Just a Little Bet
By: BookyJuliet
Disclaimer: Though I'm not really positive as to why I still have to do one of these, I think it is quite clear that if I was JK Rowling I would be caving to social pressures to write another book for the series, and not here writing fanfiction – I do not own anything Harry Potter or Harry Potter related except for the plot of this story, and even that I don't fully own since it is inspired by both of the films: He's Just Not that Into You and The Ugly Truth. I am a fan, doing a fans work for something I love. Happy Reading!
Hermione leaned back in her chair tiredly; the post-it notes flying over head caused a soft fluttering noise and all around was the quite murmur of voices. None, however were as clear as that of Lavender Brown, an ex Gryffindor like herself, Ginny Weasley-Potter, Gryffindor also, and Pansy Parkinson, Slytherin.
The brunette lawyer had once been hesitant about working with the pure-blood but she'd proved herself a smart and useful, invaluable assets and she'd never doubted the girl since. They were a team of sorts, the fab-four of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Not just anyone could work on the cases they had – and finish them with the finesse the girls were now known for.
Amongst her list of accomplishments, Bellatrix Lestarange, Antonin Dolhov and countless other nameless Death Eaters that had gone down in the war. But she was most famous, for being the witch that cleared the name of one; Severus Tobias Snape the last male heir to the name of Prince, and Hogwarts Potions Master.
With two Merlin First Class' special titles, a war hero, Harry Potter's best friend and ex girlfriend to Lavender Brown's current boyfriend Ron Weasley; Hermione had spent more of her life in the Daily Prophet than out of it. She was the only female in the Golden Trio and destroyed a part of Voldemort's soul.
All of that was fine and dandy, brilliant really – but she was also twenty-four, single, had no family and for all her accomplishments she couldn't seem to find a decent guy anywhere that wasn't dumber then a sack of broken bricks in a soggy paper bag or too scared of her finical and universal success. She was starting to think there was something wrong with her, maybe she was defective? Maybe she just wasn't meant to be happy. Who knows, she sure didn't.
"Hermione, you've got that look again that says 'I'm going to die cold, fat and alone'" Pansy said not missing a beat as she marked something off on her paperwork.
"Yeah, with a million cats and a vibrator" Ginny finished for the Slytherin, shooting the older woman a saucy wink as she pushed away from her desk to retrieve a very insistent memo before she slipped back into her heels and hurried off down the aisles to the elevator.
The blush Hermione now sported was spreading down her neck as her head dropped lower, making a dull thud as it made contact with the hard wood. "I won't be forever alone with a million cats and a vibrator. I'm allergic to all non-magical types of cats and I've never really been able to get off with a vibrator, dogs and male prostitutes are far more likely."
Pansy and Lavender both had to suppress giggles at this as their head of department pulled herself back up, grabbed her purse and cast them both weary glances. "I'm taking a personal day, I'm sure no one will believe I'm sick so tell them I had an urgent appointment at the Library, that sounds legitimate enough."
"Sure thing boss," Lavender saluted as she also scurried off to finish some important business or another.
"Should I tell Ginny the bit about dogs and male prostitutes or is that one just for us?" Pansy gave a teasing though not unkind smile and Hermione smiling rolled her eyes. "How about we keep that one to ourselves yeah?"
"Keep what to ourselves?"
"Nothing Gin." She pressed a kiss the cheek of her school days best friend. "Tell Harry and Albus I love them. I think I'll be skipping out on 'let's feel bad for Mione' dinner tonight. I promised Charlie I'd meet him for drinks tonight to go over the legalities of him actually owning a dragon in Brittan."
GWgwGWgwGW
The last sale of the day was a Pigmey Puff, how exciting. Even as he scribbled the name, marked the quantity and the price George's sarcasam seemed to seep through the quill.
"All I'm saying Freddy, is that you really should at least try and find a girl, I did! See how happy I am?" George looked up finally finished with the nights paper work, running a business wasn't exactly what he'd expected it to be. It was all work, no fun – lucky for the younger of the Weasley twins, he had a wife at home. As a newly married couple, they still had plenty of fun.
"Why would I settle for just one witch, George?" his twin replied indignantly slipping his arms out of the maroon robe, hanging it on the brass hooks that lined the back wall of the staff room. "I've got a harem! I never have to see the same one twice, and if the sex is good I can always invite her back until she starts talking about her aspirations before I move onto the next! Its bloody perfect as it is!"
Try as he might, George had a hard time finding an argument for that one.
"Look, Fred; ever since I got married and moved out you've lived above the shop, alone doing Merlin doesn't even want to know what with Merlin only knows who. I worry about you and your happiness. That's all."
"Well don't" Fred answered in a flippant tone as he un-tied the bowtie around his neck letting it rest loosely around his shoulders. "I am happy George!" And the honesty in his tone couldn't be mistaken. He was happy, for now anyway.
"Alright, alright, fine. I've got to get home, Angie is waiting and you know how she can be when I'm late. Don't forget to meet up with Mione later, Charlie forgot to tell her he was leaving, and swing bye sometime this week after work alright? We'll have dinner and go over product plans or something."
Fred nodded his head with a chuckle before he pulled the door open revealing the stairs that went up to his flat.
Fred Weasley sighed as he ascended the stairs, raking his fingers through ginger hair as the floor plan slowly revealed itself over the top step. Twenty-six, most eligible bachelor in Wizard London, co-owner of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, war hero, though nowhere near as famous as his little brother and his group of friends.
But George was wrong. He was happy, really. The girl he loved left him to go to France for a nine-year training program at the Salem Witches Institute to become a medi-witch without so much as an "I love you" or "Good-bye" or even a "Have a nice life!" Sure. He was just fine. He had more dates now than he knew what to do with, women were a science, and he'd just gotten his masters degree.
But he couldn't get serious with any of them. It was weird; she obviously didn't care about him or his feelings, but every time he looked at a Witch and tried to feel anything for her his heart would ache and he'd think about soft blonde hair sliding across his skin like silk, beautiful rose pink lips and warm baby blue eyes and he'd feel disgusted with himself.
He figured out a long time ago that no girl would ever take Katie Bell's place, so Fred gave up on love, threw himself into work and went on dates when he needed a little stress relief. It'd worked so far, and it wasn't until he sat down on nights like these after his brother had gone home to his wife that he even noticed how lonely his life was actually becoming.
With a sigh he sat on the sofa, his head falling to rest on the back, hazel eyes sliding closed.
He would have to get back up soon, go get dressed in a more casual attire before meeting his little brothers ex-fiance. Everyone had been shocked when Ron called off the engagement. They all thought that Ron and Hermione would get married, and that was the problem. Ron had confessed to him later that he felt the only reason he was ever even going to marry her was because it was what everyone expected.
Secretly, Fred thought it was better this way, Hermione had always been too smart for his brother. A woman like her would need more in a husband, inelegance and understanding being the most important. Things Ron didn't posses.
She still happily showed up for holiday's and family dinners, his mother said that even though she'd never be her daughter-in-law, she'd always be family. Fred agreed, she'd been at ever dinner and holiday since he was fourteen. It'd be weird not to see the curly haired woman with warm chocolate eyes and a book in hand on Christmas morning or at Easter dinner.
She was a Weasley, if only honorary. He liked his family that way.
Getting up to go shower, a renewed bounce in his step he decided that this was a blessing in disguise. It was a long time between Easter and Halloween dinner, it'd be good to see how Hermione was doing.
HGhgHGhgHG
Hermione sat in the bar, a glass of red wine on the table in front of her, Othello in her hand as she twirled a lone curl around her finger mindlessly. From time to time, her lips would move alone with the words, on occasion, her brow would crease with worry or her lips would twitch into a soft fleeting smile. Reading was her escape.
Something's, would never change.
She was so caught up in her book that she didn't notice when a red-headed male, though not the one she'd been expecting slid into the both across from her, a grin on his face as he relaxed into place. He watched her for a moment before he cleared his throat lightly, relishing the look of shock on her face when she looked up.
"Fred!" A grin overtook her features and she had to fight not to get up and hug the male. "I haven't seen you since Easter! How have you been? Ginny tells me George moved out, guess Angie didn't cave then did she?"
Fred couldn't suppress the chuckle that fell from his lips as he relaxed into the seat. It was weird he decided, to be at dinner with someone who actually knew him and his family and what was going on. Weird, but he liked it.
"Yeah, Angie won, but I really didn't think she'd move in with us. I mean, who wants to get married and live with their husband and his twin brother?" His shoulders shrugged as he ordered a fire whiskey and looked back to her.
"Charlie says sorry by the way. Seems he forgot to tell you he was going back to Romania yesterday one of the dragons has the flu. I think it's pretty funny but apparently the flu is serious business for Dragons, but he sends his apologies."
Hermione's face fell a little and she sighed. "Go figure my social event of the year is ruined by the dragon flu."
"What do you mean Princess? Things on the dating front haven't been working out too well or something?" He chuckled good naturedly. He got all of his play because he was at Hogwarts during the final battle; surely she was swimming in suitors of her own.
She looked at him blankly for a moment before the sting of embarrassment colored her cheeks. "The last guy that took me out wanted me to quit my job, sign over my vault and have his children. That was right before Christmas."
Fred felt like he'd been slapped. Surely it hadn't been that long.
"You mean to tell me that it's been," his mouth mouthed the words as he counted the months off on his fingers. "Eight, eight months since you last had a good romp?"
The look on her fast almost made the situation laughable as Hermione dipped her head, curls falling around her face, shielding the look of embarrassment on her face and the loneliness in her eyes. "I can't help it!" She exclaimed finally peaking up at him.
"When's the last time you dated a girl who actually reads or cares about anything other than her weight, hair, money or the size of her pores?"
Fred looked taken aback for a moment as his mind scrambled before he decided she was right. Every girl he'd taken out for a drink, dinner and a good lay before he sent her on her way with a grin and promise to call had been just what she described. Shallow, unintelligent and money hungry; still he couldn't find it in himself to be ashamed. It wasn't like he was really looking to get married or anything. He was a free bloke, enjoying a good time. But he could see why Hermione would be having trouble.
All men, all of them complained that their women weren't smart enough, or cared too much about how they looked. Complained about the amount of time they spent getting ready or how much money they spent on things like clothes, perfume, hair products, makeup or getting their nails done. Wizarding men were not exempt from this. However, they also didn't want to roll over every morning to see a woman whose hair is an untamed mess who has morning breath, a red wine hangover and the imprint of last night's book on her cheek.
Glancing over Hermione's appearance he couldn't help but to cringe. Her hair, though it'd smoothed out a lot of the years was still an untamed mass of curls, and while the color was beautiful it was hard to appreciate through the mess. She wore no makeup, had a small split where you could tell she'd been worrying her lip; probably at work. Her clothes where professional, but did nothing to catch his attention.
Hermione Granger was a woman with all of the assets needed to attract a guy; and she covered them all in last year's business fashion of a grey wool skirt that fell to her knees, clunky looking loafers, black tights and a blouse in some putrid shade of mint green that reminded him of some of Ron's potions assignments gone wrong. It was no wonder she couldn't get a date! He wouldn't ask her out or be caught dead with her if she wasn't such a close family friend.
He shrugged his shoulders and offered her a smile. "Sorry, Mione. I know you want to believe that there is a guy in this world who doesn't care about your looks or habits and that appreciates your mind who isn't a relative, Harry, Ron or us. But the truth of the matter is, you'll never attract a guy if you keep going the way you are!" He shook his head taking a sip off the Fire Whiskey that up to this point had been forgotten.
With a look that promised death if he didn't answer, and that assured death if she didn't like what she heard Hermione pursed her lips setting her wine aside, staring at him with critical eyes. "And what exactly is it that I'm doing that is supposedly so wrong?"
Fred smirked, long fingers raking through ginger hair as his eyes danced with amusement.
"Hermione, you are a strong, able, independent woman with the reputation that rivals Merlin. You are the brightest witch of our age, a muggle born, best friend to Harry Potter. Before you're seventh year you'd defeated enchantments put in place by our professors, been petrified after being the only one who knew there was a basilisk set loose by Tom Riddle. Identified Remus as a Werewolf, helped finger Peter Petegrew, saved two innocent lives in Buckbeak and Sirius Black and helped Harry Potter prepare for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. You've mastered numerous spells, including the patronus charm, kept both Harry and Ron alive for a year out in the wilderness without any of us being able to find you. You helped defeat Voldemort, cleared the name of Severus Snape, put Bellatrix Lestarange in Azkaban."
He sighed taking a deep breath as he stared her down.
"Hermione, you are one of the single most accomplished, talented, strong and clever witches ever to live. And on top of that you're practically a billionaire!" His eyes locked on to her like his point ought to be obvious by this point, and still she stared at him confused.
"So…you're point?" Hermione chewed her lip nervously like she knew the answer all ready and just really didn't want to hear it as he rocked back into his seat, sighing heavily.
"My point is, Granger. Its intimidating to be around you, let alone date you. And, to make matters worse, you walk around like you're still in Hogwarts! You're a grown woman, Mione. Invest in a pair of heels, some pantyhose, a pencil skirt that hugs those great hips your hiding under that monstrosity. Put on a push-up bra, and a button up blouse, preferably something sheer with short sleeves and for Merlin's sake do something with that hair and maybe, just maybe you'll get somewhere!"
They sat in silence for a long while as Hermione contemplated this, her brow creased as her mind tried to really grasp what he was saying, sipping her wine slowly, her eyes never leaving the table as he waited for her response, fingers drumming against the side of his glass as he waited for her to rip into him with some sort of snarky reply about how he's being misogynistic and needs to keep up with the times.
"Thank you, Fred…you've given me a lot to think about…"
He balk at her reply, wondering if maybe he'd finally managed to break Hermione Granger, a feat that even Voldemort and torture at the hands of Bellatrix hadn't managed. "You're welcome, I think."
"No really, thank you." Her chocolate eyes bored into his hazel as she smiled bravely. "You make a lot of really valid points, I suppose. It's obvious that I've never cared about my looks. If I don't care, why should anyone else?"
Nodding his approval Fred held up his glass. "Exactly my point, really Hermione; you're a great catch. You just a little rough around the edges nothing a little make up and a new wardrobe won't hurt. And maybe a new act, I'll never forget some of Ron's stories about dates with you. Really, Mione you've got to calm down. There is nothing a guy hates more than being rendered useless in bed."
He smirked and yelped as she kicked him under the table a smirk on her face.
"Oh and I suppose you think you can help me with that as well don't you?" She rolled her eyes, confident that he was wrong in most of his assessment.
"Oh yeah, you roll your eyes if you'd like. But I bet you my room during the Holiday's for the next five years that my method works way better than anything you've tried so far."
With a smirk Hermione perked up. "Throw in the bathroom across the hall and it's a deal."
Being a Weasley, and not one to pass up on an easily won deal, Fred smirked offering her his hand. "Deal, and if I win, you admit I was right to everyone about my misogamist ideas, and you help me out at the joke shop. I've got a few ideas that your brilliance would be perfect for."
Hesitant to get involved with anything at the shop, but confident that his method of dating, or rather, shagging – wouldn't work; she extended her hand across the table and smirked.
"You've got yourself a deal, Fred Weasley."
His response was a grin and a firm shake as he enveloped her hand in his own. Hermione didn't know it yet, but Fred was positive he'd already won their little bet.