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Part 1: The Rules of Attraction
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If Hermione had to be perfectly honest with herself, she had to admit that the first time she had noticed him was right after the disastrous Yule Ball of her fourth year. Well, that's not to say she hadn't noticed him before, but she hadn't really noticed him as anything more than the older brother of her best friend.
She had stormed up to the girls' dormitories after telling Ron off that if he didn't like the fact that she had gone to the ball with someone else, he should have asked her out first, and not as a last resort. None of the other girls in her dorm room had returned yet, which was just as well. She didn't think she could handle them at the moment. Not when she felt like bursting into tears at Ron's ability to be a total prat. She didn't want to deal with anyone at the moment, preferring instead to throw herself down on her bed and bury her face in her pillow. She let out a muffled sound halfway between a scream and a sob.
And that was when he walked into her room, as if going into girls' dormitories was something he did every day. She would have thought it was one of her idiotic roommates at first, if it hadn't been for the fact that he walked right up to her and began talking.
"You should give him one of these," he said, holding something in his hand. His voice startled her, and she quickly shifted positions so she was sitting up in her bed, furiously wiping away any tears that might have spilled. He held out a sweet wrapped in yellow cellophane for her, smiling. "Canary Cream, so everyone can see just how yellow he really is."
Hermione reluctantly took the sweet from him, and gave him a questioning look. "How did you get up here? The stairs are supposed to turn into a slide whenever a boy tries to climb them."
He chuckled. "You know us. No challenge is too great for a Weasley twin."
Hermione slowly nodded, looking at the Canary Cream in her hand. "So, er, where is your twin? I've never seen one of you without the other."
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Fred's still out with Angelina," he said. His tone of voice sounded light-hearted enough, but Hermione could tell there was some bitterness behind it.
She frowned. "What about your date? Who did you go with?"
He sighed exaggeratedly. "Alas, my forbidden romance with the giant squid was not meant to be. McGonagall said there was no way I could take the squid to the ball, as the tank alone would take up half the Great Hall. So I went alone." He shrugged. "That, and I think the squid's been cheating on me with Filch's cat." He smiled.
Hermione laughed. "You would try to take the giant squid to the ball."
George smiled. "What, you think I wouldn't have if I could have?"
Hermione looked down at her hand, which still held the Canary Cream. "Your brother's a prat," she said, stating the obvious.
George shrugged. "I'd ask 'which one', as you could be referring to any of them for any number of reasons, but we both know which one you mean." He placed a finger under her chin, gently lifting her head up so she'd look at him. "Use it well. You deserve better. You deserve someone who's not going to make you cry." He smiled at her again, and turned away, walking back to the door.
"George?" Hermione said, standing up. He paused briefly, glancing over his shoulder. She smiled at him. "Thanks."
He gave her a mock salute, smiling. "Anytime, Granger."
Yes, that was probably the first time she'd really noticed him. There had been no reason for him to follow her up to her dorm room, or to try to cheer her up. And he had succeeded in cheering her up when all she had wanted to do before was scream or cry or both. Instead, she had laughed and smiled.
After that, there were times when they were sitting in the common room when she'd occasionally find herself looking over in his direction, if only to watch him as he laughed and joked with his friends. She would be careful not to let anyone catch her looking over at him, of course, and if anyone ever asked, she'd tell them that she was just keeping an eye out for the twins to make sure they weren't up to any mischief. After all, they were notorious troublemakers, and she had a reputation for being straight-laced and uptight. There was no doubt she'd make prefect the next year. Still, she carried the Canary Cream he had given her around with her constantly.
She finally used it one morning at breakfast in the Great Hall one day in April. The night before, Ron had been especially insufferable, expecting her to do his homework for him. "Look at all the homework I've got!" he'd said. "There's no way I can get it all done in one night! And you enjoy doing that sort of thing, anyway."
She had snapped at him that it was his own fault for letting his homework pile up the way it had, but eventually relented. It wasn't because she wanted to, but it was because she was just so tired of the same argument. She wasn't just some brainy little bookworm that had nothing better to do with her time. But even after she relented, he didn't bother to thank her. Instead, he said, "That's our Hermione." And then he went off to somewhere or another, leaving her alone with her homework as well as his.
She wasn't sure what time it was when she had finally finished, but she knew that sometime around ten she had taken a brief break to stand up and stretch out. It was then that she caught George watching her with a questioning look. He didn't have to say anything, but she knew he was wondering why she put up with it. She had to wonder that herself.
So the next morning at breakfast, under the guise of 'apologizing' to Ron for snapping at him the night before, she gave him the Canary Cream as a 'peace offering'. For a few baited seconds she waited as he ate the sweet, and then joined in with the laughter of the rest of the Great Hall as Ron turned into a giant canary. Later during that same breakfast after Ron had turned back to normal, she glanced down the Gryffindor table to where the twins were sitting. George glanced back at her, smiling. Maybe it was her imagination, but it looked to her like he'd winked at her. Feeling courageous, she winked back.
As her fourth year drew to a close, there hadn't really been much more contact between them, although she'd sometimes find herself looking in his direction in the common room. She noticed that with increasing frequency, George would only be hanging out with Lee, as Fred began to hang out with Angelina more and more. And even then, sometimes Lee would take off to be around Alicia. If Hermione's roommates Lavender and Parvati were to be believed, Lee and Alicia were an item. Whether it was true or not, George would often head back up to his dormitory if Alicia or Angelina approached. Sometimes, Hermione felt like following him, but couldn't think of a single good excuse she could give, so remained where she was.
The summer between her fourth and fifth year, she had stayed at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, 12 Grimmauld Place. Sirius Black's childhood home was a gloomy place, although everyone tried to make the best of it. During the day, they would try to clean up the dark and dusty abode, throwing out anything that Sirius did not want to keep, and trying to get some of the grime cleared away.
It was one night towards the end of July that they had decided to play a game of Truth or Dare. She, Ginny, Ron, and the twins were gathered in the twins' room. There were a few open bottles of Firewhisky that were being passed around 'to loosen lips and lower inhibitions'. Hermione did not approve of that one bit, and made her opinion very well known. Still, she took a few drinks after Ron accused her of being 'too uptight'. She didn't drink enough to get drunk, but she did feel the alcohol's effects as the game progressed. She supposed that she would blame the alcohol for some of the things she did during the game, such as daring Fred to declare his undying love for Professor Snape next time the Potions professor was at headquarters, or forcing Ginny to admit that yes, the younger girl had kissed Neville Longbottom at the Yule Ball, but it was awkward and they both decided not to pursue anything beyond friendship.
It should have come as no surprise to her when Ginny later dared Hermione to kiss one of the guys in the room. "And not just a simple peck on the cheek," Ginny said, eyes twinkling devilishly, "I'm talking a real kiss, with tongue action. A French kiss."
Hermione froze. According to the rules of the game, one could not back out of a dare. She would have to kiss one of the guys. But which one, was the question? Even though it was just a game, she had no desire to kiss Fred. He was with someone, anyway, and game or not, that could just be awkward. She could kiss Ron, but when he made a face and turned to Ginny, saying that was gross because Hermione was like another sister, Hermione made up her mind. She crawled to the middle of the circle, acting like she was going over to Ron…
And then turned to George, who was sitting next to Ron. She placed her hands on his shoulders and brought herself closer to his very surprised looking face. Closing her eyes, she placed her lips against his. It wasn't as if she had never kissed before. She had kissed Viktor Krum last year, but hadn't really enjoyed it as much as she thought she would. He was just too rough and harsh.
Kissing George was different. His kiss was gentle, almost shy. That he was a bit tentative at first came as little surprise, since he probably hadn't expected her to kiss him. Still, he kissed her back, softly placing his hands on her sides as she wrapped her arms around him. She hesitantly flicked her tongue against his, tasting him. He tasted of Firewhisky and cinnamon, as well as something sweet she couldn't quite put her finger on. She felt him deepen the kiss slightly, moving his tongue against hers.
The sound of whooping and laughter brought them back to reality. She pulled away from him, blushing furiously. She had almost forgotten where they were, and that there were other people in the room. Fred cracked some joke about how they should get a room, which only made her blush harder. For the rest of the night, she spent most of her time looking at the floor unless forced to look at someone. At no point of time would she look at George, as she needed to regain control of her flushed cheeks at some point of time.
The next morning as they were getting ready for breakfast, Ginny had apologized for the dare, saying that she had thought that Ron and Hermione had a thing for one another, and was trying to help them along.
"Ron is one of my best friends," Hermione said. "I don't appreciate him taking me for granted, but he's just a friend."
Ginny contemplated that for a moment as she ran her hairbrush through her hair. "Yeah, but why George? That's a bit arbitrary, don't you think?"
"Not really," Hermione said, pretending to be absorbed with tying her shoelaces. "I don't want to lead Ron on to believe I feel anything more than friendship towards him, and Fred already has a girlfriend…" She let her voice trail off. She couldn't admit that part of her had wanted to kiss George Weasley, even if she hadn't realized it quite yet at the time.
After that, there was a sort of unspoken rule between them not to mention the kiss again. Hermione had been half-afraid that Fred and George would tease her about it mercilessly, but neither of them ever mentioned it. Well, Fred seemed like he was going to a couple of times, until he was elbowed by George. Ron seemed like he was pretending that it never happened, and Ginny had the tact not to bring it up again. As the summer drew to a close, Harry came to Grimmauld Place as well, and the kiss between Hermione and George was never mentioned.
As her fifth year began, she threw herself into her studies, prefect duties, and knitting hats for the house elves, trying to forget about that night. She was a plain, ordinary bookworm, and had standards to keep up, after all. Not even a few days into term, Ron was falling back into his old habits of expecting her to 'help' him with his homework, by wanting her to do most of the work. He apparently had not learned his lesson.
It also seemed that her so-called friends had not remembered her birthday again, as not one of them wished her a 'happy birthday' or anything when September 19 came around. She didn't expect anything in the way of presents or a card or anything, but an acknowledgement would be nice. Harry was excused, as he was rather distracted with his detentions with Professor Umbridge, but Ron had no excuse, aside from acting like an insensitive prat. Why, after dinner, he once again had asked her to 'help' him with his homework, to which she coolly replied by gathering her belongings and heading back to her dormitory. It was then she noticed that on her bed, there was a small box, wrapped in what appeared to be bright yellow wrapping paper with a purple bow. There was a card attached to it, which she curiously read after setting down her belongings.
'For those who need to be taught a lesson,' the card read. There was no name written down to indicate who it might be from. Unwrapping the present, she laughed when she saw the box contained six wrapped Canary Creams. Two of them were used the very next day during lunch on Ron and Harry.
Her prefect duties would often call her outside of the common room, but she was still there often enough to notice that Angelina and Alicia were hanging out with Fred, George, and Lee, often times with their friend Katie in tow. From the gossip packed conversations she would overhear between Lavender and Parvati, it seemed that sometime in mid-October, Katie had been seen snogging with George somewhere in the proximity of the Astronomy tower. When Hermione had heard the news, it felt like someone had stuck an icy dagger into her heart.
She didn't know why she felt that way. After all, there wasn't anything going on between her and George. It certainly wasn't as though she liked him or anything. But some small part of her wished that it had been her seen snogging with George in the proximity of the Astronomy tower. Not that she ever would snog him there, as everybody knew that was the first place that professors and prefects checked for amorous students. And it's not like she would be snogging him in the first place, as he was the older brother of one of her best friends, and dating the siblings of your friends was one of the biggest dating no-no's, according to Lavender and Parvati, whose inane conversations were a fount of useless information.
One night towards the end of October, though, as she was returning to the common room from patrol duty, she took pause as she was halfway through the portrait hole. In the center of the common room, Angelina and Katie were standing in front of Fred, screaming at him for tricking them both, with Angelina throwing in a few choice comments about him being a 'two-timing expletive deleted'. And she actually had said the words 'expletive deleted' before elaborating on just what expletives she had deleted.
As Hermione slowly stepped into the common room, letting the portrait close behind her, she glanced to George, who was standing close to the portrait hole, watching the scene with an amused grin on his face, but looking like he was ready to run at any moment if he had to.
"I'd thought it strange," he said to her, watching the screaming girls in the center of the room with an eyebrow raised, "when I'd heard someone say they saw me snogging Katie by the Astronomy tower. I didn't think much of it at first, figuring someone had an overactive imagination, since I've never kissed Katie, and don't think of her in that way. Plus, I know of a much better place to snog than the Astronomy tower of all places. Who snogs there, anyway? And then I realized that Fred there's been a rather naughty boy, pretending to be me."
Hermione glanced to him, and then to the scene, which looked like it could turn very ugly, very quickly. Angelina and Katie were now screaming at one another, while Alicia had jumped into the fray, trying to prevent the girls from fighting each other. It was only a matter of time before the girls would turn back on Fred, who was laughing.
"Aren't you going to break it up, Granger?" George asked.
She glanced to him. "What's this all about, anyway?"
He chuckled. "Apparently Fred's been two-timing Angelina with Katie by pretending to be me. Unfortunately, he failed to let me in on that little fact. He'd apparently set up a date to sneak off somewhere with Katie, but neglected to mention that to me. So imagine my confusion when we were all sitting there, and Katie suddenly starts asking me where we were sneaking off to, and what time we were leaving. I had no idea what she was talking about. And then she asked me what happened to the cut on my hand." He turned to Hermione. "Fred cut his hand in Herbology on Monday. Nothing major, but you can still see it as a nice red scratch going from his thumb to his index finger. I've got no such cut. That's when Fred's grand two-timing scheme fell apart, as the girls realized what was going on. I don't think either girl is very happy with him right now."
Hermione raised an eyebrow as Fred ducked a hex sent his way by Angelina, only to dodge another sent by Katie. "I can see that," she said sardonically.
George nodded solemnly. "I figure it's only a matter of time before they realize I'm here, and find some way to pin some of the blame on me. For 'letting it happen' or some rot like that. So as interesting as this is, I'm heading out now."
Hermione glanced at him. "It's almost ten o'clock. You're not supposed to leave the common room after nine," she pointed out.
George smirked. "You can report me for roaming the corridors after hours if you want, but I'd rather face a month's worth of detention than the wrath of Angelina and Katie. See you around, Granger." He said, waving once as he exited the common room through the portrait hole.
Hermione laughed, shaking her head. She knew she should report him, but honestly didn't feel like it. From the sounds of things, it probably would be safer for him to disappear for a short while. At least until Angelina and Katie could be calmed down. For a brief instant, she wondered where Ron was and why he wasn't doing anything to break up the argument, as he was a prefect as well, and should not have let things escalate to the point they had. She glared as she noticed him across the common room, ignoring the scene while trying to hold on a one-sided conversation with Harry, who was watching the fight with concern. Sighing, Hermione entered the fray to attempt to break things up.
It wasn't until later that she wondered why George had bothered explaining the situation to her. Was it just some sort of elaborate joke to play upon her pity so she wouldn't report him as he snuck off to Merlin knows where? Except the fight was just too real to be a hoax. No, she honestly believed that George had no part in perpetrating the events, except for as a not-so-innocent bystander that happened to look almost exactly like the perpetrator.
Hermione couldn't pinpoint when exactly it was that she discovered when she could tell the twins apart. She knew that George had a freckle on the tip of his nose that Fred did not, but that wouldn't be noticeable unless one was looking for it. Fred was about half an inch taller, and George had a slightly deeper voice. Their personalities were different, too. Fred was far more impulsive than George was, while George was a bit more sensitive than his twin. Of course, that wasn't saying much, but at least George wouldn't have done something as disrespectful as pretending to be his twin in order to two-time.
As the first match of the Quidditch rolled around, Hermione was amazed that the Gryffindor team was able to pull through. Angelina and Katie had managed to salvage their friendship, although it was a bit strained. Still, the two girls agreed on their mutual disgust at Fred, who nobody on the team was really speaking to on friendly terms. Well, Ron and Harry were, but Alicia firmly stood by her friends in their disgust. George seemed to be wavering between giving his twin the silent treatment over having his name dragged into such an endeavor, and joking around with him as if nothing ever happened.
Personal drama aside, the Gryffindor team did play rather well in their first match. Well, Ron's nerves started giving him fits, especially after the Slytherins began singing an abhorrent song about him. Still, the match wasn't all that bad. Hermione realized just how attractive a certain Beater was as he flew around the pitch, the wind whipped through his hair. George had to hit a bludger away from the Gryffindor stands at one point, and as he did so, Hermione could see from the way his robes clung to him that he had some nicely developed muscles. Nothing too big, but somewhere just about right. It was strange, though. Even though they were identical, Fred didn't strike her as being as attractive as his twin. She supposed that was just one more difference of theirs.
In the end, Gryffindor won the match, and Harry, George, and Fred got a really raw deal from Umbridge, who banned them from Quidditch for fighting with Malfoy after the match. True, they shouldn't have been fighting -- although technically Fred hadn't been fighting -- but a lifelong ban was going too far.
Their ban did seem to help out with the tension revolving around Fred, though. Hermione had noticed that George had seemed a little down after the fight between Fred, Katie, and Angelina. He didn't show it on the outside, but Hermione had noticed that George had been a bit off his game. His jokes weren't as funny, or as quick to come, but for all outward appearances he'd been the same. After the ban, there must have been some understanding struck, as Hermione noticed that the girls were hanging around with them in the common room again after that.
Towards the end of December, a few nights before term ended, Hermione could have sworn that she had seen Angelina and Fred holding hands. She just hoped that George wouldn't go back to feeling isolated. Katie had a boyfriend in Hufflepuff, some sixth year named Randal Stevens, and was meeting with him somewhere in the castle with greater frequency. Lee would often disappear with Alicia, and if Fred started disappearing with Angelina, then George was likely to disappear into his dorm room like he had last year. And then Hermione would be unable to study George, and just what it was that made him different than his twin.
She had decided that her fascination with George Weasley was like that a scientist would have with their chosen subject, because she certainly didn't fancy him or anything. So she started taking notes about what made George different than his twin, considering it a personal project of sorts. She already had about four sheets of parchment on the matter, and had only started the note taking earlier that month.
She had to stop her observations temporarily after overhearing Lavender and Parvati discuss the most recent issue of Playwitch magazine, which featured a pair of twins that worked in the magical construction business as that month's centerfold. She really could have done without hearing them talking animatedly about how one of them had a slightly larger package than the other, even though they were supposed to be identical twins, as that only made her wonder how big George might be, and that was a thought she could do without. She did not want to be mentally undressing him in the common room or anywhere else. Or worse, she did not want to be caught mentally undressing him.
Using her power as prefect, she confiscated the magazine in question from her roommates, stating that since neither of them were sixteen yet that they weren't supposed to have it and it would need to be turned in to Professor McGonagall. But after they had sullenly left the room in protest, she surreptitiously hid the magazine down in the bottom of her trunk. Turning in a magazine full of pictures of naked men would just be awkward, and just because neither of them were sixteen yet didn't mean that she wasn't.
Unfortunately, she had forgotten all about the magazine over the winter holidays, and when she was searching for something in her trunk that Ginny asked to borrow, she had pulled out the magazine inadvertently along with half the contents of her trunk.
"Whoa," Ginny said, picking up the magazine off the floor. "Hello, what's this?"
Hermione glanced over her shoulder, and then blushed furiously as she saw that Ginny held the most recent issue of Playwitch in her hands. "You're not supposed to have that," she said weakly as she crawled over to where Ginny was sitting, and held her hand out in an attempt to grab the magazine. "You're not sixteen yet."
Ginny held the magazine out of Hermione's reach. "I have six brothers. It's not like I've never seen a naked guy before."
Hermione lowered her arm. "Er, you haven't?"
Ginny shook her head. "Keep in mind they're my brothers, so don't count, but it's not like any of them could ever claim they'd never forgotten to bring a towel with them when taking a shower." She opened the magazine and flipped through the pages, not blushing in the slightest.
Hermione looked at Ginny curiously. "But I've stayed with you guys over the holidays. I've never…" She let her voice trail off.
Ginny chuckled, not looking away from the magazine. "Mum has made it clear that while she may be a little lax about it when nobody else is around, there is a house rule against strolling about naked, and she will have the hides of anyone who does so when you or Harry or anyone else is staying with us." She raised an eyebrow as she flipped to the centerfold. "Huh. Two for the price of one this month."
Hermione flushed, closing her eyes and thinking of another set of twins. Or rather, one of them. In her mind, she could envision George having just stepped out of the shower, water dripping down his nicely toned body, and realizing he forgot his towel. Her mind's eye slowly trailed down his body, picturing his solid pectorals, his washboard abdominals, and finally his rather large member, glistening with water droplets that slid down his length. She shook her head and opened her eyes, trying to clear away the mental image. She did not need to picture George Weasley as naked, especially when in the presence of his younger sister, who noticed things like that.
Ginny scoffed and closed the magazine. "I knew it. Nothing really interesting this month, either." She handed Hermione the magazine, and then smiled. "You're looking bright red, there. Thinking of anyone in particular?"
Hermione shook her head vehemently. "Of course not. Why would you think that?" She was lying, of course, and hoped that wasn't too apparent. She did not want Ginny wrangling it out of her that she had just envisioned the other girl's older brother naked.
Ginny didn't look like she believed her in the least, smirking playfully. "Anyone I know?"
Hermione just continued to shake her head, bright red. "It's nobody!" she denied.
Mercifully, Ginny let it go, changing the subject to one that was far more safe, although she continued to give Hermione knowing looks. Hermione tried to ignore the looks, figuring that Ginny did not know anything at all. The only reason at all that Hermione had envisioned George naked was because of the combination of their conversation, the copy of Playwitch magazine within arm's reach, and the fact that during her menstrual cycle, Hermione would often find herself a bit more hormonal that usual. The fact that it was George she envisioned meant absolutely nothing, as he was just the attractive older brother of one of her best friends, and she did not feel that way about him. He was the subject of a 'scientific' study of hers, which was probably why it was him who crossed her mind and not someone else.
Being secure in that knowledge made it a lot easier to face George during mealtimes at Grimmauld Place. The last thing she wanted was to act oddly around him, as someone would notice if she did. But she was able to act normally around him, if a bit distant. Then again, they'd never been close, so her aloofness wasn't too noticeable, she hoped. Well, Ginny did once give her a questioning look, but very little escaped the youngest Weasley's notice, and Ginny never did say anything.
Thankfully, once the new term began, she was able to throw herself back into her studies once more, forgetting all thoughts she might have had about naked redheads. The OWLs would be coming soon -- well, in June, which was still a few months away -- and Hermione wanted to make sure she did well on them. Plus, she still had her prefect duties, DA meetings, and hats to knit for the house elves, which all led to keeping her distracted. Eventually, she resumed her project on studying what set George apart from his twin, but only from a distance, and only when she knew she wouldn't be caught watching him. The last thing she wanted was for someone to think she fancied him, because she didn't. She was a prefect, and known as being prim and proper, and he was one of the biggest troublemakers in school.
The months passed along. As April rolled around, the DA meetings came to a screeching halt right before the Easter holidays after a meeting was raided by Umbridge, and Dumbledore left the school. The next day, Umbridge was appointed as Headmistress by the Ministry, and recruited students into her 'Inquisitorial Squad', who took pleasure in docking house points and generally making the lives of other students miserable, as Hermione discovered right before lunch when speaking with Ron, Harry, and Ernie MacMillan about their new Headmistress.
As they turned to the hour glasses that recoded the house points, they were approached by George and Fred, who warned them to go to the Great Hall for lunch so a professor would see them. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what they had planned, and had half a mind to follow them as they went off to execute their plan. However, she reasoned, as curious as she might be, it wasn't worth the risk of expulsion if they got caught. George and Fred might not care about such things, but she did. So she went to lunch.
She did have to admit, the fireworks the twins set off were wonderful. In the common room after dinner, she had gone up to them to tell them as such. She was in such a good mood that she was willing to skive off on her homework for that evening, something that undoubtedly shocked her friends Ron and Harry. As the crowd around George and Fred began to clear, and a dragon made of green and gold sparks soared past the window of the common room, she decided that maybe she should put her name down on the waiting list for Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs after all.
There were only a few students around them now, although the excited sound of laughter and cheers persisted in the common room. Hermione approached the twins just as the students around them turned to leave, having their names placed on the waiting list.
Fred raised an eyebrow as she approached them. "Change your mind about the waiting list, Hermione?" he asked, quill at the ready to take down her name on the clipboard he held.
She nodded and smiled. "I'm feeling a bit rebellious. Sign me up."
Fred chuckled, writing down her name. He then turned to a trio of second years who approached him about taking their names down as well.
George smiled. "I knew you'd crack someday, Granger," he teased. "Our bad influence was bound to rub off on you eventually."
Hermione shook her head in mock pity, still smiling. "You flatter yourself too much."
George made a sound of mock disappointment. "And here we'd been hoping that someone would carry on our legacy of rule-breaking and mischief making."
Hermione snorted. "Do you honestly think I'd do something like that?"
He shrugged, smirking. "Not really, no."
Hermione paused. She wasn't sure what compelled her to ask what she did next. Perhaps it was just because she was in a good and rebellious mood, but for whatever reason, she boldly asked him, "So where is this place you know of that's better for snogging than the Astronomy tower?"
George looked taken aback for a moment. But only for a moment. He folded his arms across his chest, looking at her shrewdly. "And why would you want to know something like that, Granger?"
Hermione looked away from him. It was bad enough she'd asked him that to begin with, but to have to explain why she asked him that… She didn't even know herself.
George chuckled. "Do you want me to show you where it is?"
Hermione glanced back up at him, mimicking his stance by folding her arms across her chest. "Sure, why not?"
George gave her a contemplative look briefly, before lowering his arms and poking Fred in the shoulder to get his attention. "We're gonna take off for a bit. You got a handle on things?"
Fred waved them off, smirking. "Don't do anything I wouldn't."
George scoffed and shook his head, turning back to Hermione. "Let's go, then."
Hermione found her heart racing as she followed George out of the common room. What had she been thinking when she asked him where the place was? What must he be thinking about her and her intentions? Did he think she had just asked him out somewhere to snog? What if he expected her to? Did she want to?
She had to admit that there was a small part of her that wanted to. Even though she tried to put it out of her mind, she still remembered kissing him over the summer holidays, and how his lips were surprisingly soft and gentle. If she were to be completely honest with herself, there was the slight chance that maybe she fancied him after all. Maybe. Except that he was the older brother of one of her best friends, and there was no possible way that he could ever see her as anything beyond that. She was the prim and proper bookworm prefect, and he was just so unlike her.
They made their way down to the fourth floor corridor, dodging a few escaped fireworks along the way. George stopped in front of a tapestry of Marline the Mental. He placed his hand in the center of the tapestry, demonstrating that there was a solid wall behind it. "Through here," he said, pushing aside the tapestry and walking through the wall.
Hermione blinked. Had he just walked through a solid wall? Curiously, she raised a hand to the wall. Instead of coming into contact with solid brick, her hand went through the wall. It must be like the barrier at King's Cross, she figured, walking through the wall and letting the tapestry flutter back into place behind her.
Beyond the tapestry and wall-that-wasn't was a room about the size of the sitting room at Grimmauld Place, and lit by torches on the walls. There were a few comfortable looking chairs and a couch spread out in the room, as well as a couple of small tables. Against one wall was a shelf stacked with bottles of Butterbeer. George stood in the center of the room, smirking.
"If you're thinking that you'll be able to bust couples here, don't bother," he said, walking over to the shelf of Butterbeer. "I don't think many people know of this room. Fred and I discovered it second year. It's not on any maps of the school or anything." He smiled, and Hermione got the reference at once. This room wasn't on the Marauder's Map.
George grabbed a couple of bottles and walked over to one of the chairs, sitting down and placing one of the bottles on a nearby table. He opened his bottle of Butterbeer and took a drink before gesturing her to do the same. "Sit down, relax, have a drink."
Hermione shook her head. "That's not why I wanted you to show me this place," she said, crossing the room tentatively. She grabbed the bottle of Butterbeer off the table, and sat down. "The bottle's cold," she said, glancing down at it. "Shouldn't it be at room temperature?"
George chuckled. "There's a chilling charm on the shelf. Why is it that you wanted me to show you this place, then? You don't plan on using it, do you?"
She didn't answer him at first, instead focusing on the bottle she held in her hands. Slowly, she removed the cap, and took a sip. "I don't know why I asked," she admitted after a long pause. She chuckled self-depreciatively, shaking her head. "Whim, I guess."
"See, I knew I was a bad influence on you." She looked over to George, who smiled. With an expression of mock disapproval, he continued, "It's only a matter of time before you start sneaking out of bounds for a number of illicit activities. Like starting illegal Defense Against the Dark Arts groups, or turning back time to save the lives of alleged mass murderers that happen to be innocent, or smuggling dragons illegally, or--" He stopped, grinning. "Oh, wait. You've already done those things."
Hermione laughed. "You give yourself far too much credit." She paused. "You never did explain how you can get into the girls' dormitories."
George smiled broadly, his warm brown eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ah, that. An ingenious method I came up with that involves a combination of a Sticking Charm, a trick wand, and a transfigured rubber chicken wearing a bra stuffed with potatoes." He paused, and then added, "It's best not to ask for details on that."
Hermione laughed. "When you put it that way, I really don't think I want to know. But why didn't you sign your name on the card you left when you gave me the Canary Creams for my birthday?"
He took a drink of his Butterbeer. "Because I knew you'd figure they were from me." He raised an eyebrow. "Ron must have been on good behavior this year, or else learned not to trust anything you give him."
Hermione shrugged, taking a sip of her own drink. "He'll slip up." She turned to him suddenly. "Why did you give me the Canary Creams for my birthday? How did you even know when it was?"
"The simple answer to both of your questions is Ron," he replied. "He can be a bit of a prat, and I overheard him telling Harry over the summer not to let him forget when your birthday was again this year."
"Why would you do something like that for me?" she asked.
He shrugged, and set his bottle of Butterbeer back on the table. "I told you before. You deserve someone who won't make you cry."
Hermione sighed. Why did everyone assume she liked Ron as anything more than a friend? "You do realize that I don't think of Ron that way, don't you?"
A look of surprise combined with something else she couldn't quite pinpoint crossed his face for a brief instant. He gave her a sidelong glance. "I suppose I know now. I mean, I had my suspicions, but now I know." He smirked. "And as Lee would say, 'knowing is half the battle'."
Hermione chuckled, getting the reference to the American cartoon from the 80's even if George didn't. "So who do you think I deserve, then?" she asked, taking a sip of her drink.
He shrugged. "Someone who'll make you smile," he said simply.
She wasn't sure why she asked her next question. Maybe she wanted to find out if there was even the slightest chance that he thought of her as anything more than his younger brother's best friend without admitting anything herself. Whatever the reason behind the question was, as George reached down for his bottle of Butterbeer, she asked, "Like who?"
George's hand froze in midair for a brief moment before he drew it back and turned to her and smiled. "You're smart, Granger. I'm sure you can figure that out."
Hermione studied his face for a few moments. She could tell that his smile was forced, as when he normally smiled, his cheeks would dimple slightly. But no dimples were present, indicating that he was faking a smile. But what reason would he have to do that?
George reached for his bottle of Butterbeer again, and took a drink. "Make sure to visit us sometime," he said. "We're probably going to be leaving within the next couple of weeks or so. Depends on how things go."
Hermione's insides froze. He was leaving so soon? She had a feeling he might, but hearing him actually say it made it seem more real somehow. "Why do you have to leave so soon?" she asked.
He shrugged. "We've got our shop location all ready for us to move in. We would leave now, but we want to try to stick it to Umbridge as much as we can. Leave with a bang." He paused. "Besides, what's the difference between us leaving now, or us leaving in a couple of months?"
Hermione looked at the bottle of Butterbeer in her hands. Any way she looked at it, this was his last year of school. She knew that, but had always thought she had a little more time before he left. Once he was gone, she'd have no reason to seek him out, and would likely only see him when staying over at the Burrow. There'd be no reason for them to maintain correspondence with one another, as they weren't close enough to be considered friends. "I don't want you to go so soon," she admitted, not looking at him.
His eyes were on her, watching her. "Why?" he asked.
Hermione felt her cheeks flush. It was bad enough, her confessing that she wanted him to stay. Did she really want to admit to him that she liked him? Would it make any difference if she did? "I just don't want you to, that's all," she said lamely, since it seemed like he was expecting an answer.
George scoffed and rolled his eyes. "That's compelling," he said.
She turned to him. "Well, what do you want me to say?"
George gave her a scrutinizing look, and then set his bottle of Butterbeer back onto the table. "Nothing, I suppose," he said after a long pause. He stood up, and walked across the room. He turned around and leaned against the wall. "A hag, a troll, and two leprechauns walk into a bar--"
"George," Hermione interrupted, setting her bottle down and standing up. She took in a deep breath. "Why did you bring me here?" She slowly began walking over to him.
He raised an eyebrow. "You mean you haven't figured it out yet, Granger? I thought you were smart."
She froze in her tracks, her heart beating wildly. The way he phrased it sounded just like his response to her when she asked him who he thought she deserved. Was he trying to imply that he liked her?
She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She had to make sure. "When you said I deserve someone who'll make me smile…" She opened her eyes, to meet his devilishly sparkling eyes. It was now or never. "Were you referring to yourself?"
George smiled, and peeled himself off the wall. "Figured it out at last, I see."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat, and she took a few tentative steps closer to him. He liked her. Her, of all people. "And you still plan on leaving?" she asked.
He nodded. "Our minds were made up a long time ago. And does it really make that much of a difference when we leave?"
She took a few steps closer to him. "It might," she said.
"And why's that?" he asked, tilting his head to one side as he watched her.
She stopped in front of him. "Because that really doesn't give us a lot of time."
George smiled. "The greatest thing about being your own boss is you can set your own hours. If you want to leave early, you can. And if you happen to be one such as myself, who knows all the secret passageways in and out of the castle…"
Hermione gave him a searching look. "Why me?"
"Why not?" he replied. "I can't explain the 'why' about it, and I'm not going to try. For whatever reason, I find myself captivated by you."
"But we're so different," she said.
"So?" he said, smiling slightly. "Maybe that's why. Opposites attract and all."
"Maybe they do…" Hermione said, taking a step closer to him and clearing the distance between them. She placed her hands on his shoulders, pulling him down to her as she leaned up to him. His strong arms wrapped around her, and she placed her lips on his, kissing him softly. She brought her arms down along his back, pulling him closer to her as he kissed her back.
His kiss was still as gentle as she remembered, but his shyness had been replaced with a sort of tender wanting. As they kissed, she could hear the distant sounds of escaped fireworks still whizzing by in the hallways. Fireworks indeed, she thought as she felt his tongue flick against hers. She moved her tongue against his in response. He still tasted of cinnamon and something sweet.
After they eventually broke the kiss, Hermione placed her head against George's chest. She didn't know how things would work out from there, but figured that the details didn't really matter.
"You make me want to stay," he said, moving a hand along her back. "But I can't. I will come back, though."
Hermione smiled slightly, trailing a finger in circles along the back of his neck. "I wish you didn't have to go at all." She looked up at him. "Is there anything I can do to convince you to stay?"
George shook his head. "No," he said honestly. "But I'll come back, so long as you want me to." He smirked. "The coins for the DA… Maybe you could make another couple of coins like them for us. We would meet here, and you could let me know when you want to meet up or something."
She chuckled. "Pre-arranged snogging sessions. How very like you, George."
He smirked. "Well, I have been told that I have an irresistible body," he said cheekily. He paused for a moment. "Well, it might have been Fred who was actually told that by Angelina at one point of time last year, but we're identical, so the same should hold true for me, right?"
Hermione laughed. "There are differences between you two." At George's raised eyebrow, she continued. "You have a freckle at the end of your nose that he doesn't. You're also about half an inch shorter than he is, and have a slightly deeper voice--"
"I'm not shorter than he is," George protested.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine, then. You slouch slightly in your stance, making it appear as though you're a bit shorter than him," she said that in a tone where it was obvious she was only humoring him. "Also, when you smile, your cheeks dimple slightly."
"I don't have dimples," George said matter-of-factly. "Dimples aren't manly."
Hermione scoffed playfully, smiling. "Really. Then what would you call them?"
George made an exaggeratedly thoughtful face, complete with a 'hmm'-ing sound. Hermione chuckled at his expression, and he grinned. "Would 'manholes' work?"
Hermione shook her head, laughing. "You do realize that manholes are the coverings over sewers, don't you?"
He shrugged, smirking. "Well, I have been told that I can have quite the potty mouth at times." He paused. "Never in front of a lady, though."
Hermione laughed. "And what if I want you to talk dirty in front of me?" she teased.
George pulled back from her slightly, looking at her with an expression of shock and amusement. "I'd wonder who you were, and what you've done with Hermione Granger."
She smiled. "And how do you know I don't have an inner bad girl or something?" she continued to tease.
He looked down at her, smirking. "Well, it always is the ones you'd least suspect. Which, I suppose, would make them the most likely suspects, who are usually innocent of whatever they're suspected of." He paused, looking confused. "But then how would that work? If someone was the last person you'd suspect of something, then that would mean they're usually guilty of what they're suspected of, so should be the most likely suspect, who's usually innocent--"
Hermione laughed as George confused himself, and pulled him down into another kiss. She could quickly become addicted to kissing him, she thought as he kissed her back.
For the next hour, they stayed there in the hidden room, eventually moving onto the couch. Hermione found that it was remarkably easy to talk to George. They talked, laughed, joked around, and teased one another, with the occasional kiss thrown in for good measure. Kissing him was quickly becoming a new favorite pastime of hers.