This was written for the 'Quotable Questions Challenge'. My Question was 'Aren't you a bit short to be a storm trooper? ~ Star Wars'. Hope you enjoy!

"Hey George, don't you think we should probably go to the common room eventually?" It was ten(ish) when Fred realized the only person he had talked to all day was George. It was a Saturday, of course. Hermione would kill him if it wasn't. But he was kind of tired of George's voice.

"Well, I guess, technically, we should. Why? Are you sick of me already?" George said, teasing. Fred nodded.

"I haven't been more sick of someone before in my whole life. And that includes that time we had to babysit Ron for two days," Fred said. George gasped, pretending to be offended.

"How dare you! I thought we were twins!" George said, probably pretty loudly since they were out of the common room way after curfew.

"Yeah, we are. That doesn't mean I have to like it," Fred said. George gasped again. Fred rolled his eyes and began walking back to the common room. George ran after him a couple seconds later, almost out of breath by the time he caught up.

"How lazy are you? I wasn't even walking that fast," Fred said.

"Just because I play Quidditch doesn't mean I can run," George said.

"That really isn't a good sign, George," Fred said. George glared at him.

"Shut up, I know that. Do you think anyone's still up? I heard most of the classes had to start essays for McGonagall today," George said, dipping himself under and behind a tapestry on the wall. Fred followed, then shrugged.

"Who knows. I bet Hermione's done or pretty close to being done already, though," Fred said. George looked at him through the corner of his eye.

"Well, duh. It is Granger you're talking about here," George said.

"I do wish she wouldn't push herself so hard," Fred said. George shrugged.

"Who cares. It isn't my problem," George said. It was Fred's turn to glare at George.

"It may not be your problem, but it's someone's, so be nice."

"Well, sorry. Didn't know you had such an attachment to her," George said.

"I'm not attached to her. Just, be nice," Fred said. They walked the rest of the way with small chatter, but by that point Fred was only paying attention to one thing. Was he lying when he said he wasn't attached to her.

Once they had walked into the common room, Fred noticed Hermione in the corner, presumably asleep, the essay they had been talking about on her lap. George grinned once he noticed her, probably thinking about what he could draw on her face.

"Poor lion," Fred said. George's grin turned to Fred.

"You call Granger lion?" George asked. Fred shrugged.

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I? She basically is a lion," Fred said, taking the book from her lap and putting it beside her with the essay and the quill she loosely clutched, adding a bookmark to the textbook which consisted of a ripped out piece of notebook paper. He then outstretched an arm towards George. George rolled his eyes, but gave him a blanket that had been draped over the couch closer to the fire. Fred put it over the sleeping form of Hermione.

"Anyway, why do you feel bad for her? You don't even care about her," George said. Fred shrugged.

"Because she needs to chill, you know? Like, me and you, we know how to get stuff done but then also not be super uptight all the time. I mean, I know I could never get stuff done like she does," Fred said. George shrugged.

"I guess. But, like, she doesn't have to do all that stuff. She's already a genius. She doesn't need it, so it's entirely her fault if she's overworked," George said.

"To each their own, I guess. I can't change your mind or whatever. But I say you're being unfair," Fred said. George sat down on the couch he had just taken the blanket away from. He took up most of it, his legs spread across the whole thing, but Fred found a spot on George's feet.

"Lion, though?" George said, after a moment.

"Well, yeah. She's a Gryffindor, first of all. Second of all, that hair. Third of all, she's braver than all of us. Fourth of all, I like giving people nicknames," Fred said. George shrugged.

"Fair enough. But isn't it still a bit… cliché? Like, couldn't you have called her something else, like, I dunno, tiger or bear. Or dragon. You should call her dragon," George said. The fire illuminated his face, the shadows making him look evil.

"Why would I want to call anyone 'dragon'? That's ridiculous," Fred said. George looked away again, using large gestures as he explained.

"Well, she's feisty, right? Like a dragon! And they breath fire and so does she when she's angry. And some dragons are known for being super smart and all that. And they're really protective of her books, like she is. And they both look ridiculous-"

"Hermione doesn't look ridiculous, George," Fred interrupted.

"Sure she does. Just look at her. Bushy hair, buck teeth, the works," George said, then continued his rant on why Fred should call her 'dragon'. But Fred was no longer listening to his brother, instead opting to study the girl in front of him. She was positively beautiful, he decided. Not in the conventional way, like some others, but in her more bookish way. Her bushy hair framed her face, and it shown in the light of the fire. Her features were calm, still there, but dulled — a break from the harshness some others tried to achieve. She wasn't the prettiest of the girls in Hogwarts, but Fred knew she was definitely the most beautiful. Of course, in his thoughts, he failed to notice that she was now awake, and grinning mercilessly at him. When he noticed however, she was already talking to George.

"Of course I think that's a good idea. How about you, Fred? Do you think it's a good idea to call me dragon?" She asked him. She obviously was making fun of him, in her weird way. He rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you a bit short to be a dragon?" He said, semi quoting a movie she had shown him once. Her face lit up.

"Did you just make a Star Wars reference?" She asked. His nod made her smile grow.

"I think I might be in love with you," she said, jokingly. Fred may have blushed a tiny bit. George crossed his armed, probably realizing the lie in his earlier statement of not being attached to her. Fred shook it off and grinned at her.

"I know."