A/N: I once again own nothing, and the plot belongs to remuslives. Thanks! :D
Hermione nervously tapped her fingers against her kneecap, striving to stay calm, to stay in her seat, to not under any circumstances go and hex the boy standing right outside the window. The boy who had taken no notice of her. The boy that currently had a giddy Ravenclaw grasping his arm as though it was her lifeline. That very boy that was supposed to be her date to Hogsmead.
"Steady," she told herself. "Think of the trouble you would get into if you did something drastic to him. Think how much detention you could get, or worse, expelled!"
Those thoughts were enough to make her calm down, but the moment she was calm, she found herself beginning to hurt. Now that her anger had slid away, it was replaced by a deep, tearing hurt that rose to the surface and threatened to choke her. She had been stood up. She'd been stood up on her first date. The boy that she had agreed to go with had chosen someone prettier, and had left her sitting in the Three Broomsticks for over an hour.
She sighed heavily, and stood, straightening her shoulders and placing one foot in front of the other as she stepped out into Hogsmead, ignoring Madam Rosmerta's rather sympathetic looks. As she stepped into the busy streets, Hermione closed her eyes and tried not to cry. She was a part of the Golden Trio. She could take a little rejection, right?
She trudged her way up the main street that led to Honeydukes, wondering if Harry or Ron might be around. She needed someone to talk to. And yet, neither might be a very good confidant, since neither had really liked the boy to begin with. She shook her head and kept walking. It was only when she turned the corner that she saw him, sitting on a bench, his arms resting on his knees and his eyes closed.
George Weasley.
"George?" she said softly as she stepped close to him.
George lifted his head, startled for a moment. When he saw her, Hermione thought that she detected a flash of disappointment, quickly followed by…something she couldn't identify. "Hey, Hermione," he said, attempting to be cheerful, but his voice cracked halfway through her name.
Concerned as to why one of the most jovial people she knew seemed so sad, Hermione slid onto the bench next to him and asked, "What's wrong?"
George made no move to scoot over and Hermione found her hip pressed right up next to his, not that she was complaining. "Nothing," he lied.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Seriously, George, there must be something wrong if you don't even have the energy to lie convincingly."
Her teasing brought a small smile to his face and he apologized. "Sorry, I guess I'm feeling pretty lonely today."
"Where's Fred?" Hermione asked, instinctively looking around for George's twin.
George sighed. "He's out with Angelina. They have a date today." He paused, pressing his lips together for a moment before adding, "I had a date today too."
Hermione gazed at him carefully, beginning to put the pieces together. "What happened?" she asked.
George didn't answer for a long time, and Hermione almost thought that he hadn't heard her, but then he laughed almost bitterly and asked, "Would you believe that I got stood up?"
Hermione, though she had been expecting an answer similar to this, was still surprised. "You?" she asked. Who in their right mind would stand up George Weasley? And furthermore, why had she just thought that?
George nodded. "Yup. Never showed up. I waited for her for two hours."
Hermione took a deep breath and boldly put her hand on George's broad shoulder, trying to exude a comforting vibe that she desperately wanted to feel herself. George seemed surprised, but he leaned slightly into her hand, so Hermione left it there as she said, "Perhaps we could keep each other company. I got stood up too." When George stared at her in shock, she thought that he didn't want to spend the day with her. "Unless you want to spend it with someone else," she said, hastily removing her hand from his shoulder. "I know I'm not ideal company-"
"That's not it at all!" George insisted. "I'd love to spend the day with you. I just can't believe that someone would stand you up! They must be wrong in the head." His frown assured her that he was confused, and Hermione took slight comfort in his words, even though she was pretty sure that he was just trying to cheer her up.
"That's sweet of you-" she began, but he cut her off and jumped up from the bench.
"Of course it is!" he said with a grin, holding out his hand for her to take. "That's just the kind of guy I am. Come on. We'll be each other's date and we'll have a great day. Our dates are the ones that lost out, not us."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh as his exuberant nature and Weasley smirk appeared once again. She took his hand, trying not to focus on how good it felt to have him hold her hand, and said, "Sounds marvelous. Where are we going?"
George winked. "To find something to eat that's just as sweet as you."
"George, you really didn't have to do that," Hermione told him for the third time as she held the bag of Sugar Quills close to her chest so that they wouldn't break against the pushing and crowding of all the people in Honeydukes.
George turned then, once they were outside, and tugged Hermione close to him. As he looked down at her, Hermione felt a strange feeling of butterflies erupting in her stomach and her heart gave a flutter. "I know," he said softly, his eyes searching hers, "but I wanted to."
Hermione wondered if he "wanted to" because she was his backup date, his Plan B so to speak. He must have seem something in her eyes that alluded to that because he brought his fingers up and hooked them under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "I really wanted to," he insisted softly. "Not because of this date we're on, but because you're really special, Hermione, and you deserve so much more than a bag of Sugar Quills."
His kindness touched her, and Hermione nodded, indicating that she understood. "Thank you, but I assure you, the Sugar Quills are plenty." Feeling much bolder now that George had inadvertently said that he liked spending time with her, she transferred the bag of sweets to one hand and with her other took the hand that had been holding her chin up. With her fingers interlaced with his, Hermione asked, "Where next?"
"This is a horrible idea!" Hermione cried, digging her feet into the dirt even as George tried to pull her forward.
"Oh come on, Hermione!" George cried, still gripping her hand firmly. "It's not like it's really haunted, or anything. You should know that."
Hermione frowned stubbornly, still resisting his incessant tugging. "I do know that," she insisted. "I've been in there before. I just don't really feel like going in there again." However, his excited attitude was wearing her down, and she could only imagine his furthered excitement when she showed him the secret passageway. Pranks would probably abound galore from that!
Hermione stopped digging her feet in, causing George to accidentally pull her straight into his body. He caught her, his arms moving around her waist, and stared down at her for a long moment before his lips parted and he lowered his head to hers.
"Ah, well, if it isn't the Mudblood and the Weasel. Shopping for your new dream home?" a voice crowed behind them, and Hermione saw pure anger flash in those blue eyes that were so close to hers. She and George both turned to glare at Draco Malfoy, who was standing there smugly. "My, my, Mudblood," he tutted. "You lose one Weasel to a Gryffindor and you go after his older brother? Does King Weasel know that you brought his brother out to the dream home too?"
George didn't know that these taunts were similar to the ones two years ago, but he ignored Crabbe and Goyle's laughter and launched himself at Malfoy. He struck the younger boy hard, somehow landing a punch even as their bodies were both driven into the ground. They rolled in the dirt, fists flying, Malfoy screaming, and Crabbe and Goyle looking on, unsure whether to jump in or not.
The fight didn't last long, and it ended with George kneeling over an unconscious Malfoy, watching the blood stream from Draco's nose with a sense of completion. He stood shakily, and that was when Hermione saw the terrible cuts on his hand and cheek. He turned to Crabbe and Goyle and said gravelly, "Get him back to Hogwarts, and when he wakes up, remind him for me that 'Mudblood' is a word I never want to hear again out of his mouth or he just might find himself Avada'd."
The moment George stepped away from Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle jumped toward him and dragged him away. George watched them until they disappeared from sight and then turned back to Hermione, wiping the blood from his lip with a bloody hand, which ended up just smearing the blood all around. "You okay?" he asked, wondering if the fight had scared her.
Hermione nodded confidently. "But you're not," she said pointedly, looking at his cuts on his face and hand. "Come on." Even though he protested, she took his bloody hand in hers and began to lead him away from the Shrieking Shack. He looked back only once, and Hermione noticed, promising, "We'll come another time. I know of a secret passageway I think you might like."
His eyes lit up, whether because of the promise of the passageway or the idea that she would come with him again, and allowed her to support him as he stepped tiredly forward. "Wicked. Where are we going?" he asked, acutely aware of the fact that Hermione had wrapped her arm around his waist to support him better.
"The Hog's Head is closest," Hermione told him. "We need to get you cleaned up."
The fact that he didn't argue told Hermione that he was in more pain than he was letting on. He let her lead him to the Hog's Head, and didn't even balk when she sat him down in a chair before heading off to find Alberforth Dumbledore and ask for some water. "Ow," he muttered to himself when he rested his hand on the hard tabletop, trying to keep the open wounds away from the dust that had accumulated on the table.
"Here we are," Hermione said, and George looked up to find her carrying a small pitcher of water and a clean rag. Where she'd gotten the rag, he wasn't sure, because everything in the Hog's Head was dirty, but he didn't complain. Perhaps she had performed a cleaning charm on it first.
She sat down in the chair next to him and scooted closer so that their knees touched. "Face first," she told him, dipping the rag into the water and leaning forward so that she could reach his face. He bent down slightly to make her job easier, and his eyes closed as she gently dabbed the cloth all around his mouth and cheeks. If every swipe hadn't stung so, he would have enjoyed being in such a position with her.
"There," she breathed, and George opened his eyes to find her face very close to his. The feelings that had surfaced at the Shrieking Shack came back, and he leaned forward slightly, but Hermione pulled away. "Now your hand."
Dutifully, he held out his right hand and let her take it in her smaller one. He noticed that she had washed off the blood from her own hand, and she soon had the blood off his own. Very carefully, she ran the cloth over his knuckles, wincing each time he hissed. "Sorry," she would whisper, and he would tell her every time that it wasn't her fault.
"Done," she said, sitting back and vanishing both the pitcher and the rag.
"Thank you," George said, opening and closing his hand to test his knuckles.
"When we get back, Madam Pomfrey can probably heal those right up," Hermione told him, blushing as she noticed him watching her carefully. Thankfully, she realized that they were the only ones in the Hog's Head at the moment.
"Mmhmm," he said.
Hermione turned her gaze away from his and looked down at her lap. "It's almost time to go back to Hogwarts," she told him softly, striving for some kind of conversation to break the silence.
George put his good hand on her knee, and the contact made Hermione look up at him. "I'm sorry that your day wasn't a good as you had hoped it to be," he said regretfully, "but I really enjoyed spending time with you, and I was wondering if you'd like to come to the next Hogsmead trip with me." He shrugged. "You know, to begin with?"
Hermione's eyes widened, and her heart began that little fluttering thing it seemed to do so often in George's presence. "Really?" she asked, not believing her ears.
He grinned. "Really," he whispered as he leaned towards her. "And then, we'll go and find something else that's just as sweet as you."
And with that, he sealed their lips together in a soft kiss, not demanding, but most certainly not lacking in passion. His lips caressed hers in a way that she could not have imagined, and Hermione now knew why so many people enjoyed kissing. It was absolutely brilliant!
Though the pub itself was filthy, with the floor covered in layers of dirt, and the windows smeared with so much grime that little light shone through, Hermione would not have traded this moment for anything. As George pulled away and smiled widely at her, Hermione knew that she would never have to worry about being stood up again.
A/N: Hope I did it justice. Please review, and I hope you liked it!! :)