unloading all this on you," she quickly apologized.

"Ang, it's okay, really," he calmly assured her. For some reason her presence wasn't as alarming as everyone else's had been. Instead of feeling the insane need to run and hide, he felt a strange pull towards the heartbroken woman before him. Ignoring those thoughts for the moment, he quickly pushed his mind toward assuring himself that the woman, and child, before him were okay. "Are you okay? Are you feeling sick? Have you been to a Healer?" his jumbled thoughts fell from his lips in a series of question. For a moment Angelina looked shocked, then her face broke into a sad smile.

"Yes I am okay, yes I feel sick, and yes I have been to a Healer," she told him. "You are worse than Katie," she added as an after thought. This made him smile. His muscles protested a little and he realized how long it had been since he had been able to smile. His poor face was out of practice.

"You shouldn't be out in the rain, you could make yourself sick," he scolded. "You are staying here tonight," he ordered, leaving no room for argument. He couldn't shake the feeling or explain it, but he needed her here. He needed to protect her and his brother's precious baby. The baby that would never know his, or her, father. That thought broke his heart.

"George, I couldn't, I've intruded enough already," she objected.

"No, please, Ang, stay," he said quietly. She looked deep into his eyes, searching for something, then nodded.

"Okay, but just for tonight, I'll be out of here in the morning," she told him. He nodded then left to get some clean linen for her. Taking out his wand he transfigured the couch into a cozy twin size bed. "Thank you," she whispered before rising up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

"You're welcome," he replied before heading to his own room to get some sleep, his potion forgotten on the desktop next to the letter to his parents.

George was awakened by the sound of running water. Glancing at the alarm clock next to his bed he noticed it was half past one in the morning. Slightly alarmed, he carefully extracted himself from his bedding and made his way down the short hallway to the bathroom. Gently tapping on the door he called out, "Angelina?" When she didn't respond, he inched the door open. He could hear muffled sobs coming from the shower. "Angelina?" he tried again. When she failed to answer the second time, he pushed the door all the way open. The first thing he noticed was the lack of steam. The room felt deathly cold. He took two large steps and jerked open the shower curtain without thinking. There he found Angelina huddled in the bathtub, an icy cold shower of water falling over her as she hugged her knees for dear life, sobbing so hard it sent daggers into his heart. "Ang!" he called out, not caring that she sat in front of him completely nude. She continued to sob, not acknowledging George in any way. He quickly turned off the water. She was shivering uncontrollably. Without thinking, he grabbed his robe off of the back of the door, throwing it around her shoulders and picking her up. She hardly weighed anything and he wondered if she had been eating properly. He carried her ever so carefully back to his room and laid her down in his bed. He pulled the covers up to her chin. Glancing around, he found his wand and performed a drying spell on her unbound hair before climbing onto the bed on top of the covers and lying down beside her. She rolled onto her side and clung to him, sobbing still. He ran his hands over her arms, attempting to warm her and stop the uncontrollable shaking.

"Fred!" she sobbed, his heart breaking at the raw pain contained in that one word.

"Shh..." he consoled her as best he could. "It's going to be okay. I'm here, Katie's here for you, my mum is here. We'll help you through this," he murmured words of comfort to her. As her sobs quieted down and the shaking slowly stopped he realized exactly what he had been saying. Yes, he thought, everything is going to be okay. It had taken something so drastic as Angelina's unplanned pregnancy to make him see what everyone had been trying to tell him. Yes, Fred was gone, but that didn't mean there was nothing left to live for. Angelina couldn't go through this alone. He didn't want Fred's baby to grow up without anyone to tell him, or her, all about their father. Someone would have to teach them the finer points of pranking. Somebody would have to show them all the secret passages of Hogwarts. Somebody would need to tell him or her all about Fred Weasley, and who better to do that than him? Who knew Fred better than he did? No one. His heart felt lighter than it had in months as he watched Angelina fall into a fitful sleep. He knew what he was going to do first thing in the morning. He was going to pour that potion down the sink, then burn that letter. Sighing deeply against his pillow, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

True to his word, the very first thing George did upon waking was take his blood red potion and dump it down the drain, then use his wand to light fire to the letter. Then he turned his attention to breakfast. He felt responsible for Angelina now and he wanted to make sure she was well fed and taken care of. Immediately he set to cooking anything and everything he could think of. He was determined to fix a breakfast his mother would be proud of.

He was just pulling the last of the bacon from the frying pan when a blurry-eyed Angelina walked into the kitchen. "George? What are you doing?" she asked in a confused voice.

"I was making breakfast," he told her proudly. "And before you ask, yes, it is eatable," he added with a smirk. He noticed her surprised look.

"Thank you," she said before carefully taking a seat across from him. She picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled on the end of it before turning to look at him again. "George...I...I want to thank you for last night, and I want to apologize. I don't know what came over me. Every now and then I just...I don't know, I guess I just lose it. I couldn't sleep and I only meant to take a warm shower, and then go back to bed. I..." she seemed at a loss for anything else to say.

"Ang, it's okay. Anyone who has been through what you have been through is allowed to 'snap' every now and then," he told her with a sad smile. He was finding that his smiles came easier and easier with a little practice.

"Just the same, I wanted to say I'm sorry and thank you," she told him while picking at the sausages he placed on her plate.

Trying to change the subject, he quickly asked her, "Would you like to borrow my owl to send Katie a message? I wouldn't want her to worry."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I completely forgot! Yes, please, before she goes ballistic." George walked over to his desk and took out some parchment and a quill and handed it to her. He watched as she quickly penned a short note, then folded it up and tied it to his tawny owl Hera. He took the bird and opened a window before allowing her to fly free. Then he turned once more to the dark haired woman sitting at his table.

"I've been thinking," he started slowly. "Maybe we should go see my mum," he told her. "I think you should tell her your news," he continued slowly, in case she should decide to squelch his train of thought. "I think she would like to know, but only if you are ready," he added quickly. Angelina seemed to ponder his comments for a moment.

"Will you go with me?" she asked timidly.

"Of course. I will be right there by your side," he assured her.

"Okay," she agreed after a moments pause. He gave her an encouraging smile.

"She's not that bad," he told her jokingly and was pleased to see a small smile grace her sad face.

"I know," she said as the smile broke through, lighting up her whole face.

They both finished their breakfasts in near silence. After he had cleared away the table and cleaned their dishes, he made his way into the main room of the flat. Angelina had already transfigured the bed back into a couch and had changed into her now dry robes from the day before. "I'll just be a minute," he told her before disappearing into his room. He quickly dug out a pair of clean trousers and a plain white button down shirt. He grabbed a pair of everyday black robes and threw them on over before heading back out into the main room. "Ready?" he asked.

"As ready as I will be, I guess," she answered with a hint of anxiety in her voice.

"We are going to Floo since I don't know if apparating in your condition is a good idea," he told her while holding out a tin full of powder.

"Okay," she said with a slight tremor to her voice.

"Hey, it's okay. I promise," he told her while taking a pinch of powder and throwing it into the fireplace. He pushed her towards the green flames very gingerly.

"The Burrow!" she called out before disappearing amidst a rush of flame. George quickly repeated the process and found himself standing beside a shaking Angelina in the cozy kitchen of his childhood home.

"Angelina?" he asked as he glanced at her. She looked a little green around the gills and he wasn't completely sure she wasn't about to pass out again.

"I...I'm okay, I just need a moment," she told him while taking a few deep breaths.

"Okay," he said while placing a supporting hand on the small of her back. "Mum!" he called out, wondering for a moment if his parents were even here.

"George!?" his mum cried out as she ran in from the living room. "Oh George! It's so good to see you! Oh, we were so worried! How are you? Have you been eating? I bet you are famished! Here, sit, let me get something going for you!" she rambled on, fussing over her son before she noticed the quiet figure standing slightly behind him. "Angelina?" she asked, surprised.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley. I hope you don't mind me coming in unannounced like this?" she asked with a small quiver in her voice.

"Oh! Of course not dear!! You look absolutely exhausted. Here, sit, I am going to feed both of you poor dears," she bustled them into seats at the table and set off for the pantry.

"Mum, it's okay, we've already eaten. We actually just came to talk, if you have a few minutes," he said, stopping his mother's fierce search through the food pantry.

"Oh," she said, sounding rather put out. "Of course, come into the living room where we can be more comfortable. I'm afraid your father is at the Ministry at the moment," she called over her shoulder as she left the kitchen.

"George!" Angelina whispered frantically. "I...I don't think I can do this...please, can you tell her?" she asked him with an edge of panic in her voice. George just nodded before taking her hand and following his mother out of the kitchen.

The three of them took seats in the small living room that had been the scene of so many wonderful Weasley family memories. George's heart ached to think how different Christmas and birthdays would be now, with one of their numbers gone. He carefully pushed those thoughts away as he focused on his mother.

"Mum, there's something that you should know," he started without preamble. He felt Angelina's hand clench his. "I don't really know how to ease into this, so I'll just say it." He took a deep breath and squeezed the trembling woman's hand. "Angelina's pregnant, Mum," he told her quickly. There was total silence. You could have heard a pin drop. "Mum?" he asked cautiously.

"Oh dear!" she cried before wrapping her arms around Angelina. She pulled back and held the frightened girl at arms length. "How far along are you?" she asked.

"Th-Thirteen weeks," she whispered.

"Congratulations dear! Oh, George, you are going to be a father! How exciting!" she cried, throwing her arms around her son.

"No! Mum, you don't understand," he cried, pushing his mother back. "It's not mine, it's...it's Fred's," he told her, his voice catching on his twin's name.

"Oh," his mum said, her eye's widening. "Oh, dear, I am so sorry," she murmured, her face turning scarlet at the mistake she had made. She then leaned forward again and engulfed Angelina in a famous Molly Weasley bear hug. George could see tears welling up in his friend's eyes as she clung to his mother. He could see his mother's shoulders start to shake and he knew she was crying, too. He gently leaned over and put one arm around Angelina and the other around his mum. Together the three of them cried, clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. Which in a way, maybe they did. George realized then the pain he must have been putting his mother through. He felt shamed by his selfish actions over the last couple of months. He vowed never to cause his mother that kind of pain again. He needed her and she needed him to start the healing.

After several minutes of pained silence, Angelina spoke, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley, we should have been more careful," she said while silent tears ran down her face.

"Oh, dear! Don't say that. I'm not sorry, not one bit. You and Fred have done something wonderful! You have created a life and now, well, now there is a small part of him left in this world. This baby is his gift to you," she told the young woman. Angelina leaned forward, engulfing his mother in another hug as the sobs returned tenfold. George watched his mother gently rock Angelina until the poor thing fell asleep, dried tears marking her beautiful face. He helped his mother lay her on the couch, then ran to the hall cupboard and grabbed an old afghan to cover her with. He watched her sleep for a moment before walking with his mother into the kitchen to help her start lunch.