Time Is Galleons

I crossed off the date on the calendar next to the window that was on the side of my bed. It was already the middle of May. I couldn't believe how fast time was flying by. A little over a month and we would already be heading home for the summer holiday. Time really flew.

I threw on a baggy shirt and my normal pair of jeans and headed downstairs that lead to the now-too-warm common room. Sure, the weather in Scotland wasn't exactly hot, but some arseholes loved to just keep the fireplace going when it was completely unnecessary.

Ron, Hermione, Harry and the twins were all sitting on the couches by the fireplace. I walked over to them, fanning myself with my hand. "You lot do realize, it's hot in here, right?"

George gave me a weird look, "coming from the one that's always cold? It's comfortable in here, it's not that warm." He reached out his hand to put on my forehead but I had swatted his hand away. "You're not getting sick again, are you?"

"No, I'm not sick." I stated, a bit irritated.

"Bloody hell," I heard Fred say. Before I knew it, I was blind and everything had gone from crystal clear to completely blurry. Fred now had my glasses in his hands, examining them. "They're bloody filthy. You've got to wash these more. How do you see through these?" He questioned.

I crossed my arms, waiting for them. This heat was getting the best of me. I was growing impatient. "Thank yo—hey!" I said as Fred seemed like he was going to give me back my glasses, but then he had stood up and held them over my head. I should have known, "give them back Fred!" I shouted, reaching up for them. Everyone always got a good laugh out of it when Fred did this. I, too, sometimes—most of the time laughed. I was definitely the shortest out of the lot. Mostly everyone was 5'6" and over.

"Abbie. . .have you gained weight? You look. . .well, bigger." Ron said slowly, being as oblivious as ever.

"Ronald!" Hermione yelled at him, swatting his arm with the book she had in her hand.

I looked down at my stomach and realized that my shirt was pulled up. I quickly shoved it back down and covered myself with one hand, putting on my glasses with the other. I could feel my face getting bright red. I was appalled by what Ron had just said. I thought no one had noticed that I had gained weight. Or maybe just no one wanted to say anything—but to hear a best friend of mine say it in front of other friends. . .I thought I was going to die.

"Fuck off!" I spat, hearing Hermione gasp at my swearing.

I saw George slap Ron across the face before I turned and hastily started walking up the stairs to the girl's dorms. I could hear George jump over the couch. It was only seconds before I could hear him struggling and falling down the stairs that had turned into a slide behind me. Did I mention Professor McGonagall fixed the stairs leading to the girl's dorm?

"Abbie!" George's voice called. "Abbigail, come on! Ron's just a git! At least come to my room and talk to me!"

I sat at the top of the stairs for a good five minutes, listening to George calling for me, trying to talk to me and attempting and failing to get up the now slide to the girl's dormitories. I soon gave up as I couldn't bare to hear him struggle anymore. I made my way back down to the bottom stair and looked at him, trying my hardest not to cry.

He said nothing as he grabbed my hand and dragged me all the way to his dorm room. He looked around the room and shooed everyone who was in there. After there was no one left in the room, he just stood there at his stature of six feet and three inches and just stared.

"You're not telling me something, are you?" He asked sternly. It was rare that George would use this tone.

A noise couldn't even escape my mouth as I could feel my face start to burn, my nostrils flare, my lips frowning and my eyebrows knitting as I looked in the other direction. Tears threatened to spill as I said nothing.

"Abbigail," he started, "there's something for months that you haven't told me, isn't there?" It was then, the tears started spilling. I didn't expect them to flow quickly, but they did. I just kept staring in the other direction, my arms covered my stomach automatically.

The next thing I knew, George was sitting on the edge of the bed and he was pulling me in front of him. He was trying to pry my hands off my stomach, but I wouldn't let him. I didn't want him to see, I was scared—terrified. I stood there, trying to fight his hands off me as tears flowed down my cheeks. Eventually, I couldn't force him off me anymore. I covered my face and sobbed into my hands. He forced me to stand so my side was facing him as he lifted up my shirt.

After a few moments he stood and let my shirt drop. "How long did you plan on keeping this from me!?" He yelled louder than I had ever heard him before. I tried to speak, but I just sobbed more. "Well!?" After I couldn't even choke out a word, he stalked out of the room, yelling that he couldn't even stand to look at me right now and how could I have kept that from him. The door slammed so hard behind him, I thought it was going to break.

It wasn't long before Fred found me on the floor, curled up in a ball, sobbing hard. I felt him pick me up and place me on his lap as he sat on the floor. I threw my arms around the back of his neck and cried into the corner of his neck and shoulder. He rocked me back and forth slowly while he wrapped his arms around me.

"Love. . .what did you keep from George? I've never seen him so angry. . ." Fred whispered.

"I'm pregnant, Freddie."