To everyone who still hoped for this story to be updated, I'm sorry I made you wait this long, really. I could say that RL is a bitch, but this would be only half the truth. The other half is probably the worst writers block I ever had, and hopefully ever will.

This chapter ist dedicated to ZephrWiltshire, who was the only one who responded to my little question at the end of the last chapter and who provided me with a great idea. Thanks!

George was pretty shocked to feel his arms holding something that was violently rotating only to stare at the void a few seconds later. He gulped. This wasn't right, Hermione should have been there with him, having pudding with his family and her mum, laughing, being silly and so forth. But she wasn't, she had just disappeared, because his little brother had verbally abused her. It was only a matter of seconds until confusion turned into anger, but not the sort you can express in words, or even in actions, it was his trademark. George never let fury overcome him, he just eyed the object of his dislike very closely, until he or she got the idea that they were very, extremely deep in the shit.

"Are you done, Ron?" His voice was reduced to a dangerous whisper. "Or more important, are you happy now?"

Ron just stared at him, being very aware of the danger coming from his older brother. He had never been at the receiving end of one of the twins' fury, but just at that moment, he felt very small and frail. He had fucked up, and if he was lucky Hermione would eventually forgive him, because George was very likely to do so. So he just kept on staring at his brother, saying nothing, crumpling in an unnecessary effort to make himself smaller, maybe to disappear.

"I asked you if you were happy!" Ron gulped and raised his eyes to the level of his brother.

"I'm sorry…" he could feel the tears invading his eyes, threatening to spill over his freckled cheeks.

"I hope you know where you can stick your 'sorry' Ron."

Then, he just took his coat and made his way to the front door of The Burrow. With a last 'Merry Christmas, mum' over his shoulder he left the house, leaving complete silence and a crying Ron back.

-x-x-x-

When Hermione finally opened her eyes, she didn't see much. She felt cold, and wet, and around her everything was white. It took her a few moments to remember why exactly she was lying in the middle of a playground with nothing on but pants and a jumper. Partially it was because she didn't really want to think about what had happened back at The Burrow, and partially she did have to think about the details pretty hard, since the whole situation was a bit blurry in her head.

"Maybe I hurt it…" she mumbled into the dark, and sat down on a swing. It felt small, and too near to the ground, but still so familiar. Hermione took a second look and had to smile.

Around her, she saw an image she had seen every day along her childhood. This was the playground she had visited every afternoon, after kindergarten, and even through school she had been here, completely disregarding the weather or low temperatures. This exact swing had been the spot where she had sat after getting her first Hogwarts letter, and all the years that followed she had returned to her little sanctuary, only to read and reread the words that Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall had written for her and her fellow classmates, to learn the booklist by heart, or to just look at the wonderful ink both Professors used, and to smell the paper. It was silly, but going back to Hogwarts had always been tied to this ritual for her, and she had not once in her life missed one. It was her way of getting back into the spirit of magic prepare for a new year.

And now, she looked around, and she suddenly could see all the memories hidden in this place, the happy and the sad ones, and putting her arms around her round stomach, she closed her eyes and let herself cry, for the happy and the sad memories, for friendships found and lost again, for everything that had happened until then, because one thing was clear: she was no child anymore, but she soon was to take care of one, a child that no one apart from her and George seemed genuinely happy about, and the sadness just engulfed her, leaving her shaking from tears and coldness, on December 24th, on a swing just a few streets away from the place she had once called home.

-x-x-x-

George entered his flat and threw away the coat he had been wearing. He had tried looking for Hermione, but the truth was, and he had known it from the moment she had disappeared out of his arms, that if she did not want to be found, looking for her would be in vain. She probably didn't want to see him anyways. Besides, she had her wand with her, when the moment was there, she would come. He knew she would... he hoped she would.

-x-x-x-

Hermione stood up from the swing. She could see her wand lying on the ground in the snow, and tried to bend down to retrieve it, only to be hindered by the belly she was so proudly carrying around. She laughed and sunk to her knees to pick it up.

"Time to go home, little one."

As soon as those words had left her mouth, she froze. When she had uttered the word 'home', she had not thought about the little house she had spent her childhood in, neither about the big castle that was Hogwarts. In front of her eyes, she had seen the cozy couch in Fred and George's living room, and the little kitchen corner at the end of the room.

"Home is where the heart is, huh…" she muttered and disapparated into the night, hoping that George had showed enough common sense and had not left to look for her

When a few seconds later she stopped rotating on the spot and saw him lying on the blue couch, his wand clenched tightly in his hand, his red hair perfectly fanned out around his sleeping face, she knew he had. As quickly as she could she made her way to the other end of the room and gazed into Fred's room, only to find it empty. Wonderful, she didn't need someone else questioning her. He was probably at his girlfriend's place right now, which suited her perfectly. After a quick shower and warming up again, she kneeled down in front of her boyfriend's face, and kissed his eyelids.

When he opened his eyes and sleepily smiled at her, she took it as her clue to slip under the blanket and snuggle closer into him. They didn't need words. He was there for her, no matter what, and he was respecting her every wish, even if it meant letting her wander off to some cold place without a coat on. And she was there for him, no matter what.