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Fleur feels like a house. Even though she isn't even vaguely house shaped. A very mild beach ball might be the closest term. She isn't as big as she should be for 12 weeks.

But here they are. Finally back in the Healer's office. A new Healer. That deals with "special magical needs".

Fleur is trying to see her feet over the top of her tummy. She is in a midriff baring top and long, long skirt. Because she is going to show off her nice skin even if it sticks out in funny places.

"I can still see my toez." With sparkly nail polish!

The healer, doctor person took blood and haven't returned yet.

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His eyes are rather riveted to her abdomen: they've only known for what seems like minutes but the changes aren't to be denied.

"I can still see your toes, too." That's a good thing; Bill sits next to her on the table, moving her hand to his own stomach. "I'm going to eat to match your size. We can both look as if we're expecting; how does that sound?" Laughing, he let air fill his lungs; he puffed out his stomach. "Now you won't have to go through it alone, and we can have a contest to see who loses their baby fat first."

Already, he likes this Healer better than the last one. Perhaps he's just more comfortable with the whole idea. The reason behind his comfort doesn't really matter. What matters is that Fleur gets what she needs from a concerned and caring Healer.

She knocks their shoulders together and giggles. "May be your mother will think I finally feed you enough. ...or that I can cook. Oh! You should have gotten fat sooner! Iz for the good of your very, very pretty wive'z peace of mind!"

Fleur puts a hand to his puffed up stomach. Very solemn, "Iz tripletz. Breast feeding will be fun for you."

"I'm sure there's some spell or other we can find to help out. Lactosis or something." There's a hugely mischievous grin on his face. "If I'm to have triplets, I suppose this means I need to stop borrowing the orange thong. It won't fit for much longer."

Laughing, he sneaks in a kiss to the side of her face, letting his stomach relax. "You don't really care what Mum thinks, do you? After all, I've not starved yet. And you are a very very pretty wife, and I love you a great deal." One hand moved to smooth over her silvery hair.

Baby. It's all a bit surreal.

She laughs and lays her head on his shoulder. "Je t'aime, aussi. Even when you say I steal all the sheetz." She tries to look innocent. "If I say 'no', will you be angry? Iz your mother."

And it is then that the Healer, doctor person comes in. This one is a woman, a Dr. Cassidy. Fleur rather likes her because she doesn't say things like 'research paper' or 'heavy documentation'. And she has purple hair. How can you not like a doctor with purple hair?

"Right. Sorry to keep you. Besides you are a good bit under the weight I want for you, Mrs. Weasley," the doctor waggles a finger with a bit of a smile at Fleur, "your blood tests did come back a bit odd. If you hop off there, Mr. Weasley, I got a theory to test." The Healer starts bustling about the room, picking potions and salves.

Mr Weasley hops off obligingly, but his wife's hand stays held tightly in his own. He'll have to answer the question about his mum (and stealing the linens) later; right now he's alert and aware and, like Fleur, he far prefers this Healer.

"What kind of odd, might we ask?" The underlying werewolf/veela question isn't so very far from being asked, but he won't do it. For once he can be less impetuous and more patient and bite his tongue, hold his thoughts, not rush to the anger everyone seems to expect from him.

Red hair has a way of bringing that expectation out in other people.

"Just a moment, just a moment!" the doctor says and waggles her free hand at Bill. She is spreading a salve over Fleur's bare stomach. "Now, Mrs. Weasley, this might tickle."

The healer runs her wand over Fleur's belly, and the vaguely machine like thing next to the bed lights up and projects something much like a sonogram. The barely there sound of a quick heartbeat echoes through the room.

Actually, that sounds like more than one.

"Just like I thought!" The doctor shouts. And points.

There are two, small, vaguely baby like, moving...balls on the projection. Two.

Yes, two.

"See here? And here? These are your babies. It's very odd, given your heritage, Mrs. Weasley. But, given your husband's family history," she offers Bill a bright smile there, "not entirely out of the question. You're having twins."

Fleur is just staring at the healer.

"..."

Then at Bill.

"..."

Then at the picture. That is moving. Those are moving! There are two people moving about inside her! TWO!

"...two?" She is touching her belly now and getting covered in the salve. "...you are two?" She is tugging on Bill's hand now. "Bill, Bill! There are two!"

TWO!

"I thought..."

Well, of course he thought that "something unusual" with the tests meant something negative, not just something... unusual. Still, he can finish his sentence without giving that fear away. "I thought twins tended to skip generations." Not that it matters, not in the least: cupping Fleur's face in his, he gives her two of the biggest public kisses ever.

One for each twin.

"Two." Salve and all, he gives her a huge bear hug. It's a good thing his face is buried against her, because that way this new doctor doesn't have to see the tears of joy streaming down his face.

"Two babies. Two perfect little children. Oh, Fleur, I..."

"See? Iz good. We get two now. Iz nothing wrong. Iz two!"

Fleur holds on tight. He was so sure it was something very wrong-- She will have a freak out moment later. After this two-ness can settle into her brain with all its double the joy, double the trouble wonder.

The healer is smiling to herself and waiting patiently before beginning her long, long talk on what to expect with multiple births.

"Let's don't name them Fred and George. One set of twins with those names is more than enough."

The relief flooding through him is almost unbelievably refreshing, like a dip in a cool pond on a hot summer's day. Slowly pulling away, Bill wipes his eyes, plants a kiss right on Fleur's lips, and finally moves away.

"Right, Doctor. Tell us what we need to do next, and tell us that apart from the wonderful news on twins that everything else looks fine?"

The doctor smiles. "Apart from the fact your wife needs to gain a good bit more weight, everything looks fine and normal." She waves her finger before Fleur can protest. "You need a good ten more pounds on you before the end of the month. Which is when you are next seeing me. Once you get in your third trimester, I want to see you once a week. Right now, everything looks great. But, once we get close to the birth, I might have to put you on bed rest. Here, have some literature!" She drops into Bill's arms many, many colorful pamphlets. "I doubt, Mrs. Weasley, you'll be able to come full term. The both of you should have a chat about if you want some sort of induced home birth or something more supervised. And...here we go!" More pamphlets! These are for Fleur! "Things to expect, suggested food items, and the things not to do! Which you know, of course. No alcohol, no smoking, and I suggest no caffeine." She beams. "Any questions?"

Fleur tries to find a way to phrase this politely. "...how much sex can we have?"

The doctor lets out a laugh and blushes just a bit. "As much as you want until your water breaks?"

"But she's all right: good." Bill gives Fleur a kiss on the cheek. "Mum will be happy to see you with more meat on your bones... so to speak." Gathering up all the pamphlets -- his and hers -- he tucks them away into a pocket.

He turns to the Healer, though. "When you say you doubt my wife will be able to carry the babies full term, how early do you suspect she'll be or can't you tell yet?" There was so much to consider. "And for how long will it be safe for my wife to travel? Is Apparition contraindicated?"

Life is always complicated, but with his job it's doubly so. He sees a switch back to the London office in his very near future.

"Most Mums don't last longer than 37 weeks with twins. Mrs. Weasley, I think, will be a good bit shorter than that. Veela have such short gestation periods. But I can't say anything concrete. We'll know more in a few weeks, Mrs. Weasley." As she wipes Fleur's belly clean with a smile. "If I think we might need it, I might start seeing you at least once a week soon than I first thought. You can travel and Apparate for the next six weeks, but after that, I want you in one place and hoofing about the old fashioned way. Anything else?" she asked with a smile.

Fleur blinks. "I am...I am still on thiz 'two bebes'. I...oh. When will we know the genders? Are they identical?"

"Well...they are in two different amniotic sacs. So they could be. And not just yet on the sexes. A few more weeks, and we might be able to cox the little ones to give us a peek."

Veela have short gestation periods? Who knew? Not Bill, and one more question springs to mind. "Doctor... with the baby -- no, babies -- being only part-Veela... Fleur's only quarter-Veela herself... how does the Veela shorter gestation factor into this? And is there any special preparation we need to do for them, in terms of differing from babies without Veela heritage?" His brain is absolutely spinning: he's gone from being certain there were problems to finding out about the twins to deciding to give up Egypt to...

"I'm a bit overwhelmed," he confesses. But happily so; he leans over to give Fleur a kiss to the top of her head. "But I promise these are my last questions. For today, that is." He knows he'll come to the next visit with a whole list... if Fleur lets him tag along.

The healer lets out a little laugh. "Well. You see. This isn't something that has a great deal of documentation. I...don't know. Most...magical races," she says instead of Dark Creatures, "keep these sorts of things to themselves. Your wife hasn't popped out an egg, so this should be more of a "normal" birth." She takes up both their hands. "Both of you. Take a breath. We'll figure this out! All right?" And she beams at them both. "You get yourself dressed, Mrs. Weasley, and I'll set up some things for you to take home to read. Get yourself settled! No rush!" And the healer exits.

Fleur blinks. "...Bill?" She pokes his ribs. "...are we really...?"

He can't not smile at her: she's his wife and he loves her, and she's so young and so beautiful and her eyes are a blue he never sees anywhere else. "Yes, love. We are. Really. Come, let's get you dressed so we can go home."

Once she's done dressing, he brushes back her hair and touches her tummy. "Two. We're twice blessed." The pamphlets the healer gave them already fill his pockets and he can't imagine needing more things beyond that, but she does return with a little booklet, more informational items, and some samples: bottles, coupons for diapers, things of that nature. And once she's dismissed them and they find themselves walking through the door, Bill can't resist pressing a kiss to Fleur's temple.

"Let's go home, love. We've got a lot of homework to do."

Only some of it is the healer-assigned reading material. The rest is something he hopes will be far more pleasurable for the both of them. "I love you, Fleur."

Twins. It shouldn't be as much of a surprise as it is; a bit of manly pride floods his veins. Twins. We're having twins.

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