Work Text:
Hermione wasn’t sure how she had come to work for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes but she knew it was considerably more fulfilling than working for the Ministry. Her boys let her work on her own potions and spell creation in their lab and she kept their products well stocked.
Sometimes, like today, she worked the front of the store while they did something super secret in the back. Whatever this super secret was, it involved puppies and kittens. Several of each had appeared throughout the day, with one or the other twin disappearing with them shortly after she helped them chase the frightened animal down throughout the store.
It wasn’t until now that either twin had looked particularly worried about the outcome of whatever they were doing.
“Um… Hermione, could you come back here?” Fred requested.
“Let me just finish this up,” she called back to him, noting how he seemed unable to stand still — a sure sign something had gone terribly wrong. Quickly, she finished the display she had been creating and headed for the back room, nodding to Verity to let her know she was on her own.
Fred held the door open for her as she walked in, bumping into her as Hermione came to an abrupt stop. Of all the things she could have imagined, seeing George frantically trying to comfort a crying baby was not what she expected. There was clearly a silencing charm at work as she couldn’t hear the poor thing at all, but what in Merlin’s name were the two doing with a baby?
“Where did it come from?” she asked.
“We… um… we’re not sure,” Fred answered.
Hermione stared at him. “Explain,” she demanded, as she did every time they had to call her in for help.
“This new product is for Valentine’s Day. It produces a puppy or a kitten — mostly half-Krups or half-Kneazles — from a couple of special sources we’ve found who said the half-breeds are mostly unwanted. So we take the unwanted and give a small bit of the proceeds to the sources and it’s right romantic for the bloke to have given his lady.”
“Or the lady to have given the bloke,” George added, having finally calmed the baby. Hermione had to admit there was something very appealing about seeing him handle the little one.
“So this is a romantic gesture to also rehome unwanted animals,” she repeated for clarification.
“Yes,” they said in unison.
“We were going to give you a kitten. That’s how we thought of it,” Fred admitted.
“But somehow you got a baby?”
“Yes,” George said, looking worriedly down at the little thing in his arms.
Hermione shook her head. “Have you contacted your sources and made sure they didn’t have any babies they’re suddenly missing?”
“No,” Fred said, relief in his voice as he whipped out his wand and sent three Patronuses to ask.
“You seem to be doing well with the baby,” Hermione praised George.
“So far,” he said. “I’m just worried about what happens when they need a new nappy or food or… well, anything. All they came with was the ratty clothes they were wearing. I wrapped them up in this towel we had back here.”
Hermione blinked, realizing for the first time that the little thing was indeed swaddled in a shop cloth. “What do you mean ratty clothes?”
“I’m not going to risk uncovering the little mite to show you, but they’re dirty and threadbare. And the clothes we had growing up had already been through 3 boys before us. Believe me when I say these are so much worse,” George said.
Suddenly the first Patronus back arrived, a glowing Saint Bernard, and said with laughter in their voice, “No missing babies here, best of luck mates.”
“Damn,” Fred cursed, causing George to put his hands over the baby's ears as he shushed his brother.
“Well, I guess we better get some supplies,” Hermione said. “So that we have food and nappies and everything.”
When the next Patronus arrived moments later, it had the voice of Millicent Bulstrode. “You better not be implying I’ve had a baby. If rumor of something like that got out, my Mum would murder me and you. So no, no babies from here.”
“Merlin, if it’s not one of them, where else could it be from?” Fred worried.
Hermione bit her lip. She didn’t have a logical answer either. “Well, there’s still one more. And if we don’t know, we could put out an ad and watch for word in the prophet or on the Muggle tellies about a missing baby.”
“We can’t go out with it!” Fred cried.
Staring at him, George asked, “Why not?”
“What will people think?” Fred asked.
Hermione gave him an odd look. “That we’re babysitting? They’re hardly going to assume that you accidentally magicked a baby here. Well. Verity might, but she knows you better than most.”
“Fine,” Fred said. “Can I carry her?”
“How did you know it’s a her?” George asked curiously.
Fred shrugged. “I just feel like she is.”
Grumbling, George admitted his twin was right as he handed her over.
The third Patronus arrived just then, with a much more succinct answer. A kindly woman’s voice spoke. “I don’t have any babies to miss, but you know I do live next to that war orphan’s home, . I think they have a young baby. You could try there if you’re needing one.”
Mind turning, Hermione said, “That would make sense with ratty clothes, though I hate to think the orphans there aren’t given better things.”
“But… it’s been months. Why would there be a war orphan baby now?” George asked, looking down at the dirty blond hair of the infant in his arms.
“Maybe it was an older girl there who was pregnant,” Hermione suggested.
“Or someone didn’t want the baby after a Death Eater forced themselves on the poor girl. You know that happened more than anyone talks about. There might be a baby boom right now,” Fred said.
Hermione felt a little sick to her stomach at that thought. “There’s only one way to find out. We should go to the home and see if they’re missing someone.”
“After we get her some supplies. I don’t mind to buy her some things even if we don’t end up using them before we find her home,” Fred said excitedly.
The whirlwind the twins became in the store shocked Hermione. Before they left, they had nappies in every size “We don’t know what size she needs and she’ll use them all eventually, Mione”, four bottles with two different kinds of formula “She might not like that kind and the shopkeep said some babies will only take certain bottles”, enough clothes and pajamas for a week “Look at what she’s wearing, we can’t just leave her like that”, six baby blankets “It’s still winter and she was so cold when we got her”, and a small mountain of toys “Babies need to play, too.”
It was heartwarming to see the two men she loved doting on the baby. Hermione had never wanted to be a Mum — and couldn’t be thanks to her wartime injuries and scars — but something about this tiny one with her handsome duo made her long for it.
Finally, they left the store, shrinking all their purchases to fit in their pockets except the new clothes they had put on her and the bottle they had chosen to try first. Fred fed her as they walked along toward the orphanage, not far from the store they had stopped at.
When they knocked, it took a long while before the door was answered. The harried-looking older woman who answered the door first put on a simpering smile until she caught sight of the baby. “We don’t have room for anot—” Cutting herself off, the woman looked closer and screeched, “There’s the little bugger. Where did you find her? Come in, come in.”
The three of them stepped inside, looking around curiously. The place looked dreadful. It was dirty and had hardly any furniture. The children peeking their heads around corners were dirty and looked half afraid. Their clothes were just as pathetic as the baby’s had been, maybe even worse. It was not encouraging.
Fred clutched the baby a little tighter as they looked around, handing the bottle to George and moving to burp her.
“You don’t want to do that, Mister,” the woman warned. “She’ll spit up all over you. Ornery little thing.”
“I’m one of seven, Ma’am,” Fred answered. “I know what babies do.”
“And we can just Scourgify it away,” Hermione pointed out, thinking the whole place needed a good Scourgify. Someone had to be in charge of this place, and when Hermione found out who it was, they were going to regret their shoddy work.
“Well yes, I suppose you could. Squibs like me can’t, you see. And the children won’t help,” the woman said, glaring back toward the door. That explained some things.
Even though she had invited them inside, the woman made no move to take the baby. Hermione was dying to ask questions, but she wasn’t sure it was her place. More than that, she wasn’t sure the woman would answer, not with the state of this place.
“I don’t know how she got misplaced,” the woman said, nodding to the baby. “It was a mercy to the rest of us, of course, if she were gone, but I was worried—”
“What do you mean a mercy to the rest of you?” George demanded.
The woman’s cheeks went red as she began defending her mistake. “The youngest we had here before is five. It was nice not to have any babies. And she’s so young — only just come to us — the child of one of them Death Eaters. No one wants her, of course. She cries constantly and can’t be consoled. I’m surprised she’s not screaming her head off now.”
Fred, George, and Hermione began shooting off rapid fire questions, almost speaking over one another in their haste for answers.
“What have you been feeding her?”
“Where does she sleep?”
“Why didn’t she have a blanket when we… found her?”
“Why are her clothes so shabby?” Hermione demanded, then seeing the children looking around a nearby door, she added, “All their clothes?”
“Well there’s no money for them, is there? Any that had an inheritance had somewhere to go. The ones here weren’t wanted by anyone, so they’re stuck here with me. I’m not wanted anywhere either, so I know how to raise them so they know their place. It’s why they let me have this job — a squib watching over magical children.”
Hermione felt furious. There was no way they were leaving their baby here. She didn’t want to leave any of the children here, but this baby was theirs. She opened her mouth to say as much, but George beat her to it.
“What do we need to do to adopt her?” he asked.
“Don’t you need to talk it over with your wife?” the woman asked, looking the three of them over as though she wasn’t sure about them. Still, she wasn’t trying to get the baby back. It made Hermione sick to think she cared so little about her youngest charge.
“We’re of one mind about it,” Hermione declared. This woman didn’t need to know they were still just dating or anything else about them until there was paperwork to fill out.
The woman paused for a long moment, then shrugged. “Okay. You can have her. Let me get her things.”
“We’ve got her covered thanks, unless she has something from her mother,” Fred said.
The woman snorted. “Of course not. Just the standard things we have here. A donation to the home wouldn’t hurt in exchange for the baby.” Her voice sounded hopeful.
“Rest assured, we’ll be donating, but it’s going through the proper channels,” Hermione declared.
Grumbling, the woman said, “We won’t see any of it.”
“Oh, I assure you, you will,” Fred told her. Hermione knew the three of them would be throwing around their seldom-used status as war heroes and Fred and George as respectable business owners.
“What kind of paperwork do you need filled out?” George asked, clearly wanting to get out of here.
Rolling her eyes, the woman said, “No paperwork for that one. The Mum just knocked on the door and handed her off. She don’t got a proper name even.”
“What have you been calling her?” Fred asked, appalled.
“Baby… or little bastard. She’s a Death Eater’s brat. No one cares what she’s called,” the woman said.
Hermione rushed to ascertain the truth. “So this baby has no name and requires no paperwork.”
“She doesn’t exist as far as anyone knows. I was worried when she disappeared, but at least it wasn’t one of the good kids who are just poor and unwanted instead of a monster.”
“Our baby is not a monster,” George started.
Again, Hermione cut in. “We’ll just get out of your hair, shall we?”
“If you’re sure,” the woman said, clearly relieved.
With no further pause, the three left, baby still in hand. They were talking over each other as soon as the door closed behind them, all three of them furious. They were almost back home to the shop by the time the three of them ran out of steam.
“We just adopted a baby,” George said, his expression a little scared, but morphing into a grin.
“A baby with no name,” Hermione said, “Poor little thing.”
“What would you name her, love?” Fred asked.
Hermione thought for a moment. “I would love to honor Tonks, but I know she would hate us calling the baby Nymphadora but I don’t like Tonks as a name.”
“Look at her rosy little cheeks,” George said, stroking those cheeks with adoration. “Can we call her Rose?”
“Dora Rose Weasley,” Fred declared, “But we call her Rose most of the time.”
“I love it,” Hermione proclaimed.
“Mum’s going to be so happy she might forget to kill us,” George said.
“Oh Merlin,” Fred chuckled.
“I guess,” Hermione said, “We’ll need to set up the extra room as her bedroom.”
“Or…” Fred started slowly.
“We could all move…”
“To the cottage we bought…”
“For after we married,” the twins said, tumbling over each other to get the sentence out.
“Married?” Hermione asked. “I don’t think I’ve been asked.”
“Then let us make up for lost time,” George started.
“We’ve done this a bit out of order,” Fred said, laughing, “what with buying a house and having a baby beforehand…”
“But will you marry us, love?” George finished.
“I suppose since everything else I want is going to be in that cottage, I should accept you two as well,” Hermione teased. “Yes, Fred, George. Yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, with our family.”
“Mum’s definitely going to be too happy to kill us.”
