Blessings ; George Weasley

Seventy

I was not far away from hitting my thirty-six week mark.

Nothing had happened.

I had seen Meg a lot though. My blood pressure had been really high for the last three days and I was having some really bad headaches.

On the day where I was thirty-five weeks and four days, George had called Meg about my headaches.

She said that if I had another one, we'd have to come in and have the babies.

I knew that it was about time, because in my previous pregnancies, my blood pressure would get really high the days before I'd go into labour so now it was just a matter of time.

It was Monday so while George normally would have to work, he stayed home today because of how bad I was feeling and because there was a big chance that I'd go into labour today.

"We're not telling your mother." I said to George as he made us some lunch.

The girls were being watched by Inez and Dove until the morning, so it was just George and I.

George glanced at me.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" I asked, and he shook his head. "Good. If we tell her when I go into labour, she'll just show up at the clinic and I'm sure she'll demand to be in the room."

"Would that be so bad? I mean... she is my mum. She's their grandmother."

I raised my eyebrows and let out a laugh.

"I will slap you! Are you the one who's gonna have to give birth? No... so why should you get to decide who's in the room or not?"

He didn't answer. He continued making the sandwiches for lunch, and I nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I thought so."

"Listen, I just want you two to get along!" He said. "She's my mum and you're my wife and I want to be able to go to birthdays or family gatherings without you two throwing some sharp remark at the other person."

"When have I ever done that, George? When have I done that when it wasn't to defend myself?" I asked. "Your mother was racist towards me, constantly questions you about being with me. She's basically always hinting for us to get a divorce and we've only been married for six months!"

We looked at each other and I was breathing pretty heavily, waiting him for apologising for defending his mother once again.

"I'm just saying I wish you could get along."

"Then tell her to respect me and maybe we will."

"That's all I ever do, Dahlia!" He argued. "Every time I talk to her and she talks about you, I tell her to shut up and not talk about you in the way that she does but I can't change who she is and she won't listen to me."

"Then why are we even having this conversation?" I asked. "All I asked was for you to not tell your mum when I go into labour."

"And I won't!"

"Thank you!" I mimicked his attitude. "Now will you have me excused? I have to pee."

Once I was finished in the bathroom, I walked back into the kitchen to see George sit at the table, a plate in front of him and one at the seat I usually sat in.

I sat down with a sigh and looked at George who was sitting with his phone.

"Don't you think I would want to get along with your mum?" I asked. "And your sister? I've tried to show them respect and nothing but... but they're making it so hard with how they treat me."