Hermione Granger and the Glob of Green Goop
"Scourgify," Hermione said in a confident tone. A vast, verdant splotch now adorned her favorite set of robes along with smatterings of ash and a tarry, green sludge. Much to Hermione's dismay, however, not even a dash of the robe was cleansed by her spell.
"Scourgify!" she shouted, then again a third time, but it was fruitless. "SCOURGIFY! TERGEO! EVANESCO!" …nothing.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," she fumed. It wasn't as though Ron had meant to stumble into her as he attempted to levitate some crates for his brothers' shop down Diagon Alley, but he'd always been a bit clumsy with domestic wandwork.
"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron sputtered. "Fred's going to kill me for ruining the Hogsmeade shipments."
Hermione glared in such a way that Ron recoiled at once.
"The shipments!? That's what you're worried about? You're not at all concerned with this corrosive…goop all over our robes?"
Ron shrugged. "Eh, these are just work robes. I reckon Fred and George will have this one sorted out in no time."
Hermione threw her hands out in indignation. "Meanwhile, I'm on my way to an extremely important interview with the Ministry of Magic, and my best robes are now ruined thanks to your brothers' ridiculous tricks!"
Ron didn't quite know what to say, and before he could reply Hermione stomped toward Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.
"So typical," she huffed, and typical it was – at least when it came to the Weasley twins. "Those boys will be sorry when I'm through with them!"
Hermione entered the shop, prepared to give the Weasley twins what for, when she collided with none other than George Weasley himself.
George peered up in brief surprise before his face broke out in a wide, smarmy grin. "Blimey, Granger. I know I'm irresistible, but there are better ways to get a bloke's attention."
"George, please, I have an urgent appointment with the Ministry. I bumped into one of your crates, and – loathe as I am to admit it – I need your help to remove this horrible mess from my robes."
"The magnificent, oh-so-brilliant Hermione Granger needs help with magic?" His eyes danced with glee.
"Oh, please, if I had time I would certainly be able to work out whatever complex charm you've used, but I simply haven't the time. And you of all people know I'm hardly magnificent."
"That's not what Fred says," George countered with a sly wink.
"Wh—what?" Hermione was completely derailed. "George, I'm serious. Are you able to help me or not?"
George sighed melodramatically, "Sorry to disappoint, darling, but that lovely concoction is solely the work of my dear twin. You'll have to ask him for help."
She rolled her eyes, "Fine, where's Fred?"
"Ah, but you just missed him—" George said in mock disappointment. "—But what's a bit of stained clothes anyhow? I'm sure no one will notice…"
Hermione squeaked with genuine panic and apparated away without saying goodbye. Knowing she didn't have time to change, she resolved to ignore the stain as best as she could and hope that it wouldn't hinder her chances at a promotion.
"Hermione Granger." The echo of a woman's dull monotone echoed from an open door, and Hermione rose, taking a deep breath.
"Confidence, Hermione. This is it. You have what it takes."
Hermione took one last deep breath and followed the witch into the room where she came face to face with the Head of the Department of Security, Victillian Klein.
"Miss Granger, do be seated." The surprisingly jolly wizard motioned toward the chairs.
In spite of the horrid aberration on Hermione's robes she felt the interview went well, and that afternoon Mister Klein confirmed this when he invited her back to the Ministry.
"Miss Granger, the Department of Security is pleased to have you in their ranks. I must say, I was slightly hesitant to take the word of our contractor seriously. Accomplished as you are, your young age was quite a concern, but our contractor assured me most earnestly that 'there was no witch as brilliant or magnificent as Hermione Granger.'"
The cogs in Hermione's brain spun as the familiar words echoed in her ears.
"Mister Klein, pardon my asking, but – who is your contractor?"
"Oh, forgive me, Miss Granger. I thought with your connections to the family, and he and his brother's line of defence products that you would have known. Fred Weasley is our primary defence contractor."
Hermione was floored. "Did he really say that about me?"
At that moment none other than Fred Weasley entered the office with a rather large crate in hand.
"As promised, Victillian, the latest prototype from our Defence Line—" Suddenly he noticed the witch's presence. "—Ah, Hermione, landed the job, just as I predicted?"
She bit down a smile. "Yes, apparently someone gave me quite the glowing recommendation."
Fred set down the crate and approached Hermione. Her heart beat quickened as he neared, pounding when he was merely inches away.
"Hermione?" He stared at her unflinchingly.
"Y-yes?" Still in shock that he esteemed her so highly, her heart nearly burst wondering what else he could possibly have to say.
Eying her up and down, a wide grin spread across his face. "You might want to get someone to take care of those spots on your robes. You look bloody ridiculous."
And with a laugh, he vanished from the room before Hermione could utter a single word.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," she finally huffed, but the hint of a smile teased on the edges of her lips. Hermione knew she'd deal with Fred Weasley later.
Fin.
First Twin Exchange Challenge ever! It…could have been worse. Lol. Thanks for reading!
Prompt: stained clothes
Pairing: Hermione/Fred
Quote: "Did he really say that about me?"
