Author's Note: Hello everyone! It's been ages since I've published anything, but I'm going to give this fun little story a go. I wrote this first chapter early this year, maybe in March or April, and now that I have had some time to rewrite it, I figured I'd publish it.
Enjoy!
-Harkinian
Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership over any of the characters in the Harry Potter verse. They belong to the brilliant J.K. Rowling. I am merely playing in her sandbox.
Hermione Granger was frustrated; a sort of I could kill somebody right now frustrated. Her brown hair tied in a knot at the nape of her neck, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, she wore a fierce expression of annoyance, seemingly directed at a pink potion bubbling happily, almost mockingly, at its creator.
Why is she so annoyed, an ignorant bystander would ask. The love potion, a Weasley Twins creation tentatively titled "Copa del Amor," which Hermione had been working on for the past three hours, looked exactly how she had wanted it to look, with its lovely pink color, smooth texture, and gleaming, pearl-like sheen. But these properties of the potion, brewed to perfection, were not what bothered her.
No, what aggravated Hermione Granger so very much were the alluring smells emanating from the Drink of Love. With each breath she took, she could identify the smell of new parchment and freshly mowed grass, but the third smell to which she supposedly was attracted was one Hermione could not identify. It had a hint of maple syrup and caramel and was positively mouthwatering, but she couldn't tell precisely to what or to whom it belonged. Definitely not Ron, she thought, since they were broken up for over a year now. Yet the smell was so familiar...
Hermione sighed in frustration. She was certain that after existing for twenty years on this planet, she knew herself well enough to know to whom she was attracted. Apparently not. And the fact that a love potion knew her better than herself irritated Hermione to the extreme.
While she tapped her wand on the black cauldron and pondered what the mysterious smell might be, George Weasley, his red hair sticking up in all directions, strolled into the back room and to the counter she was standing at.
"Mademoiselle Granger! How dost thou fare on this fine spring evening?" George asked. He snickered at her hair, fluffed up by the potion's fumes, and the frazzled expression upon her face.
"Just lovely, Sir George. Thanks for asking," Hermione replied, annoyed at his amusement.
"And how's the sweet drink of love coming along?"
"Well, I think."
"Brilliant. When do you suspect it'll be ready for action?"
"It's done now."
"Most excellent! We must put this new batch out as soon as possible!"
Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, the damned mystery scent making her light-headed. Suddenly, inspiration hit her. Could it be George? It was possible, but she would need to be a bit closer...
"Fair lady, what troubles you?" George looked at her with concern as she leaned into him. She took a long sniff. Nope, she thought. Too bad. She liked George.
"It's nothing, George...just this damned smell...Never mind. Anyway, how was business this afternoon?"
George looked at her, puzzled, before starting to prod the Copa del Amor with his wand. "Er, fine. Busy as usual. Verity and I were a tad overwhelmed, but we handled it all right. I just wish Fred would get that Paris stuff done faster."
Ah yes, Hermione remembered. The twins had expanded their business throughout Great Britain, and they figured now was the time to move into continental Europe. So Fred was away seeking a location in magical Paris to start a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
"When did he say he'd be back?" Hermione asked, curious as to when George's other half would return, for nobody had infuriated her like Fred often did, with his casual flirtations and hilarious comments, for a few days now. "I asked him about it before he left, but he didn't give me a clear answer."
"In the next couple of days, I suspect. Anyway, thanks for doing all this so quickly, 'Mione." George waved his hand at the potion. "You know we normally would have asked our witches and wizards at the Warehouse to brew our potions, but since this particular one is so dangerous, we had no choice but to assign the task to the most brilliant, most talented witch-"
"Save it, George. I've heard it all before," Hermione said with a smile.
George grinned. "Alright, alright. Oh, by the way, mum told me to remind you that dinner's at the Burrow tonight, in an hour. Don't be late like last time-" George gave Hermione a pointed look, "-Or she'll kick our arses." He smiled a toothy smile at her before he waltzed into the front of the store to close the shop.
Suddenly giddy over the prospect of visiting her second family for the first time in two weeks, and a bit drunk off the Juice's fumes, Hermione rammed the lid on to the cauldron a little too hard. She exited through the back of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and apparated back to her small, but practical, flat in Muggle London. Once home, she pulled off her magenta work robes, which had "Hermione Granger" stitched into them in gold. The love potion's scents still lingered on the robes, and while Hermione changed into a comfortable cardigan and jeans, her mind swirled with ideas as to what the smell was. It wasn't George, but could it be another Weasley? Yes, it might be one of the Weasley brothers. She couldn't put her finger on whom, but while she flooed to the Burrow, she determined to figure it out, for Hermione Granger, the most brilliant witch of her class, was not one to sit and let a mystery alone.
When she arrived at her destination, she was bombarded by the usual sights and scents the Burrow offered. She had barely stepped out of the fire place, her mouth just starting to water, when she was engulfed in a tight hug.
"Hermione!" Ginny Weasley squealed into her ear.
"Ginny!" she exclaimed when they broke apart. "Merlin, you're back!"
Ginny, her brown eyes gleaming with pleasure, grinned at her best friend. "I know! I arrived an hour ago from Glasgow."
"And your last game? How was it?" Hermione inquired.
"The Badgers nearly beat us, but I caught the snitch. Seven games in a row! Dean was so proud."
"And what's that?" Hermione held the golden medal that hung around Ginny's neck closer to her face for observation.
"My 'Most Valuable Player' medal, of course!" Ginny beamed.
Hermione offered her congratulations and high-fived the red head before turning to face the rest of the Burrow's inhabitants and guests.
There in the cozy, and cramped, living room sat a majority of the people Hermione loved most in the world. Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Fleur waved at her from the couch, Fleur balancing Victoire on her lap. Remus and Tonks, who were sitting on a love seat with little Teddy, his hair a royal purple, in between them, grinned and greeted her. Ron, slouched over the kitchen counter holding a bottle of butterbeer in his hands, gave Hermione a big hug despite his morose expression.
"Bad day?" Hermione asked.
"Lavender broke up with me," Ron answered, elongating his face with exaggerated sorrow. "Again."
Hermione grimaced. "Oooh…well, have you considered looking elsewhere?"
"Life, that sodding bastard, won't let me," Ron replied.
Shaking her head, Hermione leaned in to hug her best friend again before turning to Charlie who was sitting beside his younger brother.
"Hermione."
"Charlie."
"How are you?"
"Marvelous. Back from Romania, I see. How are the dragons?"
"Scary as usual." Charlie smiled before hugging her. Hermione took this chance to sniff him inconspicuously. Nope, not Charlie.
"The twins treating you alright?" Charlie asked.
"Surprisingly, yes."
"If they give you much trouble, let me know." Charlie winked at her. Hermione scoffed. The twins were sometimes a handful, but they weren't anything Hermione couldn't handle.
"Thanks for your concern, Charlie, but I don't need it," Hermione said, crossing her arms.
"Don't be too sure about that, 'Mione. You never know what we've got up our sleeves," George called from the kitchen. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Where's Harry?" she asked Ron, but it was Charlie who answered.
"He's busy tonight. I saw him at the Ministry earlier. He said there was some Auror business to sort out with Shacklebolt."
"Ah...right." Hermione smiled, remembering Harry telling her last week that Shacklebolt was promoting him to assistant-Head Auror, but before this could happen, confirmation hearings had to be held to judge Harry's character, competence, and potential. Harry had fretted over the prospect of sitting in front of the Wizengamot, but Hermione was certain Harry would get the position without having to break a sweat.
The Burrow's inhabitants and their guests chatted a bit before dinner was served, and once everybody was seated at the dining table, chaos as usual reigned. Glasses clinked, cutlery clanked, chunks of bread flew, and peas were smeared everywhere; still, Hermione loved every moment of it. Noticeably absent from the action was Fred, the usual instigator of all the trouble, but George, accompanied by Ron and Teddy, was doing just fine. What Hermione loved most about these gatherings, however, were the interesting anecdotes shared amongst those sitting at the table.
"Last weekend we captured the last English Death Eater, in Sussex! I nearly ruined the whole thing when I tripped on the shag rug, but we pulled it off. Good fun, eh Remus?"
"Yes, it was quite a sight to behold," Remus said dryly.
"Who? Me or the Death Eater cowering behind the antique vase?"
"Both."
"...Mum, you'll never guess what happened last night."
"Victoire started reading! She just took ze book out of my hands and read. She eez getting very smart! Just like her papa!"
"Oh lovely, dears! Be sure to have her read to me before you leave!"
"...So I grabbed him by the collar, and this was not an easy feat, mind you, 'cuz this bloke was absolutely massive, and then I pulled him right up close and socked him in the nose!"
"Wow, Ron. You punched someone. Congratulations. You win at life. No doubt Fortune is smiling upon you, about to shower you in galleons and happy juice."
"George, this was serious business! This guy was a beater! A beater! Huge-ass arms and, I swear, a chest as large as Hagrid's. Yet I, just a lanky keeper, managed to hit him square in the face!"
"Really Ron! Just in the face? I've had a row with Julian Punkard before, and believe me, it was not his face I hit."
"Do tell me where you hit him, sis."
"You sure you want to know, George?"
"Of course, dear sister. Please divulge the dirty details!"
"Alright. I hit him square in the bludgers."
"'Bludgers'? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that term..."
"You know, his male parts. His nuts. His balls-"
"Ginevra Weasley! What are you talking about?"
"Just giving a lesson on human anatomy, mum."
Disregarding most of her dining table manners, Hermione snorted and laughed at the funny stories everyone shared, and related her own tales about working with the Weasleys, the most interesting of them being the ones concerning the love triangle between George, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet.
"...Just as Fred and I were about to close the shop, Alicia stormed in and demanded I tell her where George was. So I said, 'He's in the flat, taking a shower.' And just as she was about to run up the stairs, there was George, bewildered, his hair dripping, with an equally wet Angelina right behind him!"
"No!"
"Merlin's pants! What happened?"
"Fred and I looked at each other, and we tried to run before everything blew up, but not before we saw the look on George's face..." The Weasley siblings and Hermione burst into laughter.
"I'll bet it was priceless."
"I'd pay to have seen it!"
"George, how could you?"
"Hermione! It's not bloody funny! We had a huge fight after that! And it still hurts to use the bathroom."
Everybody laughed even harder at George's suffering, as George's ears grew redder and redder. Poor George, Hermione thought. She knew he wasn't dealing with the love triangle well, since George, ever the sensitive one, was afraid to deny either one of the witches for fear of breaking their hearts. And shockingly, Alicia hadn't run from him after learning of his hook-up with Angelina. It only made her work harder to win him over. So now George was pretty much stuck in between a rock and a hard place.
Just like a Muggle soap opera, she thought, a wry smile on her face. Love makes people do strange things.
The next morning, Hermione entered the back room of WWW to bottle the love potion she had spent the past week brewing. She made sure to tone the enticing scents down so she wouldn't be distracted. She worked with caution, taking care in measuring out the proper amounts of the pink potion to be placed in small, heart shaped bottles because she knew the Weasleys expected nothing but perfection from the brainy witch. Halfway through bottling the fourth potion, a flustered George Weasley walked into the room, levitating a cauldron of bubbling clear potion, being accosted by a lovesick Alicia Spinnet.
"Alicia, I know you're upset, it's just, rem-"
"George, it's alright! I'm not mad at you! Just go out with me on Friday, okay?"
George looked pleadingly at Hermione, but Hermione merely shrugged from where she stood. She was as confused as he was. Alicia normally was very calm and collected, yet here she was, begging George to go on a date with her.
"Um, well, maybe we should talk about this after work..." He attempted to levitate his cauldron onto the table space near Hermione, but then Alicia grabbed the front of his bright robes, crumpling the silk material, and the clear potion sloshed out of its cauldron and into the pink love potion seated in front of Hermione.
A huge wave of irritation swept over Hermione; she had been laboring over the potion for seven days, and the ingredients were rare, too. Now she had to start over if the Weasleys were to put out any more of the popular, but difficult to brew, Copa del Amor.
Her frown turned into a smirk though, as she watched Alicia pull George into a passionate kiss. Hermione had always been a sucker for a good romance, and this tryst between George and Alicia belonged right in a Lacey and Amoria love story. Alicia, a few seconds later, abruptly broke off the kiss with him and ran out of the room, leaving a very bewildered George behind.
"Sorry about that," George said, his face blushing redder than his hair.
Hermione just shook her head. "People are really strange, aren't they?"
"I can't deny it." George looked at the love potion, which had turned from pale pink to rose red. "Oh, Merlin. I ruined the potion, didn't I?"
"Probably. What were you levitating anyway?"
"A fate potion. If somebody feels as though his life is on the wrong track, he merely has to drink a tiny bit of the fate potion, and he'd be back on the path his life is supposed to lead."
"That sounds complex. Did you find the recipe in the book I brought back from Egypt?"
"Yeah. We had been brewing it for months."
"Well, what do you reckon the blend of the two would do?"
"Fate and love potions aren't too different, at least not in terms of composition." George walked next to Hermione and peered into the cauldron.
"Maybe the purposes of both potions will combine to create a new potion with a combined purpose," Hermione speculated.
"What do mean?"
"Well, perhaps a drinker would be set on his right path for love."
"In that case, I wouldn't mind taking a sip. I'd really like to get this whole Alicia and Angelina deal sorted out."
"We should probably make sure this is safe to consume before drinking it."
"Good idea."
Hermione performed a few standard spells on the concoction, but was still uncertain. And she didn't want anybody digesting anything she wasn't completely assured was safe. So Hermione flooed Luna Lovegood who, being a naturalist, had an extensive knowledge about potions' ingredients' properties.
Luna came over quickly, dressed in orange robes that had little stars sewn into the hems, a look reminiscent of Dumbledore's. Her blond hair was dripping wet, and the streams of water that rolled onto her robes created light blue streaks on the fabric.
"Hello, Hermione. Hello, George."
"Hey, Luna. Nice robes." George stared wide-eyed at her unique apparel.
"Yes, they're quite nice, aren't they? Daddy charmed them for me." Luna fingered her collar absentmindedly. "You said you had a potion's dilemma, Hermione?"
"Yeah, we do." She indicated the red potion in the cauldron and explained what had happened and what she and George thought of it. Luna took out her wand and performed several complex wand movements over it.
"Thanks for coming over so soon, Luna. I know you must be busy," Hermione said as she watched Luna cast her spells.
"I have a flexible schedule," Luna said simply.
A brief while later, Luna announced the potion was safe to consume. "The chemical properties are meshing quite nicely, and there are no traces of toxicity, as far as I can tell. I would be a bit cautious about the papyrus leaves mixed with the peppermint, because together they're known to cause confusion, but otherwise it's drinkable. Then again, the concentration of wrackspurts is shockingly heavy in the room, and you may be as confused by them as the herb mixture-"
Hermione heard a soft tapping at the window and was relieved to have an excuse not to listen to Luna's ramblings. She opened the lattice-window to let in the twins' handsome barn owl. She detached the envelope from its outstretched legs. It was a letter from Fred that read:
Dearest brother George and darling Hermione,
I know you two have been missing my charismatic presence and thoroughly enjoyable company these past few days, so I'll be returning from Paris this afternoon via the International Floo network to mend your hearts, which have, of course, been shattered into a million plus one pieces due to my absence. I also purchased you both a few gifts I thought you would enjoy, so I expect, upon my arrival home, loads of hugs and kisses – but only from Hermione.
I wish I were kidding about the kissing thing, Hermione, but I've honestly been dying to engage in a good snogging session with you for a while now.
Please don't kill me when I get back,
Fred
Shaking her head at the ridiculous but entertaining letter, Hermione turned her attention back to George, who had already scooped up a vial of the fate-love potion.
"Cheers."
He tilted the vial into his open mouth. Hermione and Luna watched for any sudden reactions, but they could see no physical changes. George, however, was wearing a look of great confusion on his face.
"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked worriedly. She glanced at Luna who didn't look too concerned. "Do you have a clear sense of who you're supposed to be with, George?"
"Er, no, not really. If anything, I feel even more confused than before!"
"What's the potion taste like?" Luna asked.
"Like blueberries and chocolate."
"Oh, my favorite waffle toppings."
Hermione raised her eyebrows at Luna's off-handed comment, and George shrugged his shoulders before starting to scoop the rest of the red potion into empty vials.
"You can't possibly be thinking of selling those, George. The potion's untested," Hermione said, eying George's actions warily.
"I'm not. We just ought to store this for the time being. I sure as hell am not leaving it lying around." A few drops of the potion fell onto the table, and it evaporated upon making contact. Luna looked briefly at the spot, before telling them she needed to leave.
"Thank you for your help, Luna," Hermione said, looking appreciatively at her eccentric friend.
"It was no problem. Anytime you need any help, just let me know," Luna replied. She gave the two WWW workers a small wave before stepping into the fireplace and flooing away.
George had reached the bottom of the cauldron. He filled a vial with potion, but before corking the vial, he turned to Hermione, a charming smile on his face.
"Drink from my cup, fair maiden," he insisted.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
"I don't see any reason why not."
"Well, if you can look past the fact that this potion is untested and potentially fatal-"
"Why so pessimistic, Hermione? You yourself checked it. Luna said it was safe. But it's your choice, of course, so if you'd prefer not to drink it, I'd understand."
Hermione bit her lip. If this potion were what she and George thought it to be, a potion that would set her on the right track in love, she wouldn't mind taking it. After all, her love life at the present was pitifully nonexistent, and her romantic liaisons of the past were no better. This potion would really stir up drama in my life, she considered, but then again, has there ever been a moment in my life not loaded with drama, if not mine than somebody else's? No, craziness had always been a part of her world, and adding just a bit more would not make that much of a difference in her life. Probably.
"Be a Gryffindor, 'Mione!" George said in a mocking tone.
Rolling her eyes at the redhead, she remembered that mysterious smell, a smell now wafting freely from the uncorked vial in George's hand. Hermione figured that if she could not determine what that scent was, maybe Fate could help out. With that last thought, she took the vial from George and drank the potion.
Reviews appreciated!
