SIXTY ONE
[cw: bit of smut in the first half,
nothing graphic as usual]

"YOUR BROTHER NEEDS a girlfriend," Rory said to Fred quietly, shutting the door behind her.

Fred sighed, unbuttoning his work shirt, "Any ideas? I mean we could try setting him up with Mar again —"

"Go all Parent Trap on their asses!" Rory beamed, but sighed when she saw his confused expression, "Sorry... it's a film from the sixties. These girls try and reunite their divorced parents and there's tons of... mischief involved along the way."

"Right," Fred nodded, his eyebrow raised, "Well anyways, he's still bloody in love with Marina. Have you two spoken lately?"

Rory nodded, "She's been writing every now and then... she listens to Potterwatch. Only caught a few broadcasts though since she can't really guess the passwords all the time. She's good at being cryptic in her writing, she's got a true talent. She wants to come by the shop but she can't bear to see George after he broke up with her. She was devastated. I don't think she wants to get over him, but I don't think she's ready to be with him again. Not until this is over. Does George feel the same?"

Fred shrugged, "Yes and no. He still loves her but it's different now. His main priority is keeping her safe. He's been trying to stay busy and get his mind off of it... he misses her terribly but he might just miss the company."

"Yeah," Rory agreed, "What can we do? Besides the Parent Trap thing... I dunno if that would work. I just want George to be happy, as well as Marina. It's easier for her though because Angelina isn't with anyone like how we're together. She isn't constantly reminded of her loneliness."

"Just tell Marina to come, if she does and George is working, one of us can send him off somehow. Maybe you can go to her and Angie's soon, too," Fred sighed. Rory sat on the bed next to him and climbed into his arms. He began playing with her hair as they sat in silence for a bit.

"Alright, I'll write to her tomorrow," she nodded, "as for tonight..."

"Right," Fred said slowly, "oh goodness... when was the last time we —"

Rory looked at him, "I believe it was before the wedding."

His jaw dropped, "No way! It's December, Rory!" He began silently counting on his fingers, "Five months?"

"Well I was hurt for a bit and then... well the news about my brother... we just haven't been in the mood for intimacy," she explained. However she was suddenly very much in the mood for it. She missed his touch, his warmth, his passion. She missed being vulnerable with him, exposed.

"Are you sure you want to?" He asked, grabbing his wand. She nodded and kissed him softly on the lips. Soft and slow, then deeper and more passionate, similar to their relationship.

"Muffilato," he mumbled against her lips. Rory rolled her eyes and grabbed her own wand, repeating the same spell at the door just in case.

Fred's hand slid underneath the fabric of her shirt, brushing over the cotton fabric of her bra and explored her chest as he kissed her. She pulled him closer by the back of his neck, placing her other hand firmly in his red hair. Her legs were carelessly intertwined with his, it became unclear where one body stopped and the other began.

He carefully pulled her shirt over her head and she did the same to him. Their pants were the next to go, and they were removed rather quickly.

Fred's hands roamed to her now more exposed lower half, sending small waves or pleasure up her body. She softly moaned against his lips as his fingers met her skin, finding their way inside her body. Her fingernails dug into his freckled shoulders and her breath hitched as pleasure filled her.

Sex was not a necessity in Rory's life or in their relationship, but it had been so long since they had felt simultaneous pleasure and as many times as she attempted to replicate his touch herself while she was alone, nothing could compare to being with him.

He was so loving, so gentle. Always showering her with praise no matter what they were doing. He began to pepper kisses down her chest, leaving leaving a dark purple mark on her, to Rory, it meant infatuation. It was something she would see later and be reminded of the fact that she was his and he was hers. Not in a possessive sense, but in the fact that their souls belonged to each other.

He unhooked her bra, much smoother than their first time he had attempted it. He playfully snapped the waist of her underwear and she giggled breathlessly against his sore lips. With swift motions, they were both fully exposed, their clothing that once clad their bodies now piled messily across their wooden floor.

"I love you," he whispered, "is it alright if we go on?"

She nodded, "Of course, please... I love you too."

He muttered the spell and they continued.

He was appreciating every inch of her body. Rory watched as he carefully moved his hips against hers and left kisses all down her neck and her chest. It was like she was a Monet painting hanging in a gallery. Each detail made up a masterpiece, and he wanted to enjoy each second.

Each moment it lasted was full of pleasure, but most importantly it was full of love. Every kiss, every stroke, every moan was coated in the pure love they had for each other.

His movement inside her unraveled her, tore apart her seams. She was undone in front of him. Truly vulnerable, all for him.

He filled her with his love and her vision, which was once looking in his coffee brown eyes, became white as her entire body trembled from his touch. She let out a cry, fingernails harshly scratching down his back. Her heart rate quickened and she was breathless. He fell beside her, seeming to be out of breath himself.

Rory smiled, looking at him... and then she began to feel strange. She grabbed her wand and muttered, "Accio clothes," and began dressing herself. As she covered her sore body, she felt tears sting her eyes.

Again? Really? All you do is cry, she told herself.

"Did I hurt you? Are you alright? What's wrong?" Fred asked, sitting up, he gathered his own clothes and dressed himself, then embraced her softly. He looked worried, terrified almost.

She shook her head, "Fred you haven't done anything wrong. I don't know why I'm crying. Goodness, I feel so fucking weak. I haven't been able to keep it together since the wedding and... nothing has gotten easier. I don't cry, Fred. Not for no reason! Who am I?"

"You're Rory," he said, kissing her shoulder, "and you're brave, and strong, and I love you. Crying doesn't make you weak, love. It doesn't even make you emotional, it makes you human."

"Then why don't you cry?" She asked, wiping her tears.

He shrugged, "I do, you just don't see it."

"Doubtful, Fred Weasley," she joked, "maybe it's just because we haven't done... it in a while... I forgot what it was like being so vulnerable like that."

"Was it alright?" He asked quietly.

"Were my reactions not convincing enough?" She giggled, "It was more than alright. C'mon, let's put on some music and maybe drown ourselves in Rosé."

Fred tiled his head, "So that proposal from a few months ago... the answer is still no?"

"Still no, love," she sighed. He huffed and got up, but as he did, he took her small frame with him and playfully threw her over his shoulder. She shrieked and coughed the hair out of her mouth.

"Freddie! Put me down!" She giggled. He carefully set her down as they exited the bedroom and went to the kitchen for the wine, while she put a record on. She decided to play Bohemian Rhapsody for him again, since she knew once he got used to it he'd be obsessed.

"I'm just a poor boy! I need no sympathy," she sang as Fred handed her a glass.

He smiled at her, "Here you are, m'lady... might I add you look ravishing tonight."

She rolled her eyes a took a long sip. As the song progressed in intensity, she became inclined to sing along.

"Who the bloody hell is Galileo?" Fred chuckled.

"World renowned astronomer and physicist! Champion of the heliocentric theory, which he was actually arrested for!" She explained.

"And what's the helio... whatever?"

"The concept that the sun is the center of the universe, not the earth. See, the Catholic Church didn't like that very much, thought the earth was the center of the universe —"

"It isn't?" Fred raised an eyebrow.

Rory sighed, "Of course not! Everything doesn't revolve around us... didn't you pay attention is astronomy?"

"Aw, you're funny, Ror," he rolled his eyes.

Rory opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Andrew's Patronus entering the room. She held her breath, learning that these things were seldom good news.

"Cordelia had the baby. Come to St. Mungos soon, no rush."

Rory gasped and set down her glass, "Fred, fire up the Floo Network! Oh my goodness, she had the baby!"

"Don't you think you should brush your hair first?" He winked. Rory groaned and ran into the bathroom. She fumbled around, attempting to clean the smudged mascara off her face as well as brushing down her tangled mop of shoulder length hair. Andrew had said no rush, but she was excited! She ran into the bedroom and changed her outfit into a jumper and leggings. Fred was in the living room, setting up their means of transportation.

"Bit earlier than expected, yeah?" Fred asked with a worried look, "You think she's alright?"

"I think so, Andrew didn't sound concerned," Rory said, grabbing her purse, "you ready?"

Fred nodded, "After you, love."

Rory smiled and grabbed the Floo Powder, throwing it down as she shouted the name of their destination.

She appeared in a haze of green and stepped out into the busy hospital. She hadn't been there since the Weasley's visited Arthur for Christmas years ago. The demeanor of the place had changed drastically. There was nothing cheerful about a hospital, but still... before what seemed like simple jinxes and injuries filling the waiting area were now melancholy mourners and what looked like inflictions of Dark Magic.

Fred appeared behind her and together they went to the Welcome Witch.

"Hello! We're here to see Cordelia Harrison!" Rory said quietly.

The witch at the desk smiled, "Andrew's daughter? He told me you'd be coming soon. We do deliveries on the ground floor. I'll need to take you, though, since it's a protected area."

"Why's that?" Rory asked from pure curiosity as the witch left the welcome desk.

"Here, follow me," she said, "it's hidden from the public because you never know who could wander about, and the last thing we need is an outsider, or even a patient, stumbling in on a delivery." The witch got out her wand and pointed it at a brick wall. Tapping a pattern, similar to how one got from The Leaky Cauldron to Diagon Alley. The bricks pulled away and revealed a smaller ward than the one Arthur had stayed in. Only about five or six small rooms were lined up across the corridor.

"Mrs. Harrison is room one sixteen, last door to the left," the Welcome Witch smiled and sauntered off, the brick wall closing behind her.

Rory smiled and Fred and together they walked down the hallway.

"Should we knock?" He whispered as they reached room one sixteen.

Room 116
Healer: Madame Jones
Patient: Cordelia Harrison
(baby born at eight thirty five!)

Rory pointed to the door which had... interesting signage.

Fred nodded, "Alright! She had the baby just... a few hours ago!" He knocked softly against the door as Rory was still looking at the door dumbfounded.

Wizards were still so strange to her.

"That must be Rory and Fred!" The muffled voice of Andrew came from inside the room. He slowly opened the door with a smile.

"Hi!" He beamed, "You two can come in."

Rory slowly stepped in. The room was a bit brighter than the one Arthur had stayed in. The walls were a pale teal color, the lights were a bit dim, but in a calming way. Cordelia was in the bed against the wall, a baby in her arms. She had just given birth, but was so beautiful still, bright and glowing.

"So..." Fred said slowly.

"Well," Cory smiled, "Meet your new baby sister."

Rory gasped softly and brought her hands to her face, smiling wildly, "Oh my goodness! What's her name?"

"Emily," Cordelia said, looking down at her daughter.

"Any suggestions for a middle name?" Andrew asked, "We felt like you should pick it, Rory."

Rory's face was nearly sore from smiling, "Really? I think it'd be cute if... she had a Shakespearean name, like you and your sister, Cory."

"That's a great idea, sweetheart," Cordelia smiled.

"How about... Viola?" Rory suggested, remembering one of her most recent reads. Twelfth Night, the story of a woman who masquerades as a man in order to find work, quite the badass in Rory's opinion.

"Emily Viola Harrison..." Cordelia said softly, "I love it. Do you want to hold her?"

Rory nodded, "Yeah."

She walked over to Cordelia and carefully took the baby from her arms, she was asleep, wrapped in a white blanket. Rory looked down at her sister, a tuft of light hair peaked out from behind the top of the blanket. Rory thought all babies looked the same, but there was something about little Emily that was so strikingly different. She was truly a beautiful baby, Rory knew one day she'd probably share the same brightness as her mother, or perhaps the fierceness of her father.

"Hey," Rory said softly to the baby, almost in a whisper, "you're my little sister! I've always wanted a little sister! It's nice to meet you, Emily. Welcome to the world, we're gonna make it good for you, just wait."